A List of My Possessions

-Books. Six Boxes. Mostly Comic

-Dvds. 3 Boxes. Mostly Television shows.

-Clothes. Far too many for a heterosexual male.

-Video games. At least a box. Xbox 360. Wii and [broken] SNES console.

-One Dell Laptop computer. Does not hold a charge.

-Three Shelves. A Dresser.

-One ancient RCA television.

-One White '98 Grand Am.

- Hats. Various styles. No Ball caps.

-Numerous Sketchbooks.

-The Management.

2010: A Brief Retrospective

I guess 2010 is pretty much over at this point. It's weird to think about, but it is.

I'm looking at where my life is right now, and it's sort of scary, truth be told. I'm honestly not sure what I'm doing. But I'm trying to do something and I do think that's what's important. I'm start of sorting to realize that I might not ever be on the cusp of great things. I'm getting older. I'm a man, now, and I think the best thing to do is just try to lead a life I enjoy doing things I enjoy and being around people I enjoy.

Which isn't to say I can stop. I'm still young, as weird as it is to thing about being an adult, there's still so many things I haven't had the opportunity to do yet. But then, I guess this entry isn't supposed to be about the future, is it? I think that'll be another one.

This is about 2010. Which I have to say has been the most eventful year of my life by a wide margin. As it draws to a close, I can see that every aspect of my life is and will be different than when it began, and because no one reads this, I can be as sappy as I want to when I think about it.

So here it is:

To all the friends I've made.

To all the enemies too.

To all the people I knew.

That aren't here anymore.

To all the little victories.

To all the massive failures.

For better or worse,

I think I'll always remember

2010 as the year

That everything changed.

Or, maybe...

...Hopefully...

Became the way it is.

Cheers.

-The Management.

And Good Will Toward Men

Because someone had to do it, I was stuck working the grave-yard shift in the Gas N' Go on the corner of West and Third on Christmas Eve this year. My boss had appealed to me desperately. He didn't offer holiday pay. He didn't offer over-time. But he did threaten my job, which was encouraging to say the least.

So it went, on December 25th at 2:30 AM, rather than being asleep at home, visions of Sugar Plums dancing in my head, I was standing behind a cash register slinging cigarettes and hard liquor to what I have to assume were the less than reputable inhabitants of Mansville, Alabama.

Mansville is not the sort of place that I belong. I think the fact that someone could waltz into an area, establish a town named, "Mansville" and have no one raise an eye-brow at that for two-hundred years sums up the general population of this quaint little community better than I ever could given the limits of the English language, so I'll just allow that to speak for itself. That said, deservedly or otherwise, I do have quite a high opinion of myself when compared to the other residents of the town. I mean, I'm no Shakespeare, I'm no Einstein, but I'll say this: The fact that I'm working in a gas station at the age of twenty five is a god-damned crime.

The bell on the door jingled, rousing me from thoughts. I looked up from the counter I had been absent-mindedly staring at to see one of our regulars, A Mr. Evan Schaal walking into the store. As usual I kept an eye on him as he sauntered around the store, glancing up at me every two to three minutes as he jammed various products into his pocket. Like I give a fuck. Finally he approached the counter and addressed me, "Pack 'uh Marlboros," he grunted as he slid a case of Keystone onto the counter.

I turned to get the man's smokes and heard a quiet little voice pipe up from beneath the counter, "Daddy, will you buy me this?" I spun back around and faced the counter. I peered over it to see a golden haired little girl standing beneath the counter. I hadn't even noticed her. Where had she been? I hadn't even noticed her. She was holding one of the little wooden dolls from our frankly lack-luster toy-shelf up towards her father.

"Gloria, if I told ya once, I told ya thousand times: We can't afford shit like that right now. Necessities only." Something about this outraged me. Evan Schaal robbed the store blind every time he entered. For the most part, he knew I didn't care (or at least cared more about my physical health than I did about the financial security of the Gas N' Go) and yet he still didn't have the time to steal a dinky little convenience doll store for his daughter.

I turned and set the smokes down on the counter, "You know, Evan, it's Christmas and stuff, so if you just want take the doll, I could cover it," I said to him, doing my best impression of someone who didn't utterly despise him.

Evan Schaal stopped and blinked at me rapidly in a stupefied fashion. What I assumed was that he had been taken aback by my self-less attitude and willingness to help out my fellow man. I actually had begun to feel pretty self-righteous by the time he finally opened his mouth. "Th' fuck did you say to me?"

I stammered, clearly confused, "I-Er-I was just offering to help out Evan. I just thought, your daughter really seemed to like that--"

"Zip it pencil neck." Evan barked at me, "I don't need your fuckin' charity. My family," He beat on his chest, "Don't need your fuckin' charity. An' where I come from? That's a damn insult."

