I hate your birthday

Gaming Update

Thu, 23 Feb 2012 10:50:42 -0500

Last night my boyfriend and I completed a co-operative run through the Fear 3 video game, which is available on the Xbox 360 and Playstation 3. We happen to be Sony people, so we enjoyed the family slaughter tale Fear 3 had, the co-op focused on two brothers, fighting alongside one another till the bitter end, where the story’s culmination alters to accommodate the higher scoring player. Very interesting, fun twist. I’d recommend highly for some couch bound fun.

The countdown for Mass Effect 3 continues…

Photo

Mon, 20 Feb 2012 19:07:58 -0500

“Command-Center” 02/20/2012. This will change into...

Mon, 20 Feb 2012 15:54:46 -0500

“Command-Center” 02/20/2012.

This will change into a more Apple-fied alignment shortly…hopefully.

Photo

Sun, 12 Feb 2012 22:56:00 -0500

momentofellis: “Give me information.” Transmetropolitan. Artist...

Sat, 11 Feb 2012 22:28:43 -0500

momentofellis:

“Give me information.” Transmetropolitan. Artist Darick Robertson.

New comic up on the Killer Spoons site. Go laugh at a...

Thu, 09 Feb 2012 08:33:12 -0500

New comic up on the Killer Spoons site. Go laugh at a child’s horror like a good person.

nevver: Anthony Burrill

Mon, 06 Feb 2012 06:20:22 -0500

nevver:

Anthony Burrill

Call of Duty Semi-Elite

Thu, 02 Feb 2012 10:16:04 -0500

Being the consumerist fuck I am, I purchased the “Elite” software subscription to the recent Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare 3 this past November. The $50.00 add on was suppose to include exclusive content such as: dashboard themes, avatars, automatic access to new DLC maps, modes, and etc., for the game. Considering an average map pack costs roughly ten bucks per, Elite’s main selling point is that the program pays for itself over the course of a year’s content. However, now into February, not only has their been zero added content for the game (for PS3*) and in fact the service was nonworking for the greater majority of its time since release.

*Most disgustingly, those who purchased the Elite subscription through the PS3 do not have access to the first two maps that were released two weeks ago on the service, which as of now are only available to Xbox 360 players, due to a exclusivity deal Activision has with Microsoft. Of course, the details of this exclusivity, and it’s effect on Elite members were not made known till well after the service went up for sale, falsely catching PS3 players for their well earned money with promises of superior access. It’s revolting that Activision would pull such a maneuver on its large base of PS3 customers, without any apology. Sure their are other great offenses in the world, as well as the world of gaming (the continuing of the Final Fantasy series being one) however, it doesn’t excuse a really shitty showing of customer appreciation on the part of Activision. I feel like a proper sucker, and I’ve sworn myself to hold off on purchasing any other Activision produced games for quite some time. I don’t expect my lacking funds to hurt the “biggest selling franchise” going, but should other PS3 gamers/suckers follow suit, it may just effect that almighty bottom line Activision holds above all else

wordley: “The Element of Style” with Helvetica.

Sat, 28 Jan 2012 21:48:16 -0500

wordley:

“The Element of Style” with Helvetica.

Photo

Sun, 22 Jan 2012 08:19:20 -0500

I could watch this film once a day.

Sat, 21 Jan 2012 13:41:52 -0500

I could watch this film once a day.

nevver: Taxi Driver

Thu, 12 Jan 2012 14:07:04 -0500

nevver:

Taxi Driver

Snow Angel

Thu, 12 Jan 2012 12:51:00 -0500

My fingers stink of the half pack of cigarettes I’ve smoked as I wait. Sniffing them holds off the urge to light another…for a while. I’m tired of waiting, but theres no point in leaving yet. Haven’t gotten what I wanted yet. Maybe I should quit smoking I think, the thought seems to rear its fresh lunged face only when I’m reaching for another. Quick lighter work banishes that far away. It’s easy, so long as you don’t dwell. I try not to dwell.

Finally, things happen. I watch my man leave through the side entrance of his apartment building, turning sideways to squeeze along the piled garbage. Winter hit hard last week, and the sanitation department are still playing catch up. Its cold, and everything stinks. My man lumbers up the block, heading north toward 6th. I leave the car and take off on foot. With a weather-justified hat and face mask, I’m not afraid of being recognized. I trail him another two blocks west on 6th, and duck off under a storefront a block away while he enters a rundown bodega with the only shoveled walk-way on the block. I fill my pockets with my hands, and curse myself for leaving the smokes in the car. Lady luck makes it a short wait.

