Virtual Flaneurism

I haven't posted an online game in a while, mainly because the majority of them lose my interest after about ten seconds, but I feel compelled to direct you to TOTAL JERKFACE.

The premise of the game is simple - ride your character's bike/Segway/shopping card/wheel chair to the goal. Oh, and try not to explode into a sea of blood.

My favorite character is irresponsible dad (less at left). I appreciate that his emotional distance allows him to watch the stage dice his child like so much butchered meat and keep on keeping on toward our goal.

This reminds me of a story:

As a sophomore in college, my friends and I understandably played a lot of video games. We were young, greasy and had a deeper relationship with the hidden pornography folder on our laptops than any living being.

One week our attention was absorbed by a wonderful game called Burnout. Burnout is a series of car racing games known not for their main schtick but a mini-game of sorts included with each release. This mini-game involved hurtling one of Burnout's racing cars into an intersection or heavy traffic in an attempt to create the most expensive car accident possible. It was sadistic and absolutely addictive.

We tune back in at the weekend, when my roommate invited over a friend and the three of us set about playing, virtual Christian Crusaders storming Jerusalem, if the Crusades is an acceptable metaphor for ramming race cars into mini-vans, tankers and school buses. We were knee-deep in mashed cars when my roommate asked his friend where he'd been that week -- apparently he'd missed a handful of classes.

"Oh, I had to go back home for a few days," the friend said, mashing the buttons and not taking his eyes from the television screen. "Funeral."

My roommate and I gave our apologies, and he asked who died.

"Friend from high school," the friend continued, still playing. We asked how he died.

"Car accident."

It was about that moment that Burnout lost our interest.

It's getting to the point where I'm just stealing things off people's facebook walls that show up in my newsfeed. It feels inappropriate.

From Bridget, without permission:

I LOVE THIS AD. Also, so excited to get this game for Christmas!

It's like James Franco's life goal is to be adorable.

Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. I am your father. Prepare to die.

Stolen without permission from Chatty Kathy's facebook wall:

I repost this video only to remind everyone that Tucker Carlson was, is, and always will be a complete idiot.

To summarize his point, the only issues that are not "sideshows" and "stupid" are those that effect all Americans. Forget gay soldiers, forget sick 9/11 responders, basically forget any type of minority issue until, *cough cough*, unemployment rates are fixed.

Let's see Tucker Carlson get kicked out his job for an aspect of his identity that is not a majority trait. We'll see how "stupid" and "sideshow" the issue is then.

That's some cheap ass.

This starts as impressive, moves on to somewhat more impressive, then becomes absolutely epic come the end. I wouldn't have the patience, let alone the dexterity to accomplish anything close to this.

There is this guy named Pogo or Fagottron who's been uploading Disney and Pixar remixes to youtube. He uses only sounds from the films themselves (and clearly a healthy dose of autotune) to create these bizarre, Passion Pit-esque songs. Toy Story's is below:

It amuses me that tumblr has been down at least half the time - if not all the time - for the past week. It's time to move on, everyone else.

And, for the record, I finally feel vindicated in my choice to use blogspot.

It definitely makes me a nerd that I appreciate that the chart-maker used a semi-colon.

Cher AND Rosie AND Christmas soul?

Surely this must be the Apocalypse.

This emitted a chuckle from me. I didn't know bodies actually did that.

So many signs, so many places that gave me or my friends food poisoning...

On Melancholy Hill - NYC Lights from Chateau Bezerra on Vimeo.

This video's intended source of humor does not disappoint, but what is truly worth a listen is Michael Buble's swear-riddled dialogue and the acerbic sass he delivers to this poor child's mother.

This infographic deftly explains why I've yet to get a summer internship (though perhaps it is because I have not in fact begun applying for any):

Never has someone had a more troubling adoration for their own hands. Meanwhile, she waves them around and rubs them like the are expensive, inanimate meat bags attached to the ends of her arms.

God can only fathom the whipped bastard who is the one taking out this she-terror's garbage.

So, I took a two hour nap this afternoon and, SURPRISE OF SURPRISES, it is serving me poorly come sleep time. Luckily, I have zero responsibilities tomorrow, so I'll just sleep until noon. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAoh god I'm so tired.