Wednesday

Maybe We Should Fuck Sharks

Predator Press

[LOBO]

For an animal that considers itself “sophisticated” and “evolved,” I think we look like a bunch of assholes.

I mean a sex drive is an instinct built-in to propagate any given species, right? But does the female aardvark require constant emotional reassurance? Does the male platypus hesitate to pounce on any beaver or duck it can? An holy crap don't get me started on monkfish. I don't know who or what they're doin it with, but somebody is fuckin 'em.

No, indeed -it seems the only critter that really needs a lot of lack of simplicity is the human male. But in a Cosmic sense, it's the human male job to shoot DNA at stuff ... and if we don't, we walk around with painful diamond cutter pointing at whoever we're talking to.

Males are about Diversity: if no willing vagina can be found, we start looking for alternatives. At some point, we don’t even need it to be a live organism … it could be a plate of sheet steel for instance. It flies in the face of even environmentalism ... What the hell are we supposed to do with all those bent and bloody girders that just don't "work" anymore?

The female, conversely, is in charge of Selection: she is programmed to perpetuate only the best genes. But is anyone comfortable with this decision in the hands of Kate Gosselin, Nicole Richie and Ann Coulter? Personally, I think those guys with the so-called “best genes” are total assholes anyway. And how many rap artists and Mel Gibsons do we really need?

For most of us, a 24/7 male libido is redundant, absurd, and -well, let's face it- probably dangerous. Couldn’t we just do spores or something? This is the same logic we use for cops: we hire them under the premise of protecting us, and what typically get is harangued, fined, detained, hassled, disrespected, and abused by them 99.99999999% of the time. And before you says “Oh but you sure love a cop when you need one,” let me also underline I love Chinese food too -once a year. You can’t fuck with me five hundred times, and then justify it all by one day doing what you were supposed to be doing all along.

Me an a cop can both lose an hour at the intersection I failed to come to a complete stop at -an intersection that hasn’t seen another vehicle since 1974- and then I can lose a day of work at court and $200 for the fine. On top of that, add what that cop and that court cost to all of us via local, county, state, and federal tax "contributions." But while this huge machine has been busy thwarting my cavalier and evil traffic device disregard, the streets are crawling with drugs and violent criminals they "don’t have the resources to fight?"

Really? No resources? We simply don't count all the hi tech police cars, cameras, guns, meter maids, ticket tablets, radar detectors, radios, computers, helicopters, prisons, uniforms, et cetera ... because the recent and rampant scourge of wanton 'stop sign anarchy' is taking up the whole goddamn budget? This is beyond stupid .... this is Fucking Stupid. And I -as a human being- am checking in as officially insulted: as far as I’m concerned, we’ve hired a criminal army with a bad attitude that spends most of their time harassing us, and is analogous to hiring an arsonist fire department. Where did my money go, asshole?

The ironic concept of cops arresting prostitutes could -quite possibly- make my head explode. What happened to our sacred capitalist “freedom” when cops get to wipe out their competition? We don’t even get to pick who will be fucking us?

As a species, we just don’t make any sense. Why do we just accept all this crap?

My money is on sharks.


Saturday

A Contest of Wills

Predator Press

[LOBO]

I have concluded that if for some weird reason I should die, something has gone horribly wrong.

While difficult to imagine the concept of mortality and a chiseled phenomena such as myself in tandem, it must at some point come into consideration. Let’s face it: throughout history there is just a shit-ton of creative killing. One might even be forced to conclude that as a species we’re pretty fucking good at it.

Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King, LOBO -the thought of future generations dealing with these tragic losses is just depressing. And you know some weird religious sect would pop up -doin crazy rituals and building pyramids an crap- in hopes that I would rise from the dead. Truth be told I hate acoustic guitar: this would be totally unacceptable. If I do rise from the dead, me an Jesus are takin out those weirdo hippies first.

And holy crap, there’s the whole "zombie" possibility. Plus if my formal burial tinfoil hat isn’t aligned properly, there’s the chance of being remotely controlled by intergalactic robot dinosaur overlords or something -to aid in their sinister invasion plans!

-If you think about it, it’s in all Humanity’s interest not to allow or cause my death.

Nevertheless, if it cannot be avoided, I have decided I do not want to be buried or cremated or any of that witchcraft hoodoo.

I want to be detonated.

Instead of just bein plain dead, why can’t we have a little fun? I’ll bet it would be cheaper than all that funeral crap, too. Just dig a 12” X 12” diagonal hole in the ground (to focus the blast trajectory), fill it with explosives, lay my mighty corpse across the top, an pow, launch me mortar-style at something. Not a lot of explosives, mind you: bout six sticks of dynamite should do it -I don’t want to be vaporized per se; I want nice big, healthy chunks to fall down on something poetic of your choosing.*

-We should have a contest!

Gimmie ideas -like having all the parts fall on a PETA meeting during the “Meat is Murder” preamble. How about a Lohan family reunion or a Palin Thanksgiving? Or a Tila Tequila concert?


*Like Adam Carolla, I also want at least one really enormous black woman in pumps throwin herself over my coffin, tearfully wailing through a veil "Why Lawd!? O Lawd why him? Take me instead, Lawd ... !"

