Oh great, a cave. I wonder what hero is going to have to kill all the monsters hiding in it.Over the numerous years of my life, I have dedicated countless hours to saving universes, galaxies, worlds, countries, cities, small villages, local elections, outdoor pie eating contests, and even individual kids from horrific evils and great dangers. I have rarely asked much for my services, and often times for nothing at all. Sure, I saved your small village from an evil curse or enemy attack, but I'm still willing to pay full price for my potions. And no, I don't expect to sleep at your inn for free. It's all part of my job as a common man tasked with the incredible responsibility of assembling a band of misfits and leading them to destiny against a great evil that threatens the safety of all. Why do I do it? I don't want to be a hero, I just don't have anything better to do with my time. I could take up stamp collecting, or possibly even hobo tagging and archiving, but I have neither the dedication nor the vanilliekranse fury for such affairs. Maybe my reasons are shallow, but that doesn't mean the great feats of daring I regularly subscribe to are any less important.
Lately, however, I have been wondering if my many heroic exploits are all for naught. I invest hundreds of hours into strengthening myself up, conquering lesser evils until I can take down stronger ones. Naturally, this leads me to increasingly distant areas, far from home and comfort. True, I do make friends along the way, usually a bunch of white guys and girls, a token black guy who can lift heavy objects and swing them in the direction of an enemy, and some kind of strange and fancy mutant and/or animal. That helps a lot in making the journey more bearable. My complaint is that everybody else, you in particular, fail to show any enthusiasm about my quest. Most of the time, like when I'm lifting an evil curse from your town that turned you and your fellow citizens into stone, you're just "thanks mister, that was pretty scary!" Honestly, what the fuck? I just saved your goddamn ass from no less than death, you ungrateful pile of poorly constructed horseshit! Sure, you might have survived being turned into stone for a few days, but after awhile you're going to need food, water, not to mention have to go to the bathroom. How are you doing to do that if you're frozen solid like a rock? I'm simply worried you're not worth saving because you don't even have half the common sense of an expired monkey.
You might get the false idea I have some kind of superiority complex, what with the fact I routinely vanquish evil for the good of every living thing and all. But no, I'm a very modest and humble savior and champion of virtue. I want what's best for all, but saving you doesn't seem to be doing you a whole lot of good. Just look at your life and tell me if you deserve to be spared from the evils of black magic, godless technology, aliens, demons, and giant sandworms. I'm sure your answer will be something predictable like, "Devil's Island? No one dares go there, 'cept for my brother, Ted. He never came back, though. Ten of us went out to find him, but only five of us came back. There's lots of treasure there, so if a strong enough man, and you appear to be one, was to go there and kill all the monsters, lots of riches could be made." I don't know how many times I have heard that answer, but each new time I hear it uttered a little piece of me dies and falls off, almost as if though I'm suffering the effects of radiation, which according to my Geiger counter, I am.
The average person I encounter doesn't do much in life. While I'm running to the ends of the Earth with reckless abandon, you hardly even leave your town. I have a big problem with you and I'm going to let it all out, right here, right now.
You don't seem to have a job
You're never doing any work. No matter what time of the day, what day of the week, what week of the month I run into you, you never have anything to do. You just sit around or pace back and fourth. I sure would be motivated to help you if you contributed to the world by at least doing something akin to work. Even if you pushed a crate back and fourth all day, it would at least look like you're trying and I can't condemn you for that, unless you're trying to push that crate into harm's way.
You don't eat or sleep, or you eat and sleep too much
I'm really sick of wandering into a local pub and finding your drunk ass at the bar binging on an endless conveyer belt of booze. I'm the one putting my life on the line, so what do you have to worry about? Are you trying to drown away the repetition or pointlessness of daily living? If so, I shouldn't save you. Another thing I hate is when I go to that one town, and there is always at least one of them, where a pudgy man or boy needs to be rescued. Hey fatty, if you can't beat a cake, you aren't ever going to amount to anything but a failed doughboy. I'm going to hide an amulet inside a pie so you choke to death, then I'm going to wear your bloated ass around my neck because I'm just that strong. On the flip side, I'm very disturbed by the people who spend all their life in bed, and even more slightly disturbed by the people who spend all their life never going to bed. I don't know how these banal routines of either sleeping all day or wasting time all day can sustain you. It's like you're all robots or soulless computers.
