Attention Dating Sim Fans: Your Console is Here.

OK, so the world doesn’t necessarily need another game review from some dummy who thinks he knows what he’s talking about. The world also doesn’t need another video game console. So far this year, we’re about to see the emergence of three mighty birds of war, the XBox 360, Nintendo Revolution (which I know is now called Wii but whose name I refuse to use) and the always boring yet best-in-show Playstation, which, in a fit of creativity, has named its new system the Playstation 3, almost leaving me longing for the relative creativity of the name Wii. So let’s get started.

As for the title, you’ll understand if you read this article.

(As always in my critiques, I will be using the store of knowledge I get of the E3 conference by reading the latest copy of Game Informer Magazine.)

As we speak, the XBox 360 is already on store shelves. At least as far as I can tell. I mean, you’re always looking at faceplates for this system, which looks as svelte as a female, no doubt to the love of video game nerds. (ATTENTION DATING SIM FANS: THIS IS NOT YOUR SYSTEM.) It also, again to the love of video game nerds, is the exclusive realm of the Dead Or Alive Volleyball Girls, who were known for, in the nicest term possible, booby jiggling. This time, the creators have struck one for girls who think that nerds need to get out more often; yes, they’ve made it so that when a girl jumps up, each booby unit jiggles independently of the other, thus creating an effect which most LA surgeons cannot recreate. And, of course, they’ve made it better in gameplay, as we’ve been told. Anyway, though, that is not my point. In terms of price, the XBox, again as far as my knowledge goes, will be midway between the Wii Wii and the PS3. I expect it to win in the video game wars on cost and games alone (it actually has an amount comparable to the PS3, including the booby jiggling game). The reason? Because it’s pretty, it’s got good games, and it’s got something new and different without being too weird.

Which brings us, as usual, to Nintendo. In case you have been spending the past five years in a cave in southern Zimbabwe, you have probably already discovered that Nintendo did not, in fact, learn from its last burst of “creativity”, when it gave the Gamecube a DVD system that would probably have been worse than a cartridge-based format, especially if the cartridge port had been backward-compatible with the N64 (which was “creative” in that it was at least 5 years too late), or shaped to look like the outline of a small deer. This time around, they gave it a funky-looking controller, which has one piece similar to a remote control which you hold in one hand and another little joystick which you hold in the other. Remarkably, if there aren’t any bugs with this bizarre-sounding system, it sounds like a lot of fun: imagine making your character move with the joystick and swinging a sword at the same time using the remote-control’s sensor capability (it can detect motion). Unfortunately, though, it will be pretty odd-looking, even if it is the cheapest one. I give this system a good chance of taking the sales cup, because it’s cheap and if the Nintendo DS (those little dual-screen Game Boy styled systems with the weiner dog game on them) taught us anything, it’s that gamers want something unique and inexpensive.

Which brings us to the PS3.

I give this system the lowest chance of being the best. Why? Because it’s same old, same old. The controller is virtually a carbon copy of its predecessor’s, and the system itself is expensive ($500 base, $600 with extra features), bulbous, ugly, and just lacks both the style and uniqueness of the other two competitors. Plus, its showing at E3 sucked.

So, dating sim nerds, which system is for you? The PS3, because-if the price tells us anything-it’s going to be fat and lonely on its birthday, pretty much like you.

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The Beauty of an Ugly Old Man in a Pontoon Boat

I just realized a sad fact: I had to update my blog today, a chore which ranks up there with cleaning out my house’s toilet. It is depressing, because I usually come up with a great idea, one that at least one million people would read over and over again just to read it, and then what comes out is usually unfit to come out of a horse’s butt.

But that does not matter, because today I came back from the mountains. Ahhh, the beauty of the Swiss Alps. Sadly, me and my family went to Heron Lake in northern New Mexico, which does not quite rank as high on the Beautiness Scale. Still, it was very special and beautiful, especially the massive plume of smoke which arose beautifully from a faraway hill because of a forest fire. And an ugly, creepy old man who attempted to hit on my grandmother. And our cabin, which is designed to look like a tasteless Mexican food restaurant on the inside. Need I say more?

In some ways I suppose you could say that the trip was a bust. I say that because nobody caught any fish. They would have been lucky to catch a large amount of moss. This is because my family has no luck or skill. Well, I had skill, but I didn’t catch any fish. In fact, I usually wind up snagging my line (the string on the end of the pole, you know) on rocks and losing my hook and bait and everything on the line at least five or six times, which allows me to lie, saying, “Oh my gosh, that fish took everything on my line!“, even though no idiot would ever believe such an obvious fish tale. This time, that only happened once.

However, just because we didn’t catch any fish doesn’t mean the entire trip was a bust. Nay, there are other ways to show success on a fishing trip. For adults, success is determined by the total amount of beers drank divided by total amount of times in which you left the cabin to go fishing multiplied by number of times you were able to successfully avoid a DWI from a park ranger, or, in math terms:

b / f x eeeek

For teenagers, a successful outing is determined by how terrible you were able to make the trip for your parents, in the hopes that they will never force you on a fishing trip ever again for as long as you live. In all ways, this trip was a bust. In fact, the only good thing about the trip was that it was a great deal of fun, and I got to drive my mother’s pickup truck, and I got to fantasize about a girl calling me (None were stupid enough. Not this time, anyway.)

However, there were some truly unique highlights, ones which I hope I will never have to live through on a fishing trip again. For example: There was an incredibly old man who attempted to hit on my grandmother. This was a man with eyes and mouth sunken deep into the recesses of his face, with wrinkles and blemishes and God knows what other problems. He came up to us, slapped his hand down on the tailgate of our truck, and just started talking. He then walked off, while we giggled and laughed (I did not giggle, I am not female) and my grandmother discussed with us the parameters of truly how much of a pervert this man was. Then, we watch him as he gets into his pontoon boat, about a hundred yards or so away. Then, we watch with horror as this man goes out onto the lake, and starts coming back to shore about 30 feet away from our truck. I, for my wonderful memory, cannot remember us ever packing up and driving off more quickly then we did that day.

Once we got back to the cabin, we cleaned off the wet fishing bait and took our fishing poles apart. I considered getting a knife, but we finally decided not to, because he was just a perverted old man. We went home the next day, stopping at Gardunio’s in Albuquerque, and then went home. It was a magical outing.

One which I hope I’ll never have again.