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Zack "Whoops Oopsyvator" Parsons here, while running my hourly virus scan to remove the bugs that like to infest my spam mail my virus checker deleted both my inbox and a backup I had made to prevent it from deleting my inbox. This hilarious turn of events has deleted at least two recent banner ad purchases. If you have purchased a banner ad from us in the past 2 days or so and your ad is not running yet, please e-mail me the info and your paypal receipt and I'll get things taken care of. I apologize for the inconvenience!
Psychoanalysis Through Carback Expression Syndrome (CES)
I'm no psychologist, but this doesn't look healthy to me.
Criminal psychologists have used a number of tools and sources to "read" the motives and thought processes of convicts throughout the years. Whenever the hell the cops decide to catch Super Sniper Man in the Washington DC area, psychoanalysts will undoubtedly swarm over his house and belongings like escaped mental patients to an Art Bell conference. They'll pour over his childhood drawings, examine how he paid his credit card bills, and spend years analyzing his relationship with his postman in an attempt to piece together the framework for a mind that is, as doctors call it, "like completely fucked up, dude." These psychologists claim the key relationships in a person's life give an important insight as to why they suddenly decided to go batshit crazy and begin shooting people for no apparent reason besides the fact that they were labeled "the worst 'Duck Hunt' player ever" in high school. However, while these snooty doctors pour over every inch of a suspect's home in an attempt to figure out their motives, they leave out what could possibly be the most revealing aspect of a person's mindset: the back of their car.
I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume most of you readers have seen the backs of cars before. If you haven't, I advise calling a taxi, asking him to drive you into rush hour traffic just so you can stare at the backs of cars, and then having a close look at the rear of his vehicle as he drives away shouting obscenities at you. People across the world, or at least a 10-mile radius around our apartment, use the back of their vehicles as a really retarded form of creativity and self expression, like when a five-year old decides to grab a lump of his own shit and smear the word "WAGAGGO" on the walls. As you can guess, most people should probably be legally prohibited from expressing themselves, at least when there's a chance another innocent human being may inadvertently see it. The most common method of Carback Expression Syndrome (CES) comes in the form of bumper stickers, rectangular pieces of vinyl which convey important messages such as "I like Jesus" and "you should probably like Jesus too, you goddamn filthy heathen." As a general rule, the mindset of a particular individual can be determined by counting the sheer quantity of stickers located on their vehicle:
0 Stickers - Driver is probably old, boring, and highly uninteresting. They are mysterious, nomadic creatures that undoubtedly lash out with violence when confronted in the "12 Items or Less" line at Vons. It is difficult to create a psychological profile for these individuals, as their lack of stickers leave much to the imagination. They're probably child molesters though.
1 Sticker - Driver is somewhat responsible and feels very passionate about whatever their one sticker is attempting to convey, unless of course the sticker is for their parking garage. If the subject does feel very passionate about their parking garage, it's probably a good idea to leave them alone or at least call the FBI on them.
2 Stickers - Driver is probably a college student who feels proud that they enjoy The Dave Matthews Band and Phish.
3 Stickers - Driver is probably a high school student who is going to eventually wreck their car, causing the fire to feed off their stupid stickers and eventually atomize the entire vehicle.
4 Stickers - Driver is using stickers to cover up rust stains, bullet holes, and any other breeches in the car which could inadvertently let their remaining 19 brain cells leak out and contaminate the atmosphere.
5+ Stickers - Driver is some wacked out Jesus freak or ultra liberal / conservative who wouldn't hesitate to either shoot you with one of their 82 assault rifles or protest government rainforest tyranny at the drop of a hat.
The sheer amount of stickers located on the back of a vehicle is directly proportional to the driver's faltering grasp of reality. As you sustain more traumatic head injuries, the amount of stickers you decide to apply to the back of your vehicle increases, alerting government officials and informing them to add your name to the Official US Government Database of People Who Will Eventually Be Arrested For Stealing a Big Bird Costume and Ejaculating Into It While Tackling the Third Base Coach In a Mets Game. Now that we've covered what the quantity of stickers signifies, let's move on to the actual meaning behind the most popular Carback Expression Syndrome displays.
