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Disclaimer: The following contains words like “Sh*t”, “F*ck” and “Boobies”. If any of these words offend you, please do not read the previous sentence or the following articles. Also, feel free to shoot yourself for being such an unbelievable pansy. Thank you.

Introduction to Madness
Everyone makes mistakes. Like the Hindenburg, Vietnam, or that time that I was so drunk that I sh*t in my girlfriends sink because I thought it was a giant toilet. Since companies are just big groups of people all trying to screw each other, it seems natural that these corporations make mistakes too. Big mistakes. Costly Mistakes. Qwest DSL, When Strangers Call, and Atari Jaguar are all great examples of millions of dollars spent on confusing people, ripping them off, and then ripping them off again, this time for tech support.

So it usually makes people smile when they see some piece of software that a multimillion dollar company has developed and not only was it truly magical-fairy unicorn sh*t, but that hardly a person bothered to buy it as well. It warms the soul like Christina Aguilera being tossed out of an airplane and landing onto Justin Timberlake right after he announced that he’s gay There’s just no match for internal peace like that; It’s almost a religion.

Lets make no mistake. Truly bad games are not “accidents”. You do not “accidentally” spend millions of dollars and months, if not years, developing a game just have it show up in the bargain bin after a week. There’s no excuse for that. Especially since there’s a simple test to determine if you have a bad game.

This test even the poorest developer can try. If you give a game to ten people and nine of them gag on their own vomit after five minutes of play: WARNING. You just may have a game that is suitable to be melted down and turned into pellets so that twelve year-olds can shoot out each other’s eyes. At the very least you should scrap the game and make a version of Tetris instead.

But sadly, most developers and publishers don’t use my test. It seems that developers, scientific name: Developus Gamus can sense crappy games by their smell. Once they recognize the odor of a piss-poor game they’ll summon legions of demons from the bowels of Hell to promote (read: lie about) the game in exchange for their souls. This is called Marketing.

Once the game has been effectively, or ineffectively sold to the public, it is packaged to make it look like it kicks ass, and it is shipped to retail stores. From here, the unwary consumer, not trained in the dark arts of the Marketing department, buys the game, takes it home, and plays it. The rest is too horrific to describe here.
The Plan
So what do we do about this? Do we just stand by while millions of our brethren are lead to the slaughter? No! This is the time for a hero, maybe a martyr. This is the time for a man to come out of the mist, controller in hand, and find out which RPGs are floatation devices and which ones are just mediocre. That man, undoubtedly, is me.

Over the past month I have been doing research and posting in several forums around the internet to find out what are the worst RPGs ever. In sum total, those that voted narrowed the list down to 25 RPGs that were probably made entirely of spit and various forms of fecal matter. And thanks to some certain group of Gamespot Ninjas I was able to play one of these RPGs a day for 25 days. So here are compiled the 10 WORST of the 25 I played, in the hopes that it may help you avoid the pain to which I’ve been exposed.
The Setup
In order to do any of this scientifically, I’m going to need a system. So I’ve created the following manner in which I’ll approach the review, or as it will be referred to from now on, the Pain Information System Overview of Facts and Figures or PISOFF.

PAIN-O-METER: This is the actual pain threshold that I received by playing this game. This will be represented by the number of sleeping pills I had to take in order to make the dreams go away.

BEST CHARACTER: The character that I liked best from playing this game. More than likely the one with the biggest boobs.

BEST SPELL/ATTACK: If you need me to explain this one then you shouldn’t be operating your mouse without adult supervision. Please seek professional assistance to click on the following link: [Return to Disney.com]

FUN FACT: Something that I learned from the game. Probably not the meaning of life.

Don’t use this as a definitive guide to how the reviews will be set up, I’m far too awesome for that. Just accept them how they are and move on.

3° World News Later

We do lots of weird shit

Artists do lots of weird shit. Like cut off parts of their bodies that they’re probably better off leaving in tact, trying to talk to plants and living in the middle of fucking nowhere. Its become almost a requirement for anyone to be a true artist they have to have a lifestyle that could possibly be confused for a serial killer’s To-Do list. When was the last time that you heard of a great artist who watched Monday night football, had 2.5 children (2 full children and a paraplegic), and thought that animals were put on earth to be eaten. Never. So it comes as no surprise that some idiot who wanted to be considered a true artist would need to do something really really dumb to even be considered for the position.