Wednesday

What to Do If You Are Vomiting Blood

Predator Press

[LOBO]

Doubtlessly, if you’re vomiting blood, you will need a few moments to clean off your monitor. In the meantime, I will entertain our healthier readers with my rather lengthy thoughts on Things I Can Live Without.

First, I’m getting tired of the Discovery Channel. How the fuck am I supposed to earnestly look for a job while inundated by reality shows about employed guys getting decapitated fishing?

At least TruTV has the human decency to fake all their "reality" shows about fantasy employed people ... you'll never see those Repo weirdoes get anything vital lopped off. But as for the rest, TruTV? We’re not excited about punks getting busted up on their skateboards anymore: a good excuse to invent better concrete does not a decent cable station make. Don’t you think I would be watching you right now instead of coming up with boring medical breakthroughs?

Speaking of which, if you’re vomiting blood, I suppose you should consider why you are vomiting first -all medical terminology is put in a hierarchy of acuity and lethality. If you‘re blood was vomiting, you would be in far worse shape actually: that is a sign that God hates you so much he is exploding you very slowly. On the downside, you‘ll look like Slim Goodbody. On the upside, you be in all Clive Barker‘s future films.

Since you are only vomiting blood, there‘s probably no reason to panic. Stop the vomiting ASAP. You need that blood. Were you eating something weird like peanut butter and sardine sandwiches? Caramel-coated oyster shells? Were you dipping Oreo cookies in green pea soup? Even the thought of foods like that could likely increase your nausea. I suggest thinking about something more wholesome. Like hot dogs or something.

I have supplied this delectable pastrami sandwich graphic as a helpful visual aide to fight the nausea. Doesn’t that look fucking awesome? I made Barbarossa go get it for me for lunch … Oooooo, I can’t wait. Nothing beats a free pastrami sandwich. Thanks Barbarossa!

In conclusion, if nausea cannot be controlled and you are still vomiting blood, treat it like any other bleeding orifice: a place a band aid over your mouth and nose, and sneak quick short breaths as not to spew bloody puke all over your monitor again. You know what? For the sake of tidiness, you could probably get away with breathing into a Hefty bag or something.

You’re not quite out of the woods yet: with the vomiting under control, you aren’t technically cured until we can stop the bleeding too.

You should probably call 911.

* Update: We at Predator Press regret to inform you that as of immediately after posting this, the pastrami sandwich was technically no longer with us.

[*sniff*]


Friday

Battlefield 2 Server/Clan Ratings


The Big =E= Clan:  ****

(four stars)

Good fights, but only allows 48 players and is touchy regarding the very trash talk they brag about on their homepage.  The hacker control is fairly solid -but with all the cranky ole lady mood swings, I think the "E" is for Estrogen.

But they still let me play there after a big trash-talking scuffle, so +1 star for bein classy.  Just keep yer yap shut, and kill them.


 =TAF= Infantry Clan:  *

(one star)

Hackers are reacted upon on a rare basis -so rare, I think the admin enforces it only to inhibit a win.

Worse, the =TAF= Infantry Clan idles with about 18 non-playing players at any given time, screwing up team balances. But as for the people that are playing? I got booted the other night for "inappropriate language," and I didn't have any dialog going at all. Thinking it was a fluke, I went back days later only to be banned for "grenade spam." Imaginary ordinance -oral or otherwise- isn‘t welcome there. So imagine yourself on a sporting server. You‘ll have a better time.  =TAF= also has an excruciatingly slow lag between rounds.

-I would give it a solid "zero stars," but I've only been playing BF2 for two years now … there has to be a worse server somewhere. Right?

-=TAF= is strictly for the lean on talent, weak of mind.


=BOX= Clan [Brothers of Xemption]:  ****

(four stars)

An excellent, hands off, no hassle server. Not a five-star only because the server only handles 48 players, and it crashes about once a week and does not repopulate quickly. Also idles with numerous players, creating "unbalanced" battles.


Thanks for reading!

I'll update this list periodically, so please check back.

-LOBO aka "slicingdevice"

Sunday

Leperball

Predator Press

[LOBO]

People are always asking me, "LOBO, with basketball season over and football not yet in full swing, how does a legendary athlete such as yourself spend your leisure time?”

Well I’m glad you asked me that.

I’ve always believed that people as gifted and successful as myself should spend a lot of time giving back to the community; encouraging the "less fortunate" that they too might become a chiseled physical phenomena such as myself is exactly the false hope today’s kids need to keep them from dealing drugs, stealing my car, or other things 'the community' generally frowns upon.

With Shark Boxing still tied up in pre-production due to a quagmire of insurance hassles, I generally spend my weekends coaching a pee-wee football team I signed up for Pop Warner called the Starfishes -a spirited and rugged little squad of ‘can do’ types, all afflicted with advanced stages of leprosy.

This is my third year -the first of which I am Federally mandated to because of the “Anti-Discrimination Act”: little Timmy's dad used it to sue me when I puked at the post-game pizza party and tried to resign.

Little Timmy is now quarterback.

His little dad must be so proud ...


