Ten Alternative Super Bowl Party Ideas

Are you all ready for some football?!?!?!?!!?!?!??! Yeah, me neither, but it’s Super Bowl LII, which is apparently NOT pronounced Super Bowl “Lee”, “El Eye Eye” nor “Lye”, which means I’ll watch it. Kind of. A little bit. Just the commercials for sure…on YouTube a few days to weeks later.

If you’re like me and only care about the Super Bowl as far as the commercials and free food from people are concerned, but don’t want anyone to think you’re anti-social, or want to a be hip to the new hipster scene, then you’ve come to a great place! While this isn’t a “How To Guide” since I’m not going to being telling you how to do these, you’ll still get some great alternative party ideas. Think of these as jumping off points. Much like how most people need to jump off a very high bridge into a dry river bed.

Oh, and let’s not forget that any advertisers, unless they’ve paid out the ass and are official sponsors, can’t call the Super Bowl the Super Bowl without permission. Yes, I’m serious. They’ve also sued churches for holding parties in which people can watch the Super Bowl. Again, yes, I’m serious.

Anyway, on with the list of ideas!


1. Commercials Only

Let’s start off with the most obvious type of alternate party, the Commercials Only. With this party, you only un-mute the television during the commercials and then mute them again during the game. You do everything in your power to keep people from actually watching the Super Bowl. Get out Uno, Twister (nude if necessary), Cards Against Humanity…it doesn’t matter, really. When halftime comes around, turn off the halftime performance and watch something like The Puppy Bowl instead. Make sure to hoot and holler at great commercials!


2. Pants Off-Dance Off for All Touchdowns

Kind of self explanatory. Any time “your” team scores a touchdown, then you take off your pants and dance in celebration. If you don’t care about what team is the favorite, or don’t have a team you care about yourself, just do it for any and all touchdowns. Bonus points for doing your dance on a table and lightening round double daily bonus for doing it on the table where people are eating when they are eating.


3. Shot Down!

To do this, you must take a shot of any alcohol for every first down. The harder the alcohol the more screwed up you’ll get quickly, so you might want to pace yourself. It’s something like the Highlander Drinking Game, but you’ll get a lot more wasted. Unless, of course, each team really sucks and there’s hardly any progress made on the field. I don’t know who’s playing and I don’t care enough to find out, so…this might happen this year. I don’t know.

This is an alcoholic’s favorite!


4. Pee Wee Super Bowl

Don’t watch the actual Super Bowl, and instead watch little league football, which I just found out is called Pee Wee. While I would never suggest inviting Paul Reuben over under normal circumstances, I’d say this is the best time to do so. Still don’t invite Jared, the Subway guy, though. Seriously. Don’t. I won’t be held responsible if you do.

 

5. The “Super” Bowl

“What the fuck is this?!” you’re thinking. I know, because I’m psychic, remember? Or, rather, I know you’re more than likely reading this silently in your brain, which makes you think it. Mind blown. I know. Why, yes I am amazing. Again, I know.

This super bowl is an actual super bowl. You and all your “friends” (see: cult followers) will gather around a bowl which will be adorned with an attractive color scheme, a cape, and underwear on the outside. Fill it with tasty snacks of your choosing and drop to your knees in prayer, thanks, fear, gratitude, and worship for every bite you take of said snacks.

Don’t forget the psalm of worship to bring forth luck and keep away its porcelain wrath. According to Reginald Scot’s records, titled Demons in the New World:

Giver of snacks
Container which never lacks
Keep us full and in high spirits
We shall never falter in our praise
Not once in all of our days!

COME FORTH, GOOD LUCK!
FUCK OFF, ANNOYING CUCKS!

When the super bowl is empty, you can either toss it back and forth between each other or wash it out for use in the next year.

 

6. Reenactment Party

Oh boy, is this one fun! You also get to trash not only the place, but your fellow party goers, too. For every play made, you reenact it in the area you’re watching the game in. If you’re in the basement, then you do it there. If you’re in the living room, then you do it there. If you’re some kind of amazing stuntman and watching it from trapeze wires, then more power to you…but you have to do it there with everyone else.

You may be sued by the NFL, but you’ll win in court if you can afford the legal fees to fight it. After all, it’s a live interpretation and alteration of what’s actually going on. Basically, it’s fair use. The injuries, however, are not open to be paid for by the NFL, even when you do win your case.