Lost Keys, Need Hacksaw

Trevor Corneliusien (don’t even bother trying to pronounce his last name) decided that he was not only going to do the old “live in the middle of fucking nowhere” by going all the way out in the desert, but he was going to one up that and bind himself in chains so he could “get a realistic depiction of chains on someone’s legs”. And the kicker: Trev forgot his keys to unlock the chains placing him 12 hours of hopping from the nearest bolt cutters. Next Up: The guy who went killer whale hunting with an unloaded pellet gun.

First of all, why the middle of the desert? Surely chains look the same in an air-conditioned room next to a phone with the Locksmith on speed dial as they do 25 miles from civilization. I’ve never been a location scout for an artists rendering of differing forms of S&M gear, but I’d have to say I’d have picked a place closer to a hardware store. The only thing I can hope for is that Trev knows something that I don’t. Maybe it was the lighting.

Ignoring that it would be easier for Trevor to just buy some cat litter and play bondage with himself on the roof, why even bother? It seems he could hire someone to put on some chains for him. If not that then maybe he could use Google. I mean if I go and image search for “Legs in Bondage” right now I get… okay scratch that. You did the right thing Trev. Don’t do a Google search.

[Click Here for the Google Search]

Go ahead. Do it.

Though it seems to be worth it all in the end. According to the Sheriff who helped Trevor out of this mess, said that “it was a pretty good picture of a man with his legs bound”. It damn well better of been. If you had pranced like a rabbit twelve hours through the desert and all you had to show for it was a painting that resembled the Enterprise being attacked by Phlegm, then by law you’d have to shoot yourself.

Dumb vs. Dumber

We, as dumbass Americans, do this kind of weird shit constantly. Then we turn around and wonder why people want to blow us up. It’s really hard to defend people like Trevor, he probably makes more than me yet he’s not smart enough to remember that he needs his keys when he goes and plays tie-up in the desert. But then again, some of the terrorists are pretty dumb as well, so I think we’re an even match.

One of those oh-so-lovable terrorists, Iyman Faris was charged with attempting to bring down the Brooklyn bridge with a handheld blow torch. I don’t know if you know how the Bridge is constructed, but I’ve seen Spiderman at least three times so I’m practically an expert in the area of Brooklyn Bridgeology. Let me explain how the system of load distribution works:

A) It uses a shitload of cables.

Now, let’s again assume that he gets there with his torch and climbs to the point on the bridge where he can cut the cables. How long does he think that he can stay up there? Eventually a passerby will probably realize that a construction company wouldn’t want to be dismantling the bridge while cars are still on it. Also, they just might might figure out that Iyman may not be a properly licensed bridge dismantler. Then, they just maybe-might-probably-hopefully reach the conclusion that he isn’t qualified to be taking it apart on his own, and they’d call the cops. This whole plan, unfortunately, relies on people not being as dumb as I think.

Of course these are the same people who use fertilizer bombs. You know, that just might be a sign that you’re not on the majority’s side. If you were in the majority it would seem that you would have the money to afford decent explosives. When you’re resorting to making explosives out of shit, you might want to consider a bake sale.

I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if terrorists were the ones that figured out the fertilizer bomb. One guy, sitting in his cave bored out of his skull lights his fart on fire. “Hey!”, he thinks “If I can get enough of this in one place…” Who else would pioneer a bomb that blows you up, then covers your charred corpse with poop? Well, besides evil clowns.

Evolution Strikes Again

Speaking of evil clowns, there’s an update on the Georgia case involving the stickers in their textbooks that I reported on a while back. The stickers that were to offer drool protection and bore students into a deep sleep that is necessary for surviving most biology classes have been removed from textbooks. Sensing defeat, the Intelligent Design Militia Group has moved their fight to Pennsylvania.

In Dover, PN both sides are looking pretty dumb, but in the stupidity wars the Intelligent Design people are always coming in first. Their biggest problem is that they’re trying real hard to pretend that ID isn’t religious. Lets check these out:
Christianity – The God created the world.
Intelligent Design – A God created the world.