"Listen man, I didn't mean anythi--" was all I got out before I woke up on the floor. Head throbbing. Someone was flecking water on my face. I groaned, "What happened..."

I opened my eyes and was staring up at my manager, "Looks like you got robbed again, Mitch. Who was it this time?"

I struggled to my feet, "Evan Schaal."

"Again, man, Mitch, if this keeps happening, I'm going to have to let you go."

"I know, Dave. Can I just... Can I just get the hell out of here? It's Christmas. I think my girlfriend got me an ice-pack." Dave sort of laughed. He really didn't want to, but I got him with that remark. I rubbed my shiner as I walked out the door. It was a two-mile walk to the apartment. It was snowing.

Merry Fucking Christmas.

Merry Christmas, Nobody.

Though the odds of it are slim, if anyone is reading this, I'd just like to wish you a very Merry Christmas. Thanks for reading. Hope I've amused you at some point. And I hope you get everything you wanted.

Because, I love you, nobody. And I'll always love you.

Keep it real.

-The Management.

Twisted Metal

Last night I crashed my car. Not content with just ruining my own singular mode of transportation, I also went ahead and ruined someone else's in the process.

Eye-Witness Account

The experience was harrowing to say the least. A car crash isn't really the sort of thing you plan for (I think that's called vehicular man-slaughter) so needless to say, I was kind of caught off-guard. The thing about driving is that you wouldn't really be going 45+ miles per hour were it not for the steel container carrying you. The other thing about that is, when that metal hazard stops going suddenly, you do not. For those of you unfamiliar with the basic laws of physics, what this means is, if I hadn't been wearing my seatbelt I might have flown on the windshield face-first. Instead, what I did was lurch forward violently until my head connected with the steering wheel, at which point my head bounced and (apparently not content with a single helping of blunt-force trauma) went back for another.

I've often found (and honestly, this is probably just adrenaline) that after what should have been a very debilitating occurrence (on prior example was the time I accidentally jumped my friends mini-bike. I ended up doing some sort of superman thing mid-air, which was probably pretty impressive until the bike flew out from underneath me and I landed flat on my stomach) I can often hop right back to my feet. This instance was no exception. I hit the other car and leapt out of my own in what I can only describe as a heroic fashion, pausing to inspect the damage on the way. This is what I found:

Along with the obvious cosmetic damage to the front of the car, there were glass and metal shards littering the general area and an unknown fluid leaking out onto the ground. I couldn't see it, but the inside of the smashed machine sounded like someone had turned on a faucet, so I had to assume the radiator had burst or something. As for me, I managed to get out with little more than a bump on my forehead and severely damaged pride. The police were really cool about everything; I'd stupidly left my wallet at home that evening and had to run it to the police station that later in the night, and some numbness in my left side warranted a trip to the emergency room but everything worked out all right all things considered.

Sincerest apologies to the man's car that I smashed up. You're free to hate me. I would if I were you.

-The Management

A Dialogue With a Blog: Blog's Response

Oh... Salacious. It's you.

You've got a lot of nerve, coming here at this hour, asking me to take you back. It's been quite a while, and I was just starting to get over you. The neglect you put me through.

It was... Unbearable.

You want to write on me again? I don't know about that, Salacious. Maybe, we can hang out sometime get some coffee or something, but until I know what's what... I just don't know if I'm ready for that.

Though... I must confess, I do still think about you sometimes.... Late at night... When there's no one to write on me, I remember you. You weren't the best, but you did fine, and, to be honest, I found your flustered, floundering style sort of endearing... The reason I had such a hard time being ignored by you is because... I really miss you!

Oh, who am I kidding! I can't make you jump through these stupid hoops!

Write on me, Salacious! Write one me now!

-The Blog

A Dialogue With a Blog

Hey, Blog.

How have you been?

Me? Oh, I've been good. Can't complain. Thanks for asking.

I know it's weird, coming to you now out of the blue like this after all this time, but, the truth is... Well, I've been thinking of the good times. Do you remember, blog? The fun we used to have? I'd come to you late, in the dead of night and I'd whisper something like, "Sphincter". Sometimes I'd write a review of something that was too old to be legitimately reviewed, or I'd just generally muse about life. Sometimes I'd just try to be funny and fail spectacularly, but you didn't care. You let me write on you anyway.

And it was good. No, it was great.

I guess, blog, what I'm saying, is that... I want to try again. I want to give us another go. I want to muse on you again! I want to write outdated reviews on you again! I want to make short cop-out posts and use pictures as a substitute for actual jokes!

If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, blog, I promise you'll never regret it.

Yours Truly

-S. Crumb.

I hate it...

When my boxers don't have button flies and my dick falls out of them.