 

7. Get High – Get Fucked Party

Get high and get fucked. You don’t even have to watch the party. You will, however, need enough snacks and beverages packed with electrolytes to keep people going. Trust me, you don’t want to run out of food and hydration in the middle of an orgy. Things get awkward fast. Don’t ask me how I know, I just do.

 

8. Murder Mystery

Everyone loves a mystery and this is going to be talked about for years to come! You invite everyone over for what seems to be a normal Super Bowl party, but with one twist…every time the ball changes teams, someone dies! Make sure you aren’t the killer, though, because that’s too obvious. Get one of your guests whom you know will be down for this and have them take someone out and hide the bodies. Hell, even don’t hide the bodies, I don’t care. It’s your call.

As the game goes on, everyone will be scrambling to figure out “Who Done It?!” By the final minutes of the game, gather everyone into another room and have everyone who’s left write down who they think the killer is and why. If the majority of the people guess right, then that they get a prize! A prize besides getting to live, that is.

Oh, and to do this game right, you may just want to confiscate everyone’s cell phones and make sure you don’t have a land line. Also, nail down all your windows and make it so no one can escape. You don’t want some party pooper ruining the game by getting the police involved. Clean up may be a bitch, however, so make sure you rent a carpet cleaner with steam.

 

9. Swords, Knives and Guns Party

What does this have to do with the Super Bowl? The pregame! This is the only pregame idea in all of this, mind you. Let’s face it, you and everyone else is getting wasted before the game even begins, so you’ll need something to do to entertain yourselves before the game. The pregame always sucks, but this will make it better.

Start off just by showing off your swords, knives, and guns. Then you’ll progress to swinging them around and chambering rounds. Semi-final will be showing off what you can do, or if it works how awesome it would be. Finally, you end up with someone holding a rather large sausage or hotdog in their mouth and you take it out with either a sword, a knife, or your gun. Keep in mind for the gun you’ll have to shoot it, so it’s technically the bullet doing the job.

 

10. Just Masturbate Party

Ignore the game altogether and focus on the cheerleaders, or the commercials, and just spank it for three hours and fifty three minutes. Get snacks and beverages with lots of electrolytes.


There you have it! What kind of party are you going to throw? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to mix in meth with some RedHot Buffalo Dip. I put that on everything!

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Most Dangerous and Dumb Christmas Gifts in 2016

It was that magical time of year again, and that means it’s time to highlight some problems. On Christmas morning and maybe even on morning of presents for Hanukkah, someone is going to be unlucky enough to have gotten one of these gifts. Just like every year, W.A.T.C.H. is hell bent on ruining Christmas morning like a Muslim in a gay nightclub. While they do highlight some issues with toys, W.A.T.C.H. always misses the worst of the worst and instead focuses on toys targeted at boys and girls simply for being “gender specific”. Here are the actual Most Dangerous and Dumb Christmas Gifts in 2016 which were given.


My Very Own Alibi1. My Very Own Alibi
This toy line is said to have been inspired by the film franchise known as Home Alone, in which a rich white child goes on a killing spree of his neighbors while getting off completely free in protest of being left alone while his family goes out shopping. Pictured is the “Roller Puncture Derby” a la carte version of the toy. Others include the mouse trap with tack and shotgun shell and hand grenade on a sstring, the second best seller. Were do we really begin with this?

First off, the knife isn’t sharp as it needs to be in order to put someone down quickly. Some people might find this as a feature, but we find it to be a minus point to an otherwise ingenious product. Secondly, the skate is very rusty, but the knife is not. We’d give it points for adding tetanus with a dull knife, but since the rust is on the skate and note the blade, this is another minus point. Lastly, there is no ramp with My Very Own Alibi, but the packaging (not shown) clearly shows it flying off a ramp.

Kids have a great imagination, and this is just lazy. The toy has nothing to put together and basically just does one thing: Roll slowly and barely stab someone. Children are going to end up just throwing the toy, which defeats the purpose of what it is trying to accomplish. Stay away and if you get this as a present, get a gift receipt.


Pogoff To Space2. Pogoff Stick: To Space
Claims from the manufacturer:

Feeling XtReMe?! Want to KiSs the SkY?! Well now you can! After three successful pumps to prime the engines, the rockets will kick in and put you close enough to kiss the pilots of MH370 as they fly by on their infinite voyage around the world in space!

Aside from the tasteless reference to the fated Malaysia Flight MH370, there’s also a slightly veiled reference for drugs. Jimmie Hendrix used the term “kiss the sky” for getting intoxicated with drugs.

