(This is the fourth installation of Old Games That Amuse Burpen.)
This was possibly the most amusing game ever made on the Sega Genesis platform.
~*~*~ R.I.P. ~*~*~
|
||||
|
You’d have to be brain dead to have missed the buzz around Geoffry A. Rawlin’s Philosophical Zombie 2 (P-Zed2). Moviegoers delighted at the original Philosophical Zombie, a blockbuster hit which threatened to overturn the zombie horror genre. The sequel promises us a bigger story, more zombies, and more horror, all on a bigger budget. Sounds good. But as a critic, I must ask the question: does the film live up to the hype?
So the story follows (Jake Sully / Paul Atreides) on this weird planet of (Pandora / Arrakis). Shit hits the fan with the death of his (brother / father) and he takes up refuge with the indigenous people, the (Na’vi / Fremen) who are wise in the ways of nature on this alien world and speak in a strange language that sounds oddly (Polynesian / Arabic). Today I’ve opted to provide to you, the very fortunate reader, a review of various chemicals and how they felt in my eye. After painstaking research and lots of running into things given my now-very-limited depth perception, I bring you this, a review of the chemicals that have been in my eye today. Pittsburgh loves hair and falsetto as much as the next city does, and your faithful Clunkline reporters let you in on the rumor that we’d soon be seeing an appearance by a lesser-known member of the old guard of rock’n’roll. Now, details are falling into place. An anonymous source reported Saturday that long-lived hard rock supergroup Magma will be playing New Year’s Eve at the Post-Gazette Pavilion. This will mark the thirty-eighth scheduled performance in Magma’s latest comeback tour. “We blasted out of the 70s,” said lead singer and triple-necked-guitarist Blaze Runway. “Musical pyrotechnics, exploding onto the scene. We cooled off a bit through the 80s, then in the 90s we went back underground, through subduction. Now we’re back in the magma chamber below the vent, if you know what I mean, and I really think we’re just about ready to erupt once more. After all, FROM WHERE DOTH ROCK COME IF NOT FROM MAGMA?!” I almost never hear anything when people sing. It’s all Charlie-Brown’s-Teacher noises until the song ends. Wa wama wa wa. But with some songs, it’s worse than others, to the point that I start to suspect that they’re doing it deliberately. Let me clarify. I’m not talking about Mondegreens. I’m not talking about Fuck It’s an Owl. I’m not talking about “Good King Wenceslas Lost his Crown”. I’m talking about cases where I don’t just mishear words. When I don’t hear anything. And I secretly suspect that’s because, with most of these, there aren’t actually any words. This morning, I watched Serenity. I cried three times. When I was done, I said to myself, “Films like that are why I write.” Then I watched The Fifth Element. I did not say it twice. No joke, there really are Ethiopian restaurants. It’s just like going to a Catholic brothel or a North Korean car dealership. You may be asking, “What, do you go there, sit down, and starve while the world ignores you?” But the advertising for these restaurants says they are completely normal, and deny that the food will be brought in by aid workers.
Mayweather Syndrome is a debilitating condition that results in audience apathy. Onset of symptoms occurs whenever Travis Mayweather opens his mouth. Shortly thereafter, the cancer of his atrocious acting metastasizes to the other cast members, eventually killing the appeal of the show. There is no known cure for Mayweather Syndrome. Along with the music quiz, I also have a little test to determine whether or not I think a movie is good. For this quiz, every film starts off with fifty points, then add or subtract points according to the following questions. At the end, the result will be my rating of the movie, on a scale from 0 to 100. Okay, right off the bat, there’s one thing I don’t get. So, there’s Dr. Manhattan, right? Big giant blue guy. Can’t miss ‘im. The dude can grow to be 80 million feet tall, and make a bajillion copies of himself, and crush a tank by waving his hand around a little bit. But he can’t do something as simple as putting on a pair of friggin’ PANTS. |
Entries feed:
Comments feed:
|
|||
Copyright © 2010 Clunkline - All Rights Reserved Powered by WordPress & the Atahualpa Theme by BytesForAll. Discuss on our WP Forum 216 queries. 0.473 seconds. View in: Mobile | Standard
|
||||