-The Management

Scott Pilgrim VS. The Meaningless Meandering Review

Michael Cera and Edgar Wright prove that love really is a battlefield with their new over-the-top Action/Romance/Comedy based on Bryan Lee O'Malley's hit graphic novels, but is this adaptation a knock-out or does this flick need a 1-up?

Scott Pilgrim is 23 years old, Canadian, unemployed, living with and mooching off his best friend, stringing along an innocent little teenager and generally being a procrastinating douche about beginning his adult life.

Close to home.

At any rate, at some point during his idyllic faux-relationship with the naive little Knives Chau he manages to stumble across his (literal) dream girl, manages to stumble further into a first date, and continues to stumble into her bed, and eventually a relationship. But there's one problem, Ramona has some baggage in the form of Seven Evil Ex-Boyfriends (exes!) who all want to beat his ass. Like, hard.

But Scott's no slouch! He dispatches the first with relative ease manages to get the dirty deets out of Ramona. Now knowing what he's in for, he agrees to fight for Ramona's love and, in the process, maybe even get his shit together!

Now, if the premise for this film sounds a little out there, there's a good explanation for why: Like many films these days, it's based on a comic book, which, from my experience, often have more insane plots than most other forms of media. I mean, as much as I love comic books, let's be honest, they're kind of dumb.

-Not Pictured: The Works of Mark Millar-

So, yes, this Pilgrim's voyage is based on a comic book, but this FILM is a love-letter to video games and nerdom and all of the awesome things I endorse with the very fiber of my being. The original books were FILLED with little nods and what-have-yous to video games, but the fact that this is a film (and thus has sound and non-static visuals) just manages to take it to an absurd new level. There is always, always, ALWAYS something going on. From little touches to very iconic music playing during a dream sequence, to the villains bursting into coins upon defeat, and an announcer screaming KO, this film is a total special effects overload from beginning to end, and because of this it is a BLAST to watch. The one problem with the film's aesthetic, in fact, is that it might be just a little TOO hyper-kinetic for some, it has the potential to be exhausting for those not knowing what they're in for.

Fights are well choreographed and always interesting. Fans doubting Michael Cera's capacity to be an action star will not be disappointed. Though his performance still retains some of his typical Cera flare (or lack thereof, I suppose) he manages to pull off a convincing Scott and actually looks pretty damn cool in some scenes. The rest of the cast does a great job as well, Winstead's very sexy as Ramona (though she plays her a little flatter than I'd read her), Wallace Wells is as hilarious and gay as he should be, and the members of Scott's band Sex Bob-omb, though under-utilized, are a lot of fun, too.

Now, the books are used as a starting point for the plot, but around the time Scott fights the third Ex, things end up being changing around quite a bit. It starts off pretty small, things take place in a different order, or things are happen in a different setting, but actually culminates in an ending that is almost entirely different from that of the books. Now, typically, the comic-book nerd in me would be enraged by the prospect of a film being unfaithful to it's source material, but this movie is such a rush, so fun to watch, and so exciting to look at, I barely batted an eye. That should really tell you something.

Do yourself a favor. See this movie.

VAGUE NUMERICAL SCORE FOR LAZY READERS: 5/5

Brevity is the Soul of Wit

Sphincter.

SMURFS. MOVIE.

Somebody has got some serious explaining to do.

Alright, alright, really I'm not angry. Somebody played a practical joke on some gullible movie studio executive, "Yeah, what the people really want is a Smurfs Movie," he probably said, and the other members of the board pissed themselves laughing, while their boss thought, "You know what, yeah."

Nobody's in trouble, I can't make that clear enough. I'm just going to turn off the lights for a second and I want the guilty party to make this movie stop existing. No one will know it was you, so just do it quickly and we can all get on with our lives.

*Click*

*Click*

Dammit, you guys.

Alice in Wonderland Review

In a firm indicator that the adage, "you can't teach an old dog new tricks," is in fact a universal truth, Tim Burton sets out to once again make the wholesome mildly creepier in his sequel to Lewis Carrol's classic tale of Alice's rather curious adventures.

Woo.

I, eh... I just don't know what to make of this one.

Alright, let's go.

Alice in Wonderland tells the story of the titular Alice's 2nd journey to the eponymous Wonderland and borrows elements from both the original Alice's Adventures in Wonderland as well as it's literary sequel Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There.

The basic plot of the film deals with Alice running away from her own engagement party upon finding that it was her engagement party and falling once again into the rabbit hole. Upon being found by the denizens of Underland (evidently "Wonderland" was a mispronunciation by young Alice (wat)) she is told that she may be the Alice, the one who visited Underland previously and is prophesied (here we go) to save Underland from the tyranny of the Red Queen by recovering the Vorpal Sword and defeating the Jabberwocky on what will be known as the Frabjous Day.