Even though almost any kid, and many adults, would love to ride on a rocket propelled pogo stick, the fact is, pogo sticks are dangerous. Ever get hit in the chin while riding on one? How about landing at an angle and falling or bouncing into a bush/tree? Imagine that at 147 MPH/236.574 KPH? Yeah, that’s going to leave one bad bump on your head and a pretty bad headache. I think we can all do without this. We don’t want another “Heat Seeking Lawn Darts” fiasco during a picnic, now do we?


My First Lynching Rope3. My First Lynching Rope: The Game
My First Lynching Rope: The Game is a choking hazard in disguise as a harmless family game. If you think The Game of Life is destined to kill your little ones who eat the cars or peg-people, then you’re not worried enough. This game is enough to kill every member of the family, especially any adopted black ones.

The game revolves around getting enough people on your posse in order to lynch the person next to you. Everyone takes turns rolling dice and taking cards while moving around a board. Think of this like Mouse Trap, except you’re the mouse, the noose is the trap, and your neck is the end game. If you can’t play your card fast enough, or have a good enough one, it’s lights out.

What the manufacturer didn’t count on is most of your homes aren’t equipped to have this hang high enough, so you’ll end up either wrapping it around each others necks and pulling, or using something like a door you’ll hope is strong enough to hold up old fat Grannie Christine. There just isn’t enough through going into this game and it shows. Pass this up.


Jihad Jerry4. Jihad Jerry
I mean…wow… This is the follow up the the Ibraheem Toys’ 2014 break out gift My First Jihad. While not directly marketed as an infidel holiday gift, they sure like to time it that way. The packaging is grotesque and 100% real.

Packaging claims it’s “Everything you’ll need to end the Jewish and Christian infidels of their lives!” It contains a child’s Qu’Ran, prayer mat, 4lbs of active dynamite, mask and robe, remote detonation backup device, and a map to local Jewish temples.

The interior booklet claims:

As your children grow and learn, they’ll want to up the destructive force for the glory of Allah. Use this as a great follow up to your My First Jihad toy kit. Praise be to Allah! DEATH TO ALL INFIDELS!

Who are they kidding? The previous kit is almost a 100% death sentence to both your child and their entire day care, so there is no “…grow and learn…” involved. We are talking about Islam, after all. Also, much of the dynamite in the packaging is pretty old and very volatile, meaning there’s a good chance it’ll explode before you put it in a vest and go to school the following day to show off your toy. Pass.


Coke Head Charlene5. Friday Night: Coke Head Charlene
At least your kids are leaning a valuable lesson here: Cocaine is a party and designer drug. Unlike the Medicate Me: Molly! doll from 2014, this doll knows how to “Fuck It Up”, as the box says. This is almost a buy.

What makes this almost a buy? It comes with real cocaine! However, it only comes with 1 gram and a very small straw the doll can use. There are no refills available from the manufacturers, either. This means to get the fix the doll needs to continue being fun you’ll have to go into bad areas or convince the local pharmacist to give you some. You know, for your “nose injury”. Good luck with that. Cocaine is also very expensive, especially for twice cut Colombian. That shit is awesome.

If necessary, a supplemental toy for this one would be the Barbie Spy Squad Cat Burglar Doll which will help your precious angel break into houses and steal her friend’s stash!


Well, there you have another five toys W.A.T.C.H. didn’t care enough to warn you about. We warn you about them, because we care for you. Wrap you child in cling wrap all over their head and paint over it so they never see the horrors of the world. Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah!

Remember when game developers cared? (s)

When people remember the good ‘ole days, it’s usually just because of nostalgia and not because things actually were better.  Well, it may have been better for them as a whole, like when really old people remember when it was better with blacks “in their place”, but that’s not what I’m talking about here.  Not to say all old people or old people in generally are racist.  Look, I know how you people on the Internet do with your moronic white knighting.  Chill out.

What I’m talking about in this entry is when game developers actually cared and did something about cheating or problems with their games. Yeah, believe it or not, there was a time when game developers would actively police their games to ensure a quality experience. Yep, that goes as far as banning cheaters almost immediately. You also didn’t get banned or suspended for playing the single player modes in ways you wanted to, or in ways the developers didn’t intend. Hell, half the time the fun was finding ways to break the game in your favor.

These days with instant hot patching and always on internet access, game developers are punishing players for playing the way they want in the single player modes and forcing people into their shitfest-second fiddle-thrown in just so they can claim to have a multiplayer experience-hack filled multiplayer while not addressing the hacking nor cheating. Look, multiplayer can be great, but game developers need to stop focusing on it or adding it just for fuck all’s reason.