You wander aimlessly through life or on a pointless set pathMedia portrayals of blob monsters give the false impression that they're kind, jellybean loving shape shifters. They're in fact evil, smelly, and bloodthirsty. They do enjoy a good jellybean, but then who doesn't? You cause your loved ones to run off into danger
There is nothing more depressing than seeing someone who spends their entire life wandering aimlessly around their house or town, never really going anywhere, but taking all day to get there. I can seemingly walk from one end of the world to another, and save for the random monster encounters, do it in less time than it takes you to walk from your house to your neighbor's house. And that's even in optimal walking conditions, such as having the wind on your side or having received the blessing of the pope and the entire crew of the Apollo 13 during a special Super Bowl halftime ceremony. I suppose that's still better than spending your life walking in the same path for god knows what reason. Ten steps east, five north, five south, ten west. What kind of life to lead is that? I feel that if I were to not save the world from evil, the impending suffering would still be a step in the right direction. At least it would bring about some change in your life, and let me tell you, you need it more than Scott Baio needs to reinvent his image.
Something about the way you behave seems to cause your loved ones, such as your son, daughter, companion, best friend, or sibling to run away from the safety or your home and end up in a fucking cave surrounded by blob creatures. Blob creatures are often poisonous, not to mention smelly. And don't get me started on the sensual and hypnotic way they move, because this article would most certainly take a turn for the worst, which at this point would be a turn for the good, but still somehow paradoxically not good. If everybody would just take a second to let their loved ones know that blob creatures are bad company, the world would be a better place. Also, if you're going to drive your friends and family away with your repetitious lifestyle, at least have a worthy reward for me when I do the mandated good deed. Hint: I'm a little tired of getting potions, small amounts of gold, and magical swords laying around your house.
You need me to save you constantly
If it isn't your family I'm saving; it's you and your entire fucking town. The next time some evil asshole stops by and threatens to kill you, just tell him to put his money where his mouth-like orifice is, and do it. Tell him that his demon parasite-infested balls aren't big enough or evil enough to raze the aforementioned amounts of hell necessary to make an impact. I honestly enjoy the mystery of walking through a burnt out crater of a town more than I enjoy walking through a town populated with monotonous robots too afraid to stand up to an all-powerful evil.
You do nothing to reward me
If I do save your town, offer me something nice. As I said, I don't do my wonderful charity work for the money, I do it because no one else will. I would most definitely turn your crappy offerings down, but I would appreciate it if you took the time to maybe take up a collection or think of something nice for me. Instead you usually just direct me to a place where I can find more danger, and I get plenty of that in my strict diet of action. And would it kill you to offer me a discount with your local merchants? I'm sick of you charging me full price for potions you couldn't make if it wasn't for me. I have virtually no inclination to be a hero when the people I'm trying to champion are cheapass money goblins.
I think you can see how a guy like me would grow tired of being a hero. The people, you people, don't deserve me! I sacrifice my time, energy, mana, health, and sometimes my very soul, to keep you out of the wet, scabby arms of death. I have given you the gift of continued life, so unwrap it, put it on, and do something good for once. Stop roaming around like an idiot, stop drinking so much, stop eating all the time, and stop being a pussy! One last bit of advice: if your basement gets infested with rats or monsters, just pump it full of poison. Don't take any chances, because while it might be some kids playing or somebody doing something practical, you can never be too sure.
Goodness Gracious Paintballs of Fury!
Our very own neutered pool boy, Psychosis, got down and emotionally dirty by reviewing "Extreme PaintBrawl 4." Yes, they didn't just make one retarded "Extreme PaintBrawl," they made four.
According to the most comprehensive source of Extreme Paintbrawl 4 information I could find (the box), the game offers “The Ultimate Multiplayer Combat Experience™.” Not only that, but it is the sequel to the #1 best-selling paintball game of all time, and also supports multiplayer through Gamespy Arcade! Due to an incident earlier that day where I hit my head on the wall and broke my brain, I decided the deal was too good to pass up. As soon as the cashier stopped laughing long enough to ring the game up for me, I was on my way to experience the finest example the ‘nonviolent 3D shooter’ genre had to offer.
I for one enjoyed this review, except for when he bashed my favorite game of all time, "Totally Rocking Hardcore In Your Fucking Face Tiddlywinks." Hey guy, way mock a true classic.
I have raised over $300 participating in quilting bees for the American Quilting Bee Society so I think I deserve at least seven minutes of your time.
Ernest Cline, writer of Ready Player One, shares his newest poem.
The Something Awful front page news tackles anything both off and on the Internet. Mostly "on" though, as we're all incredible nerds.