Anyway, Alice sets off reluctantly (and at various sizes) to find the vorpal sword, still not entirely convinced that she's not dreaming, meeting up with various Underland residents (many of whom have been arbitrarily given names, the Caterpillar, for example, is Abselom, now) along the way rediscovering her memories of her past experiences and finding that she has the strength to save the day.

So, yeah, it goes without saying, Burton has taken a few liberties with the Lewis Carrol novels, but that's okay, right? The books were far from epic and consisted of little more than Alice wondering from bizarre situation to bizarre situation and muttering, "how curious". On top of that, making Alice's story grimdark is far from a new concept, so really this isn't a huge problem in and of it self. Plenty of media empires were reinvigorated by taking something silly and campy and making it fuckawesome.

Alas, this is where Wonderland finds it's largest problem. Simply put: this is a film that doesn't know what it wants to be. Despite how appropriate it may be for the film to have multiple personalities, it doesn't really make the viewing experience more pleasurable. The climatic final battle scene, for example cuts back and forth between Alice's tremendous struggle against the Jabberwocky and the rest of the Underland residents own struggle against the Queen's card soldiers which feels like a battle out of Shrek.

And then there's this.

Keep in mind that immediate preceding this scene Alice had (with no prior sword training) single-handedly beheaded what was, for all intents and purposes a fire-breathing dragon, saved Underland from the Red Queen's evil and had a heart to heart with the Yoda-esque caterpillar about her past. It was quite intense... Or at least, it wanted to be.

On top of the issues with tone whiplash, the film suffers from poor pacing and a lack of characterization. Notably, the Caterpillar, who Alice seems to think of as a mentor-figure in her quest only actually appears once and has two very brief conversations with her. Despite this, she panics before the final confrontation and calls out to him for help. Character motivation is confusing and unclear. The Hatter is taken by the Red Queen's cards, and Alice feels it necessary to save him, but why? At this point, she is still quite convinced she is dreaming and that her actions in Underland have no real consequences. Still, she sets out (about an inch tall at this point for reasons I can't be bothered to remember) to save this person who she'd only just met, and who didn't do much for her outside if insult her.

Despite these complaints, the film has some truly impressive moments. Some of the set pieces like the giant chessboard in the final battle and the Red Queen's castle look great. As well as the costume design and stuff. It's just a shame, because if the movie had just been a bit more focused (on either the comedy or the clash of forces) it might've have been quite impressive, as it stands, all it did was drive me mad.

VAGUE NUMERICAL SCORE FOR LAZY READERS: 2/5

This thing.

Saw this thing on 4chan's /co/ board. Threw one together for myself.

TOTALLY LEGITIMATE.

What's New Scooby-Doo?

Cartoon Network has decided to (once again) drag the Mystery Inc. gang out of homeostasis and though initially I was a little confused as to why they would even bother, I took a look at the first episode of Scooby-Doo: Mystery Inc and I must say, I was quite pleasantly surprised.

The first thing that must be acknowledged if this article is to continue (and by the looks of things, it is) is that the original Scooby-Doo series was lacking. To say the least. On top of the show itself being absurdly boring to look at and even worse in motion, the gang are the most one-dimensional group of characters I can be bothered to think of (unless we compare them to the other characters in the Hanna-Barbera stock). Seriously, think of two things about each member of the gang that make them unique characters.

Go ahead.

I'll wait.

So, here's what you probably came up with right off the bat:

Velma: She has glasses and is also smart.

Shaggy/Scooby: They are easily frightened and frequently hungry.

Fred: NOTHING

Daphne: NOTHING

These answers are all correct, unfortunately, you did forget to answer in the form of a question.

That's right, two members of the Mystery Inc. gang have no discernible character attributes, two of them are the same character and one of Velma's character traits is her glasses.

In a desperate bid to make these characters characters, we've been met recently with What's New Scooby-Doo which retained essentially the same formula as the classic Where Are you? shows but in a modern setting and as of 2006, we've received Shaggy and Scooby-Doo Get a Clue.

It's not discernible from this intro, but in this show, Shaggy inherited a fourtune, whereupon he and Scooby became secret agents with a Bond-esque Arch-Nemesis name Dr. Phibes. Yes, really. Look it up.

Go ahead.

I'll wait.

Anyway, these shows failed to add anything new to the character's character and in one case (I'll let you guess which one) managed to be the worst thing that has ever happened.

Now we're looking at Mystery Inc. which manages to seriously blow my expectations for what a Scooby-Doo show can actually be. Here we've got Scooby, Shaggy and the rest of the gang living in a coastal town renowned for the sheer volume of unexplained super-natural activity that occurs within. Needless to say, the gang does what they do, solving mysteries and ruining everyone else's fun (and the town's profitable business as a tourist trap) in the process, such to the point that they apparently get arrested with some degree of frequency for cracking these craaaazy capers.