I remember when UbiSoft cared about their multiplayer with Far Cry 1. I can’t speak for FC2 since I never touched the MP part of it. When people would hack and cheat, UbiSoft would ban accounts and even CD Keys. Now? Nope. FC3 and FC4 are filled with hacks and what does UbiSoft do? Suggest you play with friends. When people were hacking on Counter Strike, what did the devs do? MASSIVE ban waves every week! Battlefield 4 is full of hackers and what does DiCE do? Tell you not to make it public, use the Battlelog to submit the report, and then if the player doesn’t affect the leaderboard, they ignore it. Report enough cheaters, with evidence, and YOUR account gets suspended! The hacking and not giving a shit about it by DiCE is so bad, even mentioning the presence of cheating on their forums or on Battlelog gets the post removed almost immediately and your account deactivated for a minimum of 3 days. WTF, guys?!

It’s not just the developers, either. When did people who paid for something stop giving a shit about how unusable it is? When did people who paid for something and had the power to regulate its use stop giving a shit? What is wrong with ALL OF YOU?!

When the Vato Loco Gang clan on Battlefield 3 had a server, we policed it every day. There is a reason we were ranked #3 in the world for favorites and people constantly fought to get into the server, begging for VIP access and even offering to pay for premium spots. Why? Because we ran it like the game SHOULD have been. We banned cheaters, kicked laggers, and made sure people were having FUN rather than dealing with cheating fucks. These days, people are putting up rules for their server, and then not doing anything about it when people hack, cheat, glitch, or go against the server rules. If you aren’t going to enforce fair play, then don’t buy a server.

Destiny is so full of hackers, the PvP is pointless to play, but guess what? Bungie sure as hell forces you to play it. Do they care about it? Yes and no. Fuck no from the point of you enjoying it or banning cheaters. Yes in the way they balance EVERYTHING in the game, which is MMO based, to cater to PvP’tards who cry. Bungie has shown how little they give a shit about the actual RPG aspect of their RPG side, since their changes have made the PvE section a massive struggle thanks to mind boggling weapon balances (in order to cater to PvP’tards who cry), while demonstrating, through their own patch notes, they can EASILY separate PvP and PvE weapon damage! Oh, but don’t worry, they are banning people…who are listed as “unhelpful” or “inactive” on strikes. Not cheating, not lagging, not hacking…but unhelpful… Fuck you, Bungie. Three times. No lube.

Yes, I am RAGING right now. I am beyond fucking pissed off. What the fuck is wrong with developers these days? They act like WE need THEM, when in reality THEY need US, especially with bloated budgets and lowing profit margins. Fuck you, assholes. Start policing your god damn games instead of waiting until all of your expansions are out to get the extra money.

Character Diary #2 (GTA Online)

Holy warriors doing the Lord's work!
I have found religion. Well, I found it for about six days and then got bored. Still, I believe I now understand what it is that I am: A chosen one by god. How else can you explain my inability to die? I learned I am a holy warrior thanks to my friend Wyldfyre. Turns out…he’s also a chosen one.

So, pretty much, how this all came about was my buddy Wyldfyre calls me and says he wants me to help him “cleanse the unholy” as a “Jesus warrior”. I figure, “Yeah, fuck it, why not?”, because, honestly, why not?

Now, ideally, if you’re going to be a super hero, even one for Christ, you have absolutely need to be dressed correctly. The first place I meet up with Wyldfyre is the clothing shop. “Make sure you look good!” he tells me. We select the best suits we can find, kill the shop owner because they were greedy, and then head over to the barbershop. When we get there, we find another lost lamb. After allowing him to give us our super hero make-up, we try to explain why his life style choice is an affront to the Holy One. Sadly, he didn’t want to listen, so we had to baptize him with our holy rocket launcher. God’s grace kept shining on us! The evil force controlled by the devil was not hunting us at this time, so we were encouraged to continue our divine mission.

Driving down the night streets we looked for other lost souls who we were to save. What luck! Wyldfyre noticed a woman selling her body for money! Wyldfyre did his best to get her to understand her life choice was unclean and how Jesus did not approve. Realizing she wasn’t listening, I had to intervene. See, I can be very persuasive and I knew my diplomatic ways would reach her. Well, they would if she could be saved. The prostitute would hear nothing of the saving grace of Jesus. I knew what I had to do…I removed my blessed blade of righteousness and gut her like a fish. If she wished to be a hand of the devil, he could have her for a face-to-face talk!

