Posted in 1 on July 29, 2008 by JAwesome

There’s a guy at my work that a lot of people don’t like. They don’t like him because he’s kind of an asshole, and “kind of” is an understatement: he’s a perennial offender. It’s not that he smells or steals lunches or is outright rude to people; no, his character traits are encompassed in a more precise classification. He is The One Upper.

“Man, my weekend sucked. My dog broke his leg while we went hiking up at the trails.”

“Oh yeah, well my dog chopped off all its legs when the sawhorse it was supporting snapped because my chainsaw hit a knot in the oak and it flew out of my hands and did a full 360 while my dog was back flipping to get out of the way. I was chopping the oak because the tree, the largest single oak in the region, was struck by an Advanced F5 in a freak storm that only occurred over my house. And my dog is an it because it was born a hermaphrodite and had all its genitals gnawed off when its mother was displeased with her spawn.”

The One Upper (or OU) always has a more extreme anecdote than the one you are telling. Nothing is ever complete without him putting in his two cents (or three cents if you put in two). You hooked up with Tina in accounting. He did the CEO. You lost $300 at Foxwoods. He lost the Oppenheimer Diamond in an unlicensed boxing match in the Filipino underground. How much shit is one person capable of doing?

I tell a lot of stories at my work because I like letting people know how awesome I am and I am bored, but none of them are untrue. I may embellish here and there (or fill in the places where I had too many spirits), but the vast majority of my tales are true. I did the math: 99.99999%. I get a laugh or some pity here and there and that’s all I want; but, without fail, King Papsmear (he was Prince Papsmear until his father was stuck with a poisoned lead ball by the KGB) always does me one better. Recently, I got to hear a tale of his camping excursion where a super cell rolled in and lightning hit two campsites down. I don’t doubt that there was lightning and I don’t doubt there were two other campsites, but the mingling of the two seems pretty unlikely. There was another epic where OU was out on his ATV and accidentally hit a ledge and dropped 60 feet and broke his leg. Okay. Not only was his leg broken but the bone was out in plain sight. Okay. Not only was his leg broken and the bone out in plain sight, but his friends came down to find him and were losing their shit while he sat back to calm them down and gave them directions on how to brace his leg and get him to the hospital. Fat chance. If I broke my leg and my bone was sticking out I would be shitting and pissing and screaming so piercingly neighbors the town over would think a geriatric Banshee’s Depends collapsed under the weight and every orifice was that loud.

This may sound like an ad for Axe Dry that was out some years ago as it should, it is eerily similar. I have met people that occasionally one up which is obnoxious enough, but this is out of their league. Is he trying to prove his dick’s bigger than mine? Good, you and half the world’s population including pygmies. My dick is so small that when standing naked, except for the blanket of body hair, it looks like a vagina, a big, gaping vagina. One up that.


Celebreality & the Downfall of Man

Posted in 1 on July 22, 2008 by JAwesome

Last night I was bored and decided to check out the ole boob tube. It was that span of time where I wasn’t tired enough to hit the hay but hadn’t had enough time to digest my Kid Cuisine before my YouPorn expedition. By some stroke of luck I landed on VH1 just in time to catch the latest reality show starring Brooke Hogan and I have to tell you that it was a bigger waste than trying to get your date drunk off of Bartles & Jaymes. Just because you were born the daughter of superstar Terry Gene “Hulk Hogan” Bollea you think you somehow deserve a sliver of the fame he has gained through years of WWF/WWE/WCW/”Mr. Nanny” acclaim? I was born too, way to go me. What a heap of shit. I stared vacuously as Brooke attempted appear genuine in her ridiculously huge new slut quarters with her equally retarded friends as they pawed like apes at the cardboard Hulkster cutout that he sent her as a housewarming gift because he “lost his best friend.” “There’s probably a camera in it!” Sure, because that would make a world of difference when there’s an entire film crew splashed about your apartment that is about as transparent as the stains on a hotel comforter under a blacklight. How arrogant would you have to be wondering if there is a shitty camera from the back of a Dick Tracy comic when your life is being filmed and broadcast on cable? Also, who would be Brooke Hogan’s best friend? Someone yearning for the cusp of limelight bad enough that she would be willing to cast her self-respect into the wind like a virgin in college to appear on a mindless load of whale ejaculate like this show – and I only watched this for a couple of minutes!