The characters depicted here are basically what we've come to expect, but the fact that the show viciously lampshades the one-dimensional characters of past incarnations (Fred is so obsessed with building traps and catching ghosts, that he is blind to the very... Eager Daphne's less than subtle advances) and the promise of an over-arching story linking every episode together have me legitimately interested in a Scooby-Doo show. Something I never thought would happen.

It doesn't hurt that Scooby's playing a smaller role, either. Christ, he's annoying.

Several Convincing Arguments to Support the Claim that Wife Swap is the Greatest Television Program Ever Conceived

There are a lot of television shows, but one stands high above the rest, asserting it's dominance above all others like a great king. All other shows pale in comparison in every possible way. From it's ability to make us laugh, to it's astounding tendency make us deny our connections to the human race, there is but one television series as far as we here at Meaningless Meandering are concerned, and that one is....



Yes, that's right, Wife Swap. For those unfamiliar with the premise of the show, please, allow us to explain: Two families from startlingly different backgrounds are brought together to change wives for two weeks. For the first week, the new wives must live by the rules of the new family, in the following week the wives get to change the rules to their liking, and the new family must abide by them. Generally, this means that a well-to-do liberal, but obscenely strict wife who would rather lock her children in a cellar than let them interact with the opposite sex trades places with a wife from a poor, conservative family that believes that woman should remain in the kitchen and who's children already have children of their own. At age 12. The two families follow the rules for two weeks and one of two possible outcomes is eventually reached, 1) they learn their lesson, and make changes to their lives accordingly, or 2) they learn nothing from the experience and openly insult the other family on national television.

Of course, this is just generally how it plays out. Sometimes it gets mixed up a bit. Here's a few of my favorite Special Cases

-a family of clowns

-a family of wizards

-a family of alien hunters

-a family that refuses to cook any of it's food

-a husband that would rather wake board and jet ski than spend time with his kids. So he does.

Please note that, in the episode with the clowns, one of the rules was that they go to a talent agency where they are told they are failures as clowns. Top scientists have been working 'round the clock here at the Meaningless Meandering Institute of Higher Knowledge (MMHK) to confirm the theory that, yes, this was in fact the only thing funny thing that has ever happened involving a clown.

Our favorite part of the show is how it (no doubt through COPIOUS editing) shows us both sides of a debate as ignorant, argumentative and stupid. Truthfully, there has never been a likable participant of the show. From the carnies who teach their children "physics" by taking them on the tilt-a-whirl rather than putting them in school, hyper-religious zealots who's daughters, at 19, pray for a husband rather than date, to the man who outright tells his step-daughter he doesn't love her on national television, it's truly and simply a parade of horrible and stupid individuals, and we hear at the Institute will be god-damned if that doesn't make for darn good television.

One must wonder, with the way EVERY. SINGLE. PARTICIPANT. Is portrayed so negatively how new ones are so constantly found, but I submit to you, dear reader, that we as America are not at a loss for stupid people who want to get on television. Not by a long shot. In fact, one could easily argue that the majority of America consists of stupid people who would embarrass themselves to be on television.

That's right, you heard (read?) correctly. If Wife Swap is nothing but stupid, horrible people, and American is nothing but stupid, horrible people then I submit to you, dear reader, that Wife Swap IS America.

If A=B and B=C, then once can assume that A=C.

Wife Swap the single most patriotic anything that has ever existed.

As our final argument for the show, we've decided to let it speak for itself.

Bacon is Good For Me - watch more funny videos

[WHOLLY LEGITIMATE POST]

This is a place holder for an entry I intend to write about my humorous attempts to eat Jell-O with a fork. This serves more as a reminder to myself, as it's 3:30 in the morning and I've come up with several good sentences about the hazards of eating Jell-O with a fork and I don't want to forget them during sleep.

So this is a reminder to me, the author: Don't forget those funny things you thought up about the Jell-O.

And this is a reminder to you, the reader: Don't forget to come back, tomorrow or thereabouts, to read my insightful witticisms about eating Jell-O with a fork.

Return to your lives.

EDIT:

Amusing anecdote rescheduled for some other time because of Biology home work and Usopp totally left the crew.

ADDITIONAL EDIT CONFIRMING MY FAILURE TO DELIVER WHAT I PROMISED:

This is no longer a placeholder. In fact, it is quite the opposite, as you can see by the change in title, this is now a WHOLLY LEGITIMATE POST. It turns out those things I was going to say about Jell-O and the many utillities of the humble fork weren't actually funny, and I didn't have patience to sit around making them thus.

This is now a WHOLLY LEGITIMATE POST in that it is now a deconstruction of my own truly impressive procrastination skills and and inability do anything I intend to!

Until next time, Meander-ers!

[TITLE]

I'm in a bad mood.