Unfortunately, after taking down the dirty whore, I saw I was missing not only my baseball bat, but my crowbar, my axe, and my golf club. Where did they go? I have no idea, but I knew we had to get at least my golf club back. Okay, so we didn’t think about how it was around midnight when we got to the golf course. The positive side to this, however, is we found a lot of midnight golfers… HEATHENS! We made sure to cleanse the filth with molotov cocktails, which Wyldfyre assured me had been blessed by a priest, which made them holy or something.

The devil was now on to us! We heard the screaming of his demons in the distance. Obviously the cops were working as minions of Satan, because if they were under the influence of God, they wouldn’t be attacking us for doing Jesus’ work. If you’re wondering, no, I never did get a new golf club, but that’s fine. We had to get away from these demons. Luckily, Wyldfyre is a great driver, especially in my Zentorno. The cops were rushing us like mad men possessed by the devil…which we knew they were.

With the speed of God’s hand pushing us down the street, we did our best to keep the cops from getting us. I took to shooting out their tires and killing the most foul of them to great effect. The good ones were spared, however, by the grace of God! Nearing the airport, I told Wyldfyre to make his way to the runway so we could get in some planes and fly away like the angels we were. Unfortunately for the demons, they would not give up and sent helicopters our way. Leaning out of the window, I tossed C4 up to them and exploded the charge next to one of the choppers. SUCCESS! The explosion caused one to burst into fire, all demons on board falling to the ground. Before the helicopter blew up, it swerved into a second one and took it out for me. Two helicopters with one C4? Thank you, Jesus!

When we finally made it onto the runway, I could see the airplanes up ahead of us. I instructed Wyldfyre where to go, all the while killing the demon pigs chasing us. Like a mother fucking boss, I stepped out of the car as he pulled a hard turn and immediately began to keep him safe so he could get the airplane started. Seeing my chance, I ran into the passenger seat and Wyldfyre began to take off. “We’re getting out of here, Brother!” Wyldfyre told me. I was looking back, flipping off the cops on the ground, as I said, “Yes! Look to the sk…” As I brought my gaze back forward, a helicopter dropped from the sky and performed a text book kamikaze attack right into our airplane!

After a brief five seconds of darkness, the Good Lord placed us back on Earth in order to continue to do his bidding. Both Wyldfyre and I laughed for about three hours straight over how crazy that cop was. Damn, the devil sure wanted us! Finding a few fat people and killing them for the crime of gluttony and also a few people smoking, we took a car the Holy Spirit wished us to have. Where did we go? Where else? The Rainbow Unicorn, of course!

I didn’t beat around the bush on this one. Before entering, I stabbed the doorman with a broken bottle I found on the ground. Some how everyone inside knew what was coming and they began to charge out of the door, knocking me to the ground. Being the ever ready God Warrior he is, Wyldfyre made sure there was no one surviving this. I managed to put a shotgun into the back of two strippers’ heads and I felt proud. Even with the good work we put in, we were not finished here. I poured gasoline from the entrance into the main room, where I found one patron still cowering. Yes…yes I covered him in gasoline and shot the trail, setting the entire place ablaze, as well as cleansing him in the holy fire. Not surprisingly, the devil was really pissed off and sent his demons after us. Using the enlightenment from the Almighty, Wyldfyre found a way backstage, where we hid. Knowing we were protected, the Great Deceiver gave up after about a minute or so. We walked out knowing we had done God’s work.

After that we decided to run over those who needed to die and made the train smash some cars while we were in them. All in all, a productive time.


Most Dangerous and Dumb Christmas Gifts 2014

Every year the Boston Group releases their Top Ten Most Dangerous Toys. While the Boston Group is hell bent on ruining people’s childhood like a drunk step-father who is noticing his new 12 year old step-daughter entering puberty, this year their toy list isn’t as complete as it could be. For some reason, while the Boston Group has listed fun and harmless items, they intentionally and negligently ignored the toys I’m listing here.


1. Slashy Ruxpin
According to the manufacturer, Slashy Ruxpin is the failed adventuring Teddy Ruxpin after children stopped caring. Each story starts off with him either finding a dead body in his car, drinking in a bar, finishing sex with a hooker, or waking up after a weekend of drug use.

This new toy is being marketed as the “next great story telling plush animal and a unique interactive experience”. What make Slashy Ruxpin so interactive? Well, apparently as he tells the story, you must fuel him with alcohol or else he gets violent and starts to swing his knife. The truth is, he will get violent and swing with his knife randomly during each story session anyway.