Yeah, that’s the same thing. Changing an article (Articles are like “a” “an” or “the” for those of you who had particularly comfy grammar books in High School) in the sentence doesn’t remove the religion. If I say “I’m going to beat you with the bat” or “I’m going to beat you with a bat” you’re going to get your ass kicked either way.

Even assuming that Intelligent Design were true then I don’t think that we would want to teach it to our children. No wonder we keep creating a population that chains themselves up in the middle of the desert, forgets to make a spare key and argues whether we look like gorillas or not. We’re designed from birth to think that an old guy who lives in the sky is watching everything that we do, and now we want to remind ourselves every time we open a book. As Americans, we do lots of weird shit.

3° World News Later

Idiots Sue Everything and Lose.

People have got to stop protesting stupid shit. In New York in preparation for the holidays, people are looking for ways to piss other people off. Chief among these are the Krupniks who have decided that in order to celebrate Christmas, you need to have lots of blood, a beheaded Doll, and a Santa wielding a knife. Screw the chestnuts.

The Truth About Santa and Bush

Of course, as with anything that’s even remotely close to cool, people are going to get their panties in a wad over it. Peter Nardoza, 81, Member of the “We Get Offended at Everything” Council commented “What kind of a world is this that we live in?”. Well Peter, the answer to that is ’round’, but technically we don’t live in it, but on it. Getting back to the point Peter, that this country is almost ruled by a document called the Constitution and  there just happens to be a part of the constitution about free speech followed by a sentence that reads “no man shall be refused the right to mutilate a Santa Claus to get their name in the paper”.

Don’t try to fool yourself, that’s exactly what they’re trying to do. Claims by the Krupniks that this was supposed to be “fun” and that they “didn’t put it up to offend anybody” are bullshit. You don’t mutilate a Santa Claus and depict him removing the heads of dolls and expect someone with no sense of humor not to get pissed. Doing completely benign things like having sex pisses these people off, mostly because they’re 81 like Peter and not getting laid anymore. But really Peter, you can’t blame the Krupniks, if you have a name like that and you don’t already own an investment firm or a savings and loan then you have to get into the paper somehow.

The people getting upset over this are probably the same group that got mad at George Bush when he sent out “Happy Holidays” cards at Christmas. I don’t have the time or the energy to do my laundry once a week, much less gather a protest group over the wording of a holiday greeting from the White House. I’ve never gotten a card from any government establishment, unless you count Subpoenas so I’d be thrilled to get a letter from the government. So to all those protesting Christmas cards I say this with all sincerity: Get a Life. Really. Hate Bush for the right reasons, like being a dumbass and bombing people in the desert for no reason. Not for his fucking Christmas cards. You’re making all the other Bush-haters look like idiots. Well Done. The only time I’ll ever get upset over a Card is if I’m hanging off a cliff and scream “Rope!” and get a barrage of pamphlets that say “Happy Easter”.

Stupid Monkey

What happens when you get bored fighting the terribly unjust Christmas card from the Whitehouse? You go to Georgia and attack stickers about dead monkeys. Apparently someone wanted to add a sticker to a textbook that said that “Evolution is a theory, not a fact”.

Well, for the most part everything we know is a theory. The only reason that anything is accepted as a fact is that we haven’t found anything better to replace it with. If tomorrow we found out that tiny gnomes living at the center of the earth pulled invisible strings that keep everything from flying off the earth, then we’d have to ditch the theory of gravity and replace it with the “Unified Gnome Theory”. You think that gnomes are a stupid idea? How about a bearded guy who lives in the sky and made all the universe and everything in it in a week. You put those two right next to each other and its hard to tell which one you’re supposed to laugh at.

But to their credit you need to study everything with an open mind. Things are only true because the majority of people that care think they are. If everyone believed that a blow up doll was a type of cigarette, then for all practical purposes that’s true. But this group protesting evolution doesn’t have very good arguments against what the majority of rational people believe. John West, a person against the monkey-human theory has his best argument summed up in “If it’s unconstitutional to tell students to study evolution with an open mind, then what’s not unconstitutional?”