Don't forget to check out my 2010 Pre-Drafting Tips!


Wednesday

FTWL

Predator Press

[LOBO]

I didn’t even like real football, let alone the fantasy variety.

I started participating in the HBFFL with the simple goal of selfish cross-promotion; indeed the team managers are some of the best bloggers around, and -win or lose- it was an opportunity to rub elbows with others showing glimpses of the inspired braniosity which I radiate.

This year will be my third, and I’m completely jazzed.

And a week or two ago, I contemplated my good fortune. Most football fans that don’t play either scoff at the concept of fantasy leagues, or seem a bit mystified and intimidated by the mechanics of “taking the plunge.” Thus, the HBFFL was a rare and unique opportunity for me to get my feet wet.

With this in mind -and finding the HBFFL had filled up quickly this year- I founded the Fantasy Training Wheels League -or FTWL. For most, it will be a League dedicated to rookie fantasy managers … for me, it will be a chance to experiment with some tantalizing non-traditional lineups.

But I need 5-7 more players. If you’re interested, please leave a method of contact in the comments of this post or send me an email at "carpenoctum at hotmail dot com" before the end of this month.

Thanks!

Don't forget to check out my 2010 Pre-Drafting Tips!

Sunday

Teenage George Lucas: The Lost Files

Predator Press

[LOBO]

“Dude,” says Lenny. “Are you feelin it?”

“Oh yeah,” says George.

“We should maybe go someplace else. That dog is givin me the heebie-jeebies.”

“What dog?” asks George.

“Dude,” says Lenny pointing. “Right over there.”

“That’s a palm tree.”

“Well I hope it’s friendly.” Lenny takes a drink out of his Coca-Cola bottle and winces thoughtfully. “Hey, what do palm trees eat, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” says George. “Dirt I think.”

“Whoa,” breathes Lenny. “Shit there’s a lot of dirt man.”

“Lenny I think I wanna make movies,” reflects George.

“Me too dude. And some waffles.”

“No I’m serious.”

“So am I. Some waffles would kick ass right now.”

“I mean about making movies. I wanna make a big epic science fiction saga about the struggle between good and evil.”

"I told you not to take so much your first time."

“It'll have cool robots an stuff," insists George. “Yeah. In fact it’ll have robots with personality. And I’ll create a handful of memorable and likeable characters to be the heroes.”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” says Lenny. “I would abandon that 'memorable and likeable characters' crap only a few movies in. Nobody wants those in movies with robots.”

“Robots and aliens,” adds George wistfully.

“Aliens too?” says Lenny. “Man that would be cool.”

“-With an evil Dictator, and a whole big Nazi-like army of half-robot lookin’ identical bad guys that can't hit anything they shoot at.”

“Dude,” says Lenny eyeing the palm tree carefully. “One of the heroes could be like a big giant space dog or something. A big giant spacedog that shoots a crossbow.”

“Big giant spacedogs that can shoot crossbows would get along just fine with an evil Dictator and a whole big Nazi-like army of half-robot lookin’ identical bad guys that can't hit anything. They would be in cahoots and lockstep the whole way.”

“You could make ‘em gay or something,” replies Lenny. “And when this ‘empire’ figures out it can’t legislate all the gayness out of ‘em, boom, it’s illegal to be a big giant gay dog that can shoot crossbows."

"Spacedog," George corrects. "How about if they can escape because they can fly the spaceships too?"

"Ooooo, cool," says Lenny. "And because they're illegal, it’s cool to make ‘em slaves or whatever.” He pauses. "I got it. He's a pirate. Or maybe a smuggler even!"

“I don't know," says George. "How could I possibly work in a big giant gay outlaw pirate smuggler slave hero spacedog that can shoot crossbows and fly spaceships? This seems a bit far-fetched. I'll have to scale it back somewhere. Plus I was hoping to keep these movies kid-friendly.”

"Just drop the crossbow then," Lenny concedes. "Maybe let him duel with a cool-looking electric sword or something."

“Huh."

“I’m hungry,” says Lenny.

“Me too.”


 Dibs on the Bacta Tanks"



Mattel Introduces PMS Barbie




Thursday

Little Boots

Predator Press

[LOBO]

-As for Mel Gibson, even as an enormous fan of his work, there is no defense I can offer.






Cobbled together there is roughly thirty minutes of audio -thirty minutes of Mel spitting venom. I haven’t heard the whole thing, but holy crap I'm glad I'm white: I’ve heard enough to know it’s ugly. The fruit basket he must've got from Tiger Wood's 'an Jesse James hadda be incredible.

But consider that thirty minutes of recorded audio didn’t happen by accident. Oksana not only recorded it all, but can be heard “pushing Mel’s buttons” so to speak for maximum effect.

This was pretty calculated, don’t you think?

It‘s like two diabolic forces collided.

But unlike zombies, these two didn’t cancel each other out; instead, I am inundated by a media jazzed at the naked schadenfreude. And this has completely ruined the whole Lethal Weapon series for at least a few months.

Unless, of course, Danny Glover wants to shoot up the courthouse.

Or if a guy that looks like Danny Glover shoots up that courthouse.



-I'm just sayin.