NAME: The Sparkly, "Hot Topic" Bumper Sticker
FREQUENCY DISPLAYED: Medium
PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE OF USER: Ditzy, shallow high school student who chooses to "rebel" against their parents by the cunning method of wearing black t-shirts which read "FILTHY WHORE, PLEASE SCREW ME UP THE ASS" in large pink letters.
DESCRIPTION: These types of "novelty" stickers are all novel in the same way that contracting hepatitis from a metal cow statue is novel. They are often located in the impulse buy carousel which takes up space near the cash register of some of the more fine mall stores such as Spencer's Gifts and Hot Topics, two franchises know for their cutting-edge, high quality products like "Fart Monopoly" and "Korn: The Motion Picture." To gain further attention, the stickers are coated with a layer of sparkling asbestos and various other cancer-causing particles which reflect sunlight and aid people in their quest to get into automobile accidents because they were blinded by a sticker which reads "TRU LUV" in neon pink. Other popular stickers include "Wink, I'll do the rest," "A dirty mind is a terrible thing to waste," and "I'm a stupid goddamn teenage whore who uses her parents money to buy retarded stickers and tight shirts which make my rolls of gut flab cascade over my belt buckle like a leaking vat of pig entrails."
NAME: The "I Like God" Bumper Sticker
FREQUENCY DISPLAYED: Medium.
PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE OF USER: Wacky lunatic religious person who feels that the only way to get into Heaven revolves around them informing each and every person exactly how holy and religious they are. They believe this can only be accomplished by applying "JESUS #1" stickers to their Honda and bringing up Jesus in casual conversations with the guy working the drive-through window at Arby's.
DESCRIPTION: People have worshipped some kind of god for, like, a whole bunch of years now. Wanting to believe that there's some deity floating up in the sky above commercial airliners is what keeps most people from putting a slug through their head after realizing their life is a boring, unfulfilling, monotonous chunk of time simply used to space out the events of their birth and death. As most religious folks know, the safe passage to a glorious afterlife is directly tied to how many people are tricked into believing they are just absolutely chock full of religious worth. While these stickers have noble purposes, they are sometimes vague and confusing. For example, the popular "Jesus is my copilot" sticker makes absolutely no sense whatsoever; if Jesus actually was somebody's copilot, He would say, "hey shitwad, take that stupid sticker off the back of your car or else I'll turn your blood into wine" and then Jesus would make it rain carp or whatever the hell He does these days. Jesus used to smite people but now all he does is lounge around in Heaven and place bets on the Israeli vs. Palestine war.
NAME: The Humongous Fucking Spoiler
FREQUENCY DISPLAYED: Wayyyyy too goddamn much.
PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE OF USER: 20-something year old who enjoys wearing sports jerseys and fake gold chains which turn green and leak fumes whenever they come into contact with moisture. The subject also works at either an automotive repair store, automotive sound store, or Best Buy.
DESCRIPTION: Humongous Fucking Spoilers are mankind's way of saying, "no court in the world will convict you if you run this vehicle off the road and cause it to explode from a barrage of ground to ground missiles." Some cars come from the factory with tacky, ugly-ass spoilers already installed in a futile attempt to appease the demographic of people who want to make their vehicles look like escaped clown cars. However, most of these idiot people choose to "rice up" (read as: "hand somebody a wad of cash in exchange for the service of making their car look like a very unsuccessful Decepticon Transformer") their vehicles by taking off that spoiler and replacing it with something slightly larger, such as a football goal post. These misguided folks are under the impression that, in order to go very fast, they must have a gigantic spoiler to stabilize the back of their car from the extreme wind resistance that comes with traveling at speeds up to 67 miles an hour. Other critical pieces of decorations that accompany this piece of festive plastic include the infamous "self tinted" window kits which create millions of fashionable large bubbles rising beneath the dark surface, gigantic white stickers which proudly display the vehicle manufacturer's name in 900-point Impact font, and a tailpipe large enough to safely smuggle several illegal immigrants across the Mexico border.
