First came the tentacle rape.
It was the beginning in a long line of horrors that OMGJeremy has subjected me to in his articles since the very beginning in 2002. (OMGJeremy.com was the site that most of us used to write for.) But you know what they say: what doesn’t kill you can only make you stronger. Well, I must be invincible by now. And not only have I seen a lot, but I’ve written about a lot too, articles that have been lost to time mostly, including a review of a site that teaches women how to rape their husbands. But in 2003, I found something that managed to combine all of those and more. It’s as if all my nightmares Go-Go-Power-Morphed into some unholy Megazord and returned to feed me my own ass.
“What is it?” you’re probably asking as you close the door and open a new browser window. Why It’s none other than Furcadia — an online game that let you take on the role of an animal and interact with others in a series of dream worlds. And not surprisingly in the least, it contains the three big staples of the internet diet: furries, cybersex, and MMORPGs.
Welcome to my long overdue review of a movie called Dirty Girl! Welcome! Please feel welcome! I just sat down and thought to myself, “Hey what should I do next?” I have like a thousand things that I am behind on. Some things, heck, I am like two years behind on them. Where does the time go? As I perused my List of Burdens that are slowly sapping my will to live — and I look at this list somewhat frequently, and I lament. I lament at how I have all of these responsibilities to other people, or, I guess sometimes you can call them “promises” or maybe even “paid commissions” and I think about how when they are finished, I will be free at last to live my life and gosh that’ll be the day, and then I go and take a nap or something. But not anymore! Not today!
I think it has been mentioned before that I am a terrible movie-watcher. The silliest things bug me and if I am bugged like twice in a film, I get more and more hateful about it all. By the end, if I sit through the whole thing, I have created a mountain of anger out of pretty much nothing at all and I will have a rant if anyone lets me. I am ridiculously hard to please when it comes to films, especially, and I want you to know that upfront, in case you have actually come to this review wanting an unbiased opinion. I am SO biased, so read everything from here on out imagining that I am a hate-filled shrew who can find no joy in any aspect of living.
I like my comedy scripted and rehearsed please. Improvisation is best left for jazz, freestyle rap, and Twitter.
You find yourself in a maze filled with edible orbs, and you are not alone. Monsters lurk in this place, is it a dungeon? Is it a castle? Is it a level of HELL? You must run from these evil things — oh! You catch a glimpse! They’re g-g-ghosts! Vengeful, doomed spirits chase you, wishing to devour your soul. So you run. You dodge them by darting into unused corridors! Oh god but there are more! Mindlessly being forced to eat orbs as you run in terror, you stumble upon one that causes the ghosts to flee from YOU. Ha ha! Who’s chasing whom NOW, you fiends?! You gobble them up for a few seconds, not nearly enough seconds. Then their fear is over. You didn’t kill any of them. You do not kill ghosts. The chase is on again, and again, and again until you somehow eat all of the orbs. Then it all starts over.
No, I didn’t write out an entry from my Terrible Dreams journal. I just described the basic plot of Pac Man, an early video game from the otherwise glorious 1980s. It was released on this date in 1980, and I was never the same again.
You might see these around sometimes in old people’s homes, on the street, or under the bed of some guy you met at the bar. They’re usually black circular thin discs, sometimes with a sticker label with nonsense words. But what are they?
Originally created as a sort-of frisbee, they did not catch on much. The strange method of production however, resulted in millions and millions being pressed. Many records (heh heh heh) of what was done with them since then have vanished but we can find some clues in the haphazard piles people leave behind. From what we can tell, these were once available from places called Urban Outfitters and a place called CBGBs. The last remaining mention of CBGBs indicates it was an eatery at Newark Airport.
Welcome back to our monthly comic series, Doofus and Darling. If you had Highlights for Children magazine when you were young, you’ve seen Goofus and Gallant. If not, it probably doesn’t matter anyway.
Facebook Groups are weird. You may or may not get a lot of invitations to them, depending on your friends on there. But if you do get a lot, we think you’ll recognize some of these kinds of groups. They’re usually strange, confusing, or a sales attempt. The titles are either vague or infuriating. And, worst of all, nobody ever stops talking.
We haven’t seen any that we’re likely to join, lately. But we can only imagine the groups that would actually tempt us into clicking that Accept button. Wait, is that how you join a group? Anyway, here are some we might consider.
You can feel it in the air, can’t you? The tension. The nervousness. The sheer pinkness of it, reaching for you. Yes, another Valentine’s day has come for us poor wretches.
VD is a complete train wreck of a holiday. It seeks to make us insecure about ourselves, our significant others, and the validity of our own emotions. This is, in part, because love is a nebulous and confusing thing. Everyone wants it, but few people ever really get it, because no one has any idea what they’re looking for. What do you think of when you think of “love?” Several images probably flashed through your mind; many of them no doubt scenes from romantic movies. And if any of those scenes involved Meg Ryan, just go kill yourself now and spare yourself some bitter disappointment.
I intend to begin a series of games articles today, with or without the help of my trusty sidekick, cchris, that take a look at the games out there in the world that are meant for girls to play. Even though I write tons of gaming articles (even though these are generally hardly even to be considered games), I am really not a “gamer.” I am dimly aware that there is a whole Girl Gamer Culture out there, and that there are politics and strife and some kind of women’s liberation movement screaming for equal rights and respect while playing various games, because not only are games a serious part of life, but opposition to women doing anything or having any fun is everywhere at all times. But I am not here to fumble around with explanations about topics I know next to nothing about. WAIT YES I AM. But the topic I choose to fumble with is games, not with complicated social issues.
Hasbro has a bunch of little games on its website, but I haven’t bothered to explore them. Really, I wouldn’t even know that Baby Alive exists at all except that one day cchris linked me to this one, thinking that it would stir up my maternity instincts or foul-mouthed rage – one or the other. He has his own reasons for experimenting on his friends and they are not reasons I bother to question. The only thing I am left questioning, actually, is why I click any link he offers me.
But I do, and I did, and I was immediately disgusted by what I saw before me. Truth be told, as soon as I realized what I was seeing and hearing, I complained to him and threatened to turn it off. Then of course, I proceeded to play the game.