Monday, August 15, 2005

Chop 'em down

I do this to Michelle sometimes, for laughs (credit)

It's been a great weekend. Got a bit sloshed, got an internship for the fall, and started working with a new magazine. Hooray.

I haven't came with the update for a few days, mostly because I've been busy I've rediscovered my love for Super Monkey Ball 2 for Gamecube. I played the shit out of this game on my roommate's girlfriend's Gamecube for awhile this past year then I just stopped. SMB (no Mario) is definitely one of the most bizarre video games I've ever played, and yet it is ridiculously addictive (but not as mind-numbingly addictive as Animal Crossing, which I'm still slightly embarassed about). Basically, you can choose one of four monkey characters to play either mini games or story mode. This sounds innocent enough, yes? The weird part is that all the monkeys are trapped inside colored spheres in which they do pretty much everything and they're not even upset about it. They actually seem to like being inside balls (you have the ability to open up your ball when you fly off a giant ramp in the game "Monkey Target," legitimizing the possibility that the monkeys could escape these bizarre pastel prisons but actively choose not to). The reasoning behind the balls is never addressed in the game; in fact, the only time the monkeys actually talk is during cut scenes where they engage in synchronized flying/creepy Japanese pop song singing. Shit's weird.

A few posts back I jokingly wrote that I hoped the NCAA wouldn't crack down on the University of Illinois and deem their Illini mascot offensive. Spoke too soon.

An insanely creepy
history of rock music by L. Ron Hubbard.

I was online the other day and I saw an ad for a free Cuban Link
mixtape download. As much as I find Cuban Link to be the Mr. Irrelevant of rap (plus, dude is getting kinda fat), I couldn't resist the free-ness of it. I also wanted to see if there was any truth to the long-standing Cuban Link joining G-Unit rumor (if dudes are just trying to recruit anyone that doesn't like Fat Joe, my little sister and I are definite contenders). Anyway, this shit is riddled with G-Unit beats, and most of it is pure garbage. Cuban did happen to surprise me on a few songs though, believe it or not. The titular "Man On Fire" finds dude spitting all sorts of anti-Fat Joe rhetoric over "So Seductive" beat with some guy named J Benjamin (?). He also displays some fairly solid hyperactive-flow stuff on "Time," which is listenable despite the terrible hook. Based just on the tape, I don't really think dude is going to do any damage with his upcoming album. At least he's eating well (before/after).

Great review of the Young Jeezy album over at
The Shrimp.

Reef The Lost Cauze Feast Or Famine sampler over here. I'm really looking forward to this album; Reef kills beats bad. Emil produced joints on it. What's up with the advance copy look anyway?

Boxing out is a rudimentary skill. Boxing out
effing gigantic Polish women probably sucks

I watched two creepy movies tonight- The Tenant and The Omen. The former is a freaking bizarre and weird film that involves Roman Polanski crossdressing a lot. The latter is one of those classic flicks I had never seen. I wasn't really familiar with the plot so I checked the IMDB page and was treated to the stupidest summary ever: "Gregory Peck is the ambassador to the United States who's wife has a stillborn child. Without her knowledge, he substitutes another baby as theirs. A few years go by, and then grisly deaths begin to happen. The child's nanny hangs herself and a priest is speared to death in a freak accident. It turns out the child is the son of Satan and can only be killed with the seven daggers of Meggado." The last two sentences are completely unnecessary; it's true that these things happened in the movie, but they are really inconsequential and slightly spoiler-esque to anyone who just wants to get the jist of things. It'd be like if the summary for Dumb & Dumber read something like "Two friends embark on a trip to Aspen. They give a dead headless bird to a blind child. Cam Neely's in it."

I like how this article is more about the dangers of children using the Internet and text messaging and less about how the police let a naked pedophile just run away.

Surprisingly, Rick Reilly responded to my e-mail.

I am a 21-year-old student from Bel Air, MD currently living in Philadelphia. I just wanted to say how much I agree with your stance on steroid abuse in the majors ( "Gutless Wonders" column in the 8/15 issue). As a lifelong O's fan, I was devastated that Palmeiro tested positive after being lauded (by SI, no less) for his performance during the congressional hearings. At first, I desperately wanted to believe his claims that he had taken banned substances unintentionally; after all, Raffy was the classy, family-friendly guy I grew up watching at Camden Yards and in local commercials for air conditioners. After reading your column, however, I have a better perspective on players who test positive and attempt to save face through ridiculous, almost comedic backpedaling. Although a player like Palmeiro statistically deserves Hall of Fame consideration, it's a damn shame that this scandal will forever tarnish his otherwise impressive career.


Thanks for writing. I haven't had time to read your mail yet, but I will. If it's about something you liked, thanks. If it's about something you didn't, it was probably not written by me, but by my evil twin. Anyway, thanks. Feedback means a lot to me.

Rick Reilly

That's awesome. Rick, do yourself a favor and delete my e-mail forever (I'm saying this like he hasn't already). On second thought, I think my letter might be stupid and generic enough to make print. Check for me.

In honor of this exceedingly vitriolic criticism of Sex, Drugs & Cocoa Puffs, how about a Chuck question? Here goes:

You meet your soul mate. However, there is a catch: Every three years, someone will break both of your soul mate's collarbones with a Crescent wrench, and there is only one way you can stop this from happening: You must swallow a pill that will make every song you hear-for the rest of your life-sound as if it's being performed by the band Alice in Chains. When you hear Creedence Clearwater Revival on the radio, it will sound (to your ears) like it's being played by Alice in Chains. If you see Radiohead live, every one of their tunes will sound like it's being coveredby Alice in Chains. When you hear a commercial jingle on TV, it will sound like Alice in Chains; if you sing to yourself in the shower, your voice will sound like deceased Alice vocalist Layne Staley performing a capella (but it will only sound this way toyou). Would you swallow the pill?

Okay, getting your collarbones broken most certainly sucks (eh, Kibby, eh?) but it's only every three years, whereas I would have to suffer with hearing Alice in Chains for the rest of my life. Also, once your collarbone is broken, I don't think it really goes back to complete normalcy without reconstructive surgery, so it's not like the collarbones in question are going to be brand new when they get smashed triannually. I realize that this statement is completely devoid of any type of compassion, but just try and imagine Alice in Chains as an omnipresence in your life (I mean, I get angry and smash the buttons on my car radio when "Rooster" comes on, even though several people have tried to convince me it's a good song since it's about a soldier in Vietnam). What do you think would happen if you legitimately heard the original rendition of "Man In The Box," though? I like to think it'd be the musical equivalent of turning a humidifer and a dehumidifier on at the same time: doomsday.

The entire Uber Team will soon be assembled for the beginning of this school year. This can only mean one thing: friendship and solidarity
fun drunken times cost- and guilt-free peer editing digital cable!

It's almost disgusting how much I used strikeout in this post I love strikeout.

1 comment:

Trebuchet said...

Though Super Monkey Ball is good, BustAMove is the most addictive video game of all time. More on this later.