NAME: The Intensely Hilarious License Plate Frame
FREQUENCY DISPLAYED: Above average.
PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE OF USER: Trashy, mall-dwelling, food court-addicted slob who thinks the term "witty" is defined daily by the antics of that cantankerous cat Garfield. Subject has no problem taking semen-encrusted mattresses dumped alongside the highway and believes that any room can have a touch of class by simply adding one of those $9.99 black floor lamps from Target.
DESCRIPTION: Imprisoned POWs from World War II have been busy creating new and hilarious license plate frame quotes over the past couple decades so a select few individuals with $15 and a ready supply of crank could decide to send them their money and festively adorn their vehicles with such gems. These frames are then sent worldwide through a series of "black market comedy" dealers who specialize in distributing "imitation comedy" and claiming it's the real deal. This is the equivalent of dropping a yarmulka on Carrot Top and claiming he's Jerry Seinfeld. Nobody knows the true origin of The Intensely Hilarious License Plate Frame, but it's clear that the virus is mutating to new forms such as "The White Trash NASCAR Fan Frame" and "The Gangsta' Twisted Metal Frame Which Reflects Enough Light to Blind People 900 Years From Now." The Intensely Hilarious License Plate Frame contain such intensely hilarious quotes as "YIELD to the PRINCESS," "I'd rather be humping my parrot," "Big Boys Deserve Big Toyz," and "Somebody Please Kill Me Already."
NAME: The Crown Dashboard Air Freshener
FREQUENCY DISPLAYED: Below average.
PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE OF USER: Young urban thug or ghetto mom who got the interior of the car ripped out and replaced with purple shag carpeting, thereby impressing everybody they pass on their way to work at the local Burger Commando.
DESCRIPTION: I've never understood the fascination between minorities and The Crown Dashboard Air Freshener. I don't think I've ever seen a white person with The Crown Dashboard Air Freshener, as its main consumer base appears to be young Hispanic and African American males. It's probably one of those things that I, as an unhip white guy, couldn't possibly even begin to comprehend, much like the popularity of Nelly, Ja Rule, or UPN. Now before anybody out there starts shouting "oh my God, you racist shithead!", let me remind you one thing: you'll be shouting at your computer screen and the people around you will give you odd looks. I'm sure plenty of wiggers and ricers embraced The Crown Dashboard Air Freshener, but I apparently lived in an area of the world where this fad was limited to the old Cadillacs driven by what looked like the top half of a person's head (the rest of the body was below eye-level, so I assume most of their body was actually embedded in the concrete under their vehicle). I'm not even sure if these things are air fresheners; they could simply be "anti-Man" devices which confuse and bewilder "Da Man," like radar-jamming stations targeted at us pasty people.
While these CES symptoms are just a small portion of the huge, neverending list of remarkably retarded objects that people place on the backs of their vehicles for no readily apparent reason, I feel that this short grocery list of stupidity will help alert the criminal psychologists across the world to what may be potentially the most revealing and unobstructed view into a person's psyche. As members of the public, we can also take these items into consideration and respond to this growing threat by immobilizing any vehicle displaying symptoms of CES as soon as possible. Just make sure to tell the judge and jury that "Something Awful made you do it." I'll send you a free SA bumper sticker for your car if you do.
That's Some Cranky Crap, Sir!
Famed Half-Life hostage Psychosis has brought forth a review of a stunning new map for Half-Life: TFC named "Nuclear," which revolves around, well, something nuclear. VERY nuclear.
I actually had the misfortune of playing this on a public server, long before Cranky Steve kidnapped me and forced me to review shitty maps under the threat of being slapped in the arm (Im easy to intimidate). I gave up trying to play after a few minutes of pointless deathmatching, and I ended up spectating to try and figure out what the hell was going on. Several players were running around the map saying wtf im lost, a couple of people were saying HELP ME LAUNCH NUKE U ASS and a few others were gathered around the missile saying launch the missile im gonna ride it LOLOL. Needless to say, it was not a particularly pleasant experience.
Sounds like a winner! Be a winner yourself and... drumroll please... check it out!
Ernest Cline, writer of Ready Player One, shares his newest poem.
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