So you might say, “I just want to see how celebrities live.” Like us, they live like us, only with more bigger and better toys because they have money to swim in because they appear on TV or in movies or on the radio and make inordinate amounts of money, for who would actually think that people working in coal mines, hospitals, The Recorder or any other integral part of today’s society should procure a fraction of what people who work a little and play a lot make? On the oft occasion that celebrities have downtime they need only reach into their bottomless pockets to make a frivolous purchase and in doing so are filmed for your glee and are rewarded with more piles of money every time you tune in. In essence, they are getting paid to spend, but not in the sense that investing in stocks yields; they waste money on drinks and clothes and donkey punches (if only…) and make hefty profit from it. Sure, I brag about touching Vanilla Ice’s hand at a concert and haven’t washed it since, but he was one of the forefathers of modern day rap and deserves his “To the Extreme” residuals, not some stupid girl who feels entitled to a share of her father’s renown. Oh yeah, she also sings. Like spitting diarrhea.

So please sign my petition to ban this show and others like it from the air. Just kidding, the likelihood of me starting a petition for this is on par with me soberly castrating myself in the middle of a jelqing session with a Pog (not a slammer). But in all honesty, who really gives a crap about Brooke Hogan’s linebacker shoulders or Danny Bonaduce’s latest naked drug-fueled breakdown or how all of the Real World and Road Rules cast members compete to see who can take the title of MTV’s biggest douche (P.S. Jesse Camp already won)? If you do, I hate you.

Best -> Games – > Ever

Posted in Uncategorized on July 10, 2008 by JAwesome

I’ve seen a lot of “Top 10” lists: The Top 10 Vacation Spots, Top 10 Happy Ending Massage Parlors, 10 Top Ways to Lose a Guy in 10 Days and the Top 10 Ways to Fist Yourself; and about halfway through these lists I realize, “hey, this sucks!” and quit reading in hopes of turning the page and stumbling across the hidden picture puzzle.  These lists are comprised of all sorts of items beyond the fiscal reach of the average consumer of the article.  I doubt in my lifetime I’ll have the opportunity to float in the Dead Sea and ski the Alps and walk the tree canopies of the Amazon and run with the bulls and drive an Aston Martin Vanquish on the Autobahn AND instigate a gun battle between two rival gangs in the heart of Bed-Stuy.  It’s just not in the cards.

The only “Top 10” I’ve made it through and have given a damn about at the end is a list of video games.  Video games: man’s best friend.  Is a dog going to allow you to wield a rocket launcher while strolling through downtown Cityville with a hair trigger that flinches every time someone breaks wind including you?  No.  Video games are the universal equalizer in the sense that Johnny Football Hero and Billy Band Geek can each pick up a controller and stand on level ground.  And so, I present to you, in its entirety, the end-all be-all “Top 10 Best Video Games of All Time.”

10. Rock Band

I know what you’re thinking: “But dummy, Guitar Hero was out first, lol, rofl, jk, so it’s the better game!!!”  Why don’t we take a look at the peripherals of Guitar Hero – a guitar.

Rockband – a guitar, a drum set and a microphone.  Quantity aside, a simple comparison will show the true victor.  In Guitar Hero, the point of the game is to tap a bunch of buttons in a specified order as fast as possible with no regard to the song itself.  Rock Band takes that base and affords the player the option of four different instruments and highlights playability and experience over difficulty.  In other words, GH is just like a fingerbang in the backseat of a Geo Storm while RB is like going to a party and finding the drunkest girl with the lowest self-esteem and having access to the parents’ bedroom suite and a limitless supply of lambskin dong ponchos.

