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?
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 Oooh, baby, you're too hot for Milo. How about you dump that chump and become the Venus de Tanzmetall instead? Seriously, I can’t be alone in this. I mean, I’m not crazy, I know they’re not actual women you can “do the deed with”, so to speak. But their breasts are always perfectly proportioned! And I just know that, if they weren’t made of hard plastic, they’d be just the right size to gently cup in my hand. And, of course, if they were real, they would love me. I play Dungeons and Dragons. There, I said it. It’s out there, go ahead and mock my basement-dwelling, Mountain Dew-chugging, cheese puff-eating tushie. I play D&D. And y’know what? I enjoy it. It’s freakin’ fun. There’s something missing from the D&D experience though. At times, the adventure can seem a bit too disconnected from the reality we live in (fancy that). Noting this, I took it upon myself to add a new class to the ranks of Barbarian, Wizard, Ranger, and the like, a hero for a more refined age. Ladies, Gentlemen, and otherwise… I present the Democrat character class for D&D 3.5! “A merry Christmas, uncle! God save you!”, cried a cheerful voice. It was the voice of Scrooge’s nephew, who came upon him so quickly that this was the first intimation he had of his approach. “Bah!”, said Scrooge. “Humbug!” He had so heated himself with rapid walking in the fog and frost, this nephew of Scrooge’s, that he was all in a glow; his face was ruddy and handsome; his eyes sparkled, and his breath smoked again. “Christmas a humbug, uncle?”, said Scrooge’s nephew. “You don’t mean that, I am sure?” “I do”, said Scrooge. “‘Merry Christmas’! What right have you to be merry? What reason have you to be merry? You’re poor enough.” “Come, then”, returned the nephew gaily. “What right have you to be dismal? What reason have you to be morose? You’re rich enough.” 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?!”
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. |
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