That’s a double negative, so he’s asking what is constitutional. In my never ending quest to help people out, especially you John, here’s a brief list of things that are, as you so succinctly said, “not unconstitutional”: Corn, Ice Cream, Telephones and the letter “R”. I would have put the letter “S” on my list but there is a group claiming that Jesus had two of the letter s in his name therefore the state can’t teach the alphabet.

The problem with this whole system is that adults are thinking like adults. For the entirety of  high school I didn’t even open my textbooks, so I certainly wouldn’t have seen any little sticker on the inside cover. The only thing that a sticker in a book would do for a high school student is that it would give the book extra padding and exceptional drool catching performance. In the interest of keeping the peace between people with half a brain and your average Georgia PTA member here’s my new sticker: “Question everything in this book.” There. Problem solved. Not that anyone but a bunch of pissed-off parents are ever going to read it.

WWAD – What Would Aliens Do?

Whether its a weird take on Santa, Christmas cards, or monkeys turning into humans, every single idea has its detractors. The only problem is that the detractors have way to much time to spend annoying other people about it. And when they realize that they’re wrong they get even more pissed off about it, so they aggravate even more people which creates a vicious cycle that ends up making everyone on earth pissed at everyone else. After the nuclear holocaust, when aliens dig up our remains to find out what kind of race we were the last thing that they’re going to care about is what Bush put on his Christmas cards, or what the Krupniks had for their Christmas display, or whether we thought that we looked like monkeys a little too much. So please stop protesting stupid shit.

Fat Declared Not a Four Letter Word

Fifth Graders everywhere respond with “Duh”

On Aug. 11, 2004 Fat was officially declared not a four letter word by a group of fat people trying to look like inflated Power Rangers. No really, they all stood in a circle, held their arms out and did a stance normally reserved for people with varying utensils in their butts, and changed the minds of (at last count) absolutely no one.

There were marches (no more than a couple of blocks, for obvious reasons), and speeches, which either due to poor sound quality of my 20 dollar TV, or the the Jr. Whopper with cheese stuffed into their mouths, sounded a bit like a weed eater mulching a sack of poop. Which if you haven’t heard a weed eater mulching a sack of poop, I’d advise against it. In any case I couldn’t tell what they were saying.

Paula Campos, a leading NAAFA (which stands for: something something something FAT something) supporter, and three time hotdog eating champ, declared “A very significant portion of the population is going to be quite a bit heavier than the government guidelines tell everybody what they’re supposed to be,” says Campos. “There’s nothing you can do about that. It makes as much sense to say that everybody should be thin as saying everybody should be tall… What??!! Free Doughnuts?!?!”. After which, Campos took off tackling a nearby policeman who was handing out free doughnuts to children.*

Okay Campos, (who, despite rumor is NOT part of the Marx brothers) eating at McDonald’s wont make me tall. Last I checked Awesom’z HeightGain™©?®  is not a staple addition to the McDonalds menu, however, fat is. And luckily, my parents gave me the option of not having my memory gland removed, so I could remember back to all the times that I went to McDonalds, and all the fat fucks that I saw day after day.

I decided to ask a professional, so I contacted my friend Marcus, who has been working at McDonalds for about three weeks. “See it’s really a code word when you say you want your meal “Large”. We, the United Coalition of McDonald’s Workers and Occasional Superheroes, know when you say “Large”, you really mean, “Hey, I need as much fat as I can fit into my mouth on my lunch break”, and so we add an extra layer of Lard (see the resemblance?) to your food. Its on your ticket, but you’ve never bothered to look at it have you? That’s the reason we got rid of Supersize; we couldn’t keep up with demand.”

The fact of the matter is that fat isn’t going to be considered sexy by the majority of people with any social graces whatsoever any time soon, or possibly ever. Fabio, Tom Cruise, Johnny Depp, or that guy from GC isn’t going to sleep with you… ever… you big fatty.

* The policeman was unhurt, however the doughnuts suffered serious casualties. I wanted to give a visual representation of the plight of the poor destroyed doughnuts, so I searched Google for “smash doughnut” and got this picture. Sorry, best I could do, Google can’t be relied on for quality pastry destruction photos.