9. Streets of Rage II

Axel, Blaze, Max, Skate, Mr. X?  What could be more badass names?  Muscle, Lava, Explode, or Skoal?  The king of side-scrolling beat ’em ups features so much ass-pounding that it nearly ended up on the top rack of a gay smut shop – and with only three buttons!  If you’ve ever wondered what it sounds like swinging a loose pipe against the head of a star-chucking ninja or elbow dropping fire-spewing Billy & Benny McCrary then look no further.  Also, the game’s soundtrack is phenomenal as it features lifelike voices and guitar riffs so sick they are the antecedent of Angus Young’s wet dreams.

8. Duke Nukem 3D

“I’ll rip your head off and shit down your neck.”  Speaks volumes.

7. Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas

Want to launch an ATV off the side of a cliff to the tune of Neil Young?  Okay.  Care to incite a gang war from the comfort of a hovering jetpack?  Sure.  Interested in giving an HJ to Billy Bob at a truck stop because your wife’s role playing toys and life were lost in that convenient house fire and the life insurance check just arrived and your love life needs a little spice?

San Andreas lets you do it all.  A slew of story missions is complemented by a mouthful of side missions and an open world makes for an endless amount of fun and grabfanny.  I enjoy playing Maverick flying through the sky and dogfighting the freaking federali as much as I enjoy playing Goose and pulling the ejector cords, taking that plane nose first into Mother Earth and me concussion-first into the sea.  Need a hooker but not crabs?  San Andreas is for you.

6. River City Ranson (EX)

River City Ranson for NES was so nard-stompingly awesome in and of itself that it was revamped for the Game Boy Advance fifteen years later in a glorious display what’s good and right in this world.  Fifteen years is the difference between a three-year-old and her age of consent, think about that.  The story follows a couple of high school kids who have to battle through hoards of high school crews a la “The Warriors” to reach the main bad guy and rescue the girl and get the glory.  Books can be bought that teach the characters new techniques that would blow the mind of Billy Blanks and stats are raised by buying food and toys just like in real life.  Never has punching a high schooler in the face been so fun.

5. Ninja Gaiden (Black)

This game went right where so many went wrong.  You are put at the helm of Ryu Hayabusa and his wide array of Ninja abilities including wall-running, flipping and the eminent Flying Swallow (not to be confused with Kobe Tai’s signature move) and battle through legions of characters ranging from opposing Ninja clans to flaming dragons to tanks.  Tanks.  Whoever thought of pitting a lone Ninja against a Panzer was a genius because if I was standing at Tiananmen Square I would have dropped a load so big it would have acted as a neutron star and would shred through the Earth’s innards like a jagged metal Krusty-O.  There have been complaints about the difficulty of the game but that can be chalked up to the overabundance of estrogen from birth-control pills in the tap water.  Whining about this game can be compared to bitching about Will Smith’s performance in “I, Robot” – stupid.

4. Zelda II: The Adventure of Link

This is undoubtedly one of the best games for NES.  Playing as Link you are entrusted to the revival of the fine Princess Zelda and play through a world littered with dangerous creatures at the will of the evil Ganon.  The game is set up in a linear structure where Link must traverse the land and reach castles where a bad boss awaits.  In each of these castles lies a treasure to help Link along the way.  Paths intersect the world and bring the valiant hero to towns near and far that may also contain an integral item none so formidable as the downward thrust.  It is a move so simple yet so powerful that kids across this land getting bullied have wielded butter knives in hopes of besting the fat kid taking their lunch money.  They still got their asses kicked and I had a bigger lunch.  It can be argued that the game truly begins once you get the downward thrust and I would challenge anyone to beat the game and be satisfied without it.  Pull out the cartridge, blow in it and the system, perform your own superstitious way to get it working and indulge in the reason sideburns became sexy again.