Personally, no matter how much I’m told this toy is safe by the manufacturer, I’m not going to believe it. Sure, it says you are safe to insert the knife tip into your bare anus seventeen times for that alone, but is it really true? I seriously doubt it. Also, lighting him on fire when he screams for you to end his life is supposed to make him run around the house in a frenzy. How is that okay?!


2. HammerTime Harry
Coming from the box: “HammerTime Harry is the coolest, most depressed guy you know! When he’s not dancing to beatbox hits, he’s fanning the hammer on his favorite pistol in minority neighborhoods.” Included in the packaging is the “action figure” itself, two outfits (one for dancing and the other for mandatory court appearances) and a live fire gun, which shoots real bullets.

Where do I even start with this? First off, it’s teaching kids its okay to just saunter into minority neighborhoods. That right there is a dangerous lesson. Just like minorities should stay out of the well-to-do neighborhoods, the rest of us should stay out of their HUD controlled crack dens. Secondly, I’m pretty sure that’s designed to look like a striker fired gun, so there is no hammer to speak of. Kids already don’t know enough about guns, so leave it to the professionals to teach them, not some plastic doll. Thirdly, the gun shoots .22lr rounds, which are still pretty hard to find. Think finding a D-cell battery is difficult? Try finding .22lr in vast quantities.

Does a person with depression really warrant an “action figure”? You’d think more people would be up in arms over this kind of thing, but I guess not. This is why I do these consumer reports, because unlike the media, I actually care about you all.


3. Un-Nerf Flamethrower
If there was ever a toy I used to want, it would be this. However, now that I am older, I see this thing for what it is: A lawsuit waiting to happen.

Don’t be confused with the name of this toy! This isn’t made by Nerf. Nope. The title is to trick you into believing you’re getting something safe and secure. The Boston Group listed a toy bow which shoots a plastic arrow, but they ignored this? What the hell is wrong with them? I, for one, don’t need a bunch of kids running around the neighborhood burninating everything they come across. I shutter to think of the “flame tag” games which will undoubtedly turn entire metropolitan areas into ash!


4. My First Suicide Kit
This “toy” says it contains everything you’ll need to remove yourself from this mortal coil. Now, I don’t know about you, but should kids really be using this kind of product? Sure it contains cyanide tablets, a sharp knife, a noose, and even a .38Spl loaded with low pressure rounds plus a light weight trigger, but suicide is serious business. It’s not a game. A game means there is room for failure, and when you’re going for suicide you have to get it right the first time. You don’t want to fail at something like suicide!

Even more than the seriousness of this “toy” in the hands of your child, think how dangerous this would be for your child will discover it at a friend’s house. Do you really want them going into this kind of thing unprepared? They may think it’s a game! What happens if their friend decides to test it out on your precious little baby? Yeah, the Boston Group messed up big time when they over looked this literal death trap. This is a bigger oversight on their part since they forgot to include the Official Baby Death Trap!!!!


5. Medicate Me! Molly
Medicate Me! Molly is here to teach your darling daughter how to and the importance of self medicating. Don’t confuse this with Puking Pauline (learn about that one, here) as this toy is actually dangerous for your child.

Just about every popular upper and downer medication since the 1950’s makes its presence here: Valium, imipramine, venalfaxine, ketamine, K2/spice, adderall and oxycodone are all there. Similar to real life, the pills themselves aren’t marked as to what they are, but that’s not what the dangerous and dumb part of this toy is, oh no. You see, when Medicate Me! Molly vomits, one of those pills expels from her mouth for your child to eat. The only way to know which pill came out is to eat it. The manufacturer exclaims there are a total of 24 “colored treats” for your daughter to “enjoy”.

Self medicating is a real issue in this country, as well as many others, so to find a toy company trying to cash in on the trend is disgusting. Okay, yeah, sure, the fact an unlicensed toy company is providing prescription only level narcotics to children is an issue, too. Making each pill a colorful treat is unprofessional. Kids could confuse candy such as Skittles with a quick narcotic bump, only to be disappointed and become more violent. A kid who needs their high is a kid you need to avoid, especially if they have one of those HammerTime Harry toys!


Well, there you have five toys the Boston Group didn’t include. I have no idea why. Maybe they just don’t care as much as they say they do. I think they just want kids to grow up wrapped up in bubble wrap and go after the toy companies who have the deepest wallets. Fuck off guys, seriously.

Open letter from Rockstar Games marketing department

As an avid game journalist with one of the highest integrity ratings around, I was privy to receive an open letter to the gaming community from Rockstar