What I was originally going to do was to write something meaningful and introspective. A deep look into my feelings and insecurities. The sort of thing that would make me feel like a bitch later, and ultimately get deleted in little over hour, pulled from the tubes in a moment of shame, hopefully before anyone could see it.

I know this scenario pretty well, because, hell, I've done it before. In fact, as recently as December, I'd kept a personal Journal on my computer where I bitched and moaned about various things. If you were to read it now, you'd be under the impression nothing good had ever happened to me once throughout the course of my life. It's embarrassing and I'm probably going to delete it after I finish writing this entry. Here's an example, one of the entries from the journal:

Entry 19

Tuesday, September 29^th , 2009

I don’t even feel like writing anymore.

I’m fucking horrible at math and I’m going to disappoint my parents…

-1:28 AM

That was last semester of school. Back then, I was convinced I was going to flunk my first ever college math course, but do you know what happened? I didn't. I passed it and moved onto the next part of the course, which I will also not fail. That's right. That's damn right.

Bottom line is this: Right now I feel insecure. Unlikeable. Boring. Stupid. Ugly. Fat. Not to mention every other stupid bad awful thing a person can feel about themselves. These things happen. These feelings come in waves. What's good to know is, that in all likely-hood, tomorrow I won't feel this way.

And what's more? I won't have a reason to then, either.

-The Management

We Are Very Busy People

This song pretty well sums up our generation. Whether this is depressing or inspiring is sort of left up to you.

It's depressing, just in case you needed help.

Lyrics are as follows. Go on about your day, my busy people.

We'll end up numb from playing video games
and we'll get sick of having sex.
And we'll get fat from eating candy;
as we drink ourselves to death.
We'll stay up late
mixing mix tapes,
photoshopping pictures of ourselves;
as we masterbate to these pixelated images
of strangers fucking themselves.

We are very busy people,
We are very busy people.

There's crusty socks
and stacks of pizza boxes
leading trails straight to the bed.
And when we're done sleeping
we'll stay busy dreaming of the things
that we do not have yet.
Well there's a long list of chores and shit to do
before we play, oh let's just piss away the day.
Crank call the cops down at the station,
just for friendly conversation,
requesting songs they never play;
Let's hear the one that goes like:

We are very busy people,
We are very busy people;
But we've always got time for new friends.
So come on over and knock on our door,
it's open what you waiting for?
We may be sprawled out on the floor,
but we still make lovely company.
Pull up a chair, I'll pour some tea,
We'll shoot the shit, 'bout everything,
till you get sick of politics,
and flip on the TV screen,
we stare at the TV screen.
That Donnie Darko DVD has been playing for a week,
and we know every single word.
I got an iPod like a pirate ship,
I'll sail the sea
with fifty thousand songs I never heard-
And all the best of them go
La la la la la la...
la la la la la la...

No More Heroes 2 Review

Hopeless anime nerd/violent sociopath (two personality types that, let's be honest here folks, are virtually inseparable) Travis Touchdown is back for more blood-shed in the sequel to the 2008 sleeper hit No More Heroes and the result is a satisfying (sometimes redundant) if short-lived thrill.

I was a huge fan of the original No More Heroes, as were a few other people I know. There was a lot of appeal to the game. It was charming, stylish, and though the gameplay was solid, the over-world and sub-games caused it to suffer a bit. To be truthful, loving the No More Heroes series also has another secret bonus. You know what it's like when you love a band that none of your friends, really, actually know about? Yeah? That vague feeling of superiority when you tell them about this great, awesome thing and they just say, "What?" NMH is the video-game equivalent of that.

Failing in Japan for having been developed with a Western audience in mind, the original came state-side and tanked here as well. It's a testament to the developers adoration of the characters and world that the game ever got a sequel at all. Developer Suda51 is known for pushing style over substance (evident in his first(?) game Killer 7) and sometimes that doesn't make up for the lacking areas in game play but I was more than willing to over-look the originals flaws (a crummy over world and some boring mini-games) for it's fantastic sense of style and over the top beam-katana boss-fights.

NMH2 takes place three years after the original ends. At the end of NMH the United Assassin's Association [UAA] was revealed to have beeen a scam by Sylvia to trick violent, sexually frustrated, down on their luck losers (Travis) into killing a bunch of strangers in exchange for a fake ranking and a sense of accomplishment, netting her a hefty sum of cash in the process. Travis has "retired" from assassination, and returns to Santa Destroy three years later to find the UAA has exploded since his departure into a legitimate organization, and Sylvia is again pulling the strings. Throw in some dead friends and another promise of sex and Travis is off to fight his way the top again starting at Rank 51.