He walks out of the market carrying a bag in each hand. Looks like soda and snacks; it’s always less rewarding when they don’t take care of themselves. I cut across the street and circle back around the block, moving two blocks south at a decent pace, catching him again after I turn around back north, just in time to see him disappear behind the garbage mountain again. I make the quick decision to just get it over with, hurrying a bit in the snow to cut down the distance between us. When I make it to the entrance way of the building’s alley, a quick scan shows he’s still fidgeting with the door. He seems to be having trouble selecting and turning the proper key against the bite of wind and weight of his bags. Too stubborn to take a moment to set them down, he struggles. About two seconds after he notices there’s someone else walking behind him, I collapse his skull with open palm shove to the back of his neck, slamming him into the door. After he drops, I dot my “i” and slice his throat. Willpower being low, I snatch one of his soda bottles as I turn back toward the street. Five minutes later I’m “doing the dew” and contemplating Chinese or Thai for dinner while the car warms up. Maybe Mexican.

- Peter J. McCann
January, 2012.

nevver: Terror

Wed, 11 Jan 2012 07:26:30 -0500

nevver:

Terror

Tips for Skyrim Second-Timers

Sun, 08 Jan 2012 12:48:07 -0500

Get your Speech skill, and numerous level-ups in 1 million “X” button presses or less.

Go to Riften
Walk into the Black-Briar Meadery (around 3pm).
Talk to Ungrien (behind the counter)
Select: “Tell me about Maven Black-Briar”
Press the “X” button a million fucking times.

Going through shit. Only semi-around. Still alive. See ya soon.

Fri, 06 Jan 2012 21:37:39 -0500

Going through shit. Only semi-around. Still alive. See ya soon.

weinventyou: TV

Thu, 05 Jan 2012 21:27:44 -0500

weinventyou:

TV

He’s not the Stan Marsh he wants to be…he’s...

Tue, 03 Jan 2012 18:24:01 -0500

He’s not the Stan Marsh he wants to be…he’s the Stan Marsh he needs to be.

Shweet.

Tue, 27 Dec 2011 03:40:39 -0500

Shweet.:

In case you wondered.

Urban Hunting

Sun, 25 Dec 2011 13:33:00 -0500

When I hear the “pop” I knew we were in trouble. Just suppose to be some old lady living off daily meals on wheels. Did he fuck this up? I bet he fucked this up. I’m just clear of the second landing when I hear the second “pop”, this one occupied by a senior citizen flying around the second floor stair case, twirl on her very dead heels and fall in a blue-haired tumble down the stairs to my feet. I wasn’t allowed to hold the gun, so I just stood in the stairwell looking down at the back of some geriatrics’ head, and only moved when I noticed the blood pool increasing toward my shoes. I performed a modest hop to the third step toward the second floor, and climbed three more before he stuck his head out of the apartment door.

“Hey man, everything’s cool.”

Sadly it wasn’t so painfully obvious he was a psychopath two hours ago when we were still sitting in McDonalds. I would have at least done better than a dollar menu dinner.

“What the fuck!?”

“Look, we got to hurry, the cops will be here any minute.”

“No fucking shit, you just shot an old woman twice in the chest!”

“Once. She just surprised me…”

“But I heard…oh shit! You hit?!”

“No, I missed the first time. Now hurry up, Marla is going to fucking kill me if she realizes we took her father’s gun.”

The dead old lady’s place was very much like a living old lady’s apartment. I suppose the transition didn’t do much. He was, though. I could hear him throwing her wooden drawers against the wall of the bedroom after dumping it’s contents on the floor. Five drawers in, I figured the old lady didn’t have anything. Her living room was tidy, but still felt messy, and the windows hadn’t been opened in a few months. The granny croaker also smoked, and everything had a yellowish tinge to it, the few knick-knacks on the table sticky to the touch from the film build up.

“What a waste of time, this lady doesn’t have anything worth a fuck. Hurry up, lets go!”

As the first siren carried through the apartment building, I was watching his legs kick toward the front door; he always put too much effort into running, I took a moment to snatch a pack of Marlboro’s from the coffee table.

We run for the first six blocks, then cut down another avenue and walk the rest of the way. We’ve been living in his father’s garage for two months. His father doesn’t know it. Drunk and denial is a strong mix. Later that night, my head is resting on his lap, and I’m watching his face for traces of his thoughts. I fish the pack of cigarettes out of my jeans pocket, and his eyes watch my hands as I extract and light two for us. He gives me his boyish smile as he takes one from my hand, and squeezes my chest where his other hand lays. His chest fills with smoke as he takes the first tote, and exhales as cool as James Dean. He’s out of his mind, but he’s mine.