While most gamers are all too familiar with the Super Mario Bros., few remember the enigmatic Fantastic Steve Cousins. Accompanied by his cousin, Ralph, Fantastic Steve led players on a magical journey through the Sausage Fiefdom. When the Mario Bros. soared to fame a few years later, Fantastic Steve sued the plumber for stealing his act. Unfortunately, Fantastic Steve was found dead before the trial began, leading to further speculation on Mario’s involvement with La Cosa Nostra.
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Well, shit. We’ve got iPad fever. The thing may be the cure to everything that’s wrong with our lives, but we must remember our conflicted relationship with the iPhone. For one, it didn’t get us laid. Then, we lost our jobs because of DoodleJump. And third… wait, what’s this 40 minute long voicemail I just got from my dad?
The blue turtle shell is only the tip of the iceberg. One has to wonder, are there still banana peels rotting on the brunette slopes of Choco Mountain? And how many fake item boxes have been left to the elements out in Yoshi Valley? These are the things we never think about when the confetti has been swept away and the winners and losers have all been chosen.
As Greg collects his jacket and car keys, he thinks about the day that he was given his marching orders from his father outside the tool shed on a swelteringly hot Alabama evening. Do what you love and everything will fall into place, his father had said, ever the benevolent quest giver. His words should have been the beacon with which Greg navigated his way through life. Instead, they were ignored, and now they rang in the bitter halls of his resignation.
XXX/***********\XXXXX
XXX|…o..0……|XXXXX
XXX|..(_____)..|XXXXX
XXX\____o___/XXXXX
XXXXX|……|XXXXXXX
The bar ungulates with beautiful people Allen has yet to meet and, if not for the next 16 consecutive Tuesday nights in which he’ll play their personal cipher to the final season of LOST, he never would. That’s because they’re different than Allen. Jacob’s a cook and a college drop out. Zelda blogs at a gossip site down in Soho and says she’s never heard of the game she shares a name with – even though Allen brings it up every time they meet.
“Oh, cool, you like video games? Well, uh, my friend just played BioShock 2. Yeah. And he liked it. Or I think he did, I can’t tell. He won’t tell me until the embargo runs out. Isn’t that cool? Yeah, it is. Yeah, just keep talking me like you think I’m cool until your cousin looks over here. Yeah, then she might think I’m hot and then she’ll tell her friends. No, that’s not the only reason I’m talking to you. What’s your name? Oh, yeah. Great. Now look excited.”
Teddy makes his way to the bar and sidles up next to a blurry blonde stick sitting by herself. She turns towards him, her gigantic pink nose rendering, her bloodshot eyes flickering on bright and her lips chapping before him. She’s a hideous, stringy witch of a woman, twenty pounds heavier than any other girl at the bar; a being worthy of being alone, especially at a place like this. Now Teddy must find a way to dump this ugly chick, and fast.
Tracy Porter saves money on graph paper by shaving the Metroid world map above his left ear.
Yes, I know it’s really hard for you to make gut decisions, what with your Asperger’s and all, but I think that once you’ve mastered tackling things without the aid of a d20 in the safe confines of Todd’s basement here, you can take this way of thinking up those stairs and out the door, and maybe find yourself on a date with a woman that you don’t have to excuse yourself every half hour to make a secret roll in the men’s room.
In front of the Apple Store
Everyone you know is trying not to make eye contact with you.
We were trapped in a cave in. When we heard the scratching, we were sure that was that. Damnation and salvation had rutted so much that day, we couldn’t tell the Devil from Jesus. We sat, weakened, hearing the noise get closer and closer. We weren’t expecting a man in a blue and white jumpsuit. If this was Jesus, then Disco was surely alive and well in Heaven.
Halo: I’m the Master Chief. Chief, not chef. It’s a military rank. I know he was in the army, Grandma. I’ve seen his purple heart. This is nothing like Normandy. This is on Earth way in the future. That’s Cortana. She doesn’t have to wear clothes. Because she lives in my head, Grandma. Just like you lived in Grandpa’s head when he was killing the Nazis.
According to Mr. Bomberman, he and his allies are fighting a ‘holy war’ against the ‘forces of evil’ embedded in this country, one that can ‘only be won through acts of vilence.’ [sic] He ‘has no remorse for baby killers,’ all of whom he believes ‘will be judged in the fiery fires of hell.’
Mulgore, 9:33 GMT
Roggie and Siri Two-Moons sat on top of a hill and watched the clouds for two hours before realizing that they were actually plumes of smoke, and that an Alliance raid had destroyed Orgrimmar.