3. The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time

You must be asking yourself, “Two Zelda’s in a row, that’s preposterous!”  Well, up yours because this game made the N64.  Link is back and in 3D.  Nevermind the trident dildo contraption in your hand because it features enough flexibility to tackle the worst of Hyrule’s inhabitants.  Dressed in Neverland’s best, Link now wields more power and the ability to play the Ocarina flawlessly like Ian Anderson turning night into day and transitioning from youth to adulthood in a handful of notes.  The game is so long and fulfilling I’ve felt it referred to as Peter North.

2. Halo & Final Fantasy VII

Two games?  You can’t do that!  Wrong.  Two of the best games ever made deserve spots side-by-side.

Halo is the king of all first-person shooters.  It can be argued…never.  Though the original XBOX controller was thought of as imposing and impractical it was actually the way Halo, and life, was meant to be played.  Taking the role of Master Chief, you are thrust into the world of futuristic combat and must stop the Covenant from activating the Halo – the planet/ring/WMD Bush was convinced was hidden in the Middle East.  The filthy little feasties known as the Flood add another dimension to the game and the two groups battle like gonorrhea and Chlamydia for dominance of the entire shaft.  The dual-thumbstick apparatus allowed for a full range of motion necessary in close range rocket and long range sticky grenade warfare.  Multiplayer levels let gamers duke it out with limitless gameplay options and a character creation process allows you to make up any name you want (see: Boner, Kweef, Ass, etc.).  Halo offers a sweet story and tons of replay but don’t talk to me if you’re not versed in Legendary.

Final Fantasy VII, simply put, is amazing.  From beginning to end, the game pushes the PS’s graphics capability to the point where you can see the veins on Tifa’s luscious sweater cows and the withered grapes in Cid’s jumpsuit.  Cloud is an ex foot soldier whose hazy childhood becomes the hinge of existence as Sephiroth, one of the best villains of all time, seeks to become one with the lifeblood of the land, materia, and take over the world.  Sephiroth is so ruthless and manly that he uses his Shaq-size blade to run the kindest character of the game, Aeris, right through.  If you don’t think men cry then you’ve never seen this.  Cloud gets pissed, learns limit breaks, collects materia and learns Knights of the Round is his quest to violate Sephiroth all the while taking time to ride and breed Chocobo, devastate the Weapons and gamble at the hottest spot in town, the Golden Saucer.  Cloud makes friends and enemies and babies in one of the most epoch storylines of all time.

And now, for the Greatest Game of All Time:

1. Super Mario Bros. 3

NES created some gems, but this is the pinnacle of gaming.  Mario is back and, after the physics of the first game and the whip-it trip of the second, is better than ever.  As the archetype of Italians worldwide, Mario returns to a world in peril at the hands of the meanest and horniest turtle of them all, Bowser Koopa.  King Koopa isn’t alone this time as he sends his seven little early third trimester abortions to rule over seven different worlds to test the mettle of our dickbroomed demigod and his equally well-hung brother, Luigi.  Aided by little Toads who offer gifts from their mushroom homes and candy to children from their rainbow vans at elementary schools, Mario ventures these worlds gaining abilities like fire, raccoon and Tanooki and whipping foes like a sadist who snuck into a masochist recovery clinic.  I played this game so much that I still remember three Game Genie codes.  Off the cuff:




That’s how you spell devotion.  Coupled with the power of the three Warp Whistles taking this game down is easier and more satisfying than Debi at the local watering hole.  Get to the end and don’t forget to stand at the door and hold the proper buttons or you will feel more embarrassed than when mom entered the wet t-shirt contest at Sig Ep after bringing you bulk Ramen and Boku at college and after drinking one too many Zima’s and taking that mystery pill she pulled from her purse when she dropped her diaphragm and tore her leggings from bending over and picking it up exposing her lack of panties and mom-butt.  Forgotten memory aside until then, plain and simple, Mario 3 rocks.

There it is: the best video games of all time.  If you disagree then you’re wrong.  I win.