One of the most notable things about the game is the presentation. There are some very extreme shadows that have turned some of the people I know off to the game, but over-all it looks a great deal better than the original. The world of No More Heroes is one of a fanciful sort of grit. If Quentin Tarantion directed a vide-game it would be like this. The over the top violent-almost-to-the-point-of-parody flavor that exists within the game is one of the hooking features, along with the writing which walks the line between cheesy and bad-ass so perfectly one wonders how it doesn't fall to either side.

The first thing to note about the game itself is that it's quite deceptive about it's content. The back of the case boasts that, "Starting from Rank 51," Players will, "fight their way through even more epic boss battles," The implication here clearly being that there are 50 boss battles in the game. NMH2 however, argues semantics in the leagues of your most anal high school English teacher, however, with a number of ways for Travis to jump up literally tens of ranks in single confrontations. One early example involves a Football player assassin named Charlie who's cheerleader groupies swarm together to form a giant robot... Yeah... Travis, using his own giant robot, blows up Charlie only to find out that the Cheerleaders were also on the list and he has just jumped 26 ranks.

Suda 51: Problem, video-gamers?

It gets so bad late in the game that Travis actually starts to complain about other people taking his kills.

Gameplay is much the same as the original. Travis will fight his way through a series of enemies (finishing each with either a wagglan beam-katana finisher, or a wrestling move) finally coming to a confrontation with the person a rank above what he currently is, pithy conversation, fight, rinse, repeat. One welcome addition is that of a few more basic enemies (of which the game has about three) and, thankfully, new environments to explore. It seemed like 90% of the first game's missions took place in an abandoned warehouse, but the environments on display in Desperate Struggle are much more varied and help to keep the game fresh. Still, some may find repetition setting in, especially in some of the of the later levels. One can only cut a man in half at the torso so many times before it becomes a nuisance. The best levels are the ones that are short and sweet, and thankfully, many are.

Two of the biggest complaints about the original NMH were the boring sandbox-hub and the mundane mini-games needed to earn cash for ranking fights. This time around the sandbox apsects have been removed entirely, replaced with a tidy map selection system and the hum-drum mini-games have been replaced by 8-bit mock-ups of classic games, like Super Hang-On and a hybrid Pac-Man/Dig-Dug thing. Because it no longer costs to enter ranking fights, you can play these games at your leisure and spend the money earned on new weapons, new clothes, or character upgrades.

No More Heroes: Desperate Struggle is a game that tackles every problem it predecessor had and improves minutely on the good aspects. The characters, artistic direction and writing are all top-notch, but the game suffers from a bit repetition in it's late levels and, for a game essentially all about boss battles, the final one is pretty weak. Still, it's insanely stylish, and, simply put is a fun ride from beginning to end, and really, that's all one can ask from a game.

VAGUE NUMERICAL SCORE FOR LAZY READERS: 4.5/5

Air Buddies: Why Do They Exist?

There are a number of things in life I'm aware I'll never fully understand. A few quick examples include: Truck Balls, wearing camouflage in suburban areas, the enduring popularity of Jeff Dunham and women (am I right, men?).

Highest on this list (at least at the time of this writing) is the Air Buddies franchise.

Just in case you don't remember, Air BUD was the heartwarming tale (or should I say tail?) of a boy and his dog taking the rock to the net. Occasionally from downtown.

The basic plot revolved around a boy named Josh who was too much of a wuss to try out for his school's basketball team and instead adopts a dog named Buddy. Actually it might not have been "instead", necessarily, I don't really remember. At any rate, the dog, as it turns out, is not only an exceptionally skilled basketball player, but better by a great deal than Josh. This roller coaster ride of a plot comes to a head when Buddy's original owner, an alcoholic birthday clown, show up and tries to take Buddy back after having realized how valuable he is. This results in a stand off where Mr. Antagonist and Josh stand on either side of Buddy calling at him to come to them. Buddy chooses Josh (obviously) and if memory serves, something wacky probably happens to Sir Bad Guy, like getting a sticky substance like fudge or syrup dropped on him or something.

Through several direct to video and DVD sequels with names like Air Bud: Golden Receiver Buddy would crush the spirits of little league teams everywhere by defeating them in sports where having thumbs served a significant advantage and truly cementing how little a fuck the Refs of kids sports actually give.

Finally after several years of imitators and increasingly ludicrous premises for the films themselves, someone decided to step in and do something about this mess of a franchise (Unfortunately for fans of Michael Phelps, his planned cameo in Air Bud: Water Logged Dog never materialized due to the script of the movie being rejected). Finally. It was over. Finally, we could sleep.

Or could we.

Just when the universe collectively thought it was safe to go back into the water, so to speak, executives, apparently still as keen on the idea of a dog playing sports as I was when I was seven decided that one dog that could play a shit-load of sports wasn't RAD enough. Instead they opted for a shit-load of dogs that could play one sport each.

Also, they could talk.

No reasonable explanation is ever given for this.

Saddled with his precious mistakes, Buddy became a stoic, soft-spoken stay at home dad (partially because he is a dog, and cannot talk, and would just as soon eat his puppies as nurture them) while the Buddies (who, I'm told do all have names or something) go increasingly insane adventures, each one making the fact that they all play sports a little less significant.

In the third movie, Space Buddies, the puppies went to space.

What.

D'aw.

Also, what.

Travis! You are the LOSER!

No More Heroes 2: Desperate Struggle comes out next Tuesday.

Along with Tatsunoko Vs. Capcom.

Basically, it's going to be a pretty big day for the Wii.

Watch out for a review of both in the following week or so, non-existent readers!

My Brush With Death

Today my computer got a virus.

I wish there was some way to put a positive spin on it, but there isn't. It got a virus, and it was horrifying. I was trying to download the new Mountain Goats album and a little bit of carelessness got me saddled with a Trojan, a Worm, and a plain, old-fashioned Virus. I put my torrent into the queue a was very promptly met with the vocalization, "NEW VIRUS DETECTED". I brushed it off initially as so many of us do, but my screen started flickering, making weird crackling noises and letting me know that I could be sued because my PC was being used as a spam-bot, I leapt into action.

As I said, the first thing my protection software did was alert me to the presence of the Virus', (which was helpful indeed, though I doubt I'd have been able to ignore them for long). Unfortunately when I tried to get the software to do something about it it told me I had to purchase the full version of program before I could.

What.

Consider, if you will, that someone has told you outright that they will protect you, and you, secure in this knowledge get yourself into admittedly precarious situations because of the added assurance. Now consider someone wants to punch you in the face repeatedly, but when you go to your body-guard, you are told that, while they are in fact capable of dealing the brutes attacking you, you will need to give them forty dollars before they lift a finger to help. Finally, consider that you are getting the ever-loving shit kicked out of you, and that, during the course of said shit-kicking your "body-guard" intermittently chimes in with, "Hey, there are some dudes punching you," and, "Forty dollars and I'll save your shit." Now you've got a pretty good idea of my situation.

Finally I resolved to just format my hard-drive. It was a annoying, stupid and I lost everything in the process. I don't want to be a douche here, but the after-math could be soundly compared to the Earthquakes in Haiti: Nothing was spared, there is nothing to do but pull myself up by my boot-straps and rebuild. And rebuild I shall. Feel free to send money and food.

It was a learning experience to be certain, and the most important thing I learned is to not use torrents. I should just get my friends to download stuff for me.

-The Management

My Greatest Achievement

The first time I saw this trailer I presented the following as a potential tag-line:

Mo' Mummy Mo' Problem.

It is, to this day, the funniest thing I've ever said. I am still proud of it.

Ancient Chinese Secret, Huh?

Author's Note: The following post contains "interactive elements". Please open a 2nd tab containing THIS and press the red button when directed for full effect.

The Chinese were pretty awesome at crafting fables. Seriously. They rocked. It's impressive how they're lessons are still pretty applicable today.

For example:

The Tigers and the Strawberries

A Meaningless Meandering Special Presentation

Paraphrased by the Meaningless Meandering Staff

Once long ago there was a man who was approached by a ferocious tiger. Being that he was of sound mind and body, he of course did exactly people are always told not to do when confronted by a man-eating animal: Run away. The tiger, being the sleek killing machine it is, followed it's instincts and gave chase. The pair tore across the plains, the man's will to live apparently more inspiring than the tigers desire to get some dinner. Hey. Somebody should tell that tiger to lay off the fast food. (press button)

The man ran as fast as he could until he came to a steep cliff. The tiger was approaching quickly and with little other option, the man jumped from the ledge. Falling and assuming he'd finally given the tiger the slip, he saw as he fell that the tigers had tricked him. There was one tiger above him, the one that had chased him, and below him, sat another tiger waiting to eat him whole. "Resorting to trickery and out-numbering me?" Thought, the man as he fell, "Finally I see the tiger's true stripes!" (press button) The man swiftly grabbed onto a branch and held on with all his might. He knew that his grip wouldn't hold on forever, and that eventually, he'd fall down to the tiger below and be eaten. Sitting and pondering his inevitable death, the man took notice of a strawberry hanging from one of the branches. He reached out for the strawberry and plucked it from the branch.

It was the sweetest strawberry he'd ever eaten.

It's a story about a man with horribly mis-placed priorities.

I mean, come on! This man shouldn't stop thinking about these tigers to enjoy a strawberry. Foolish man. This story is about how people today need to pay more attention to their surroundings. Think of how many car accidents would be avoided if we told this story in Driver's Ed.

Feel free to draw your own conclusions about this tale. I've never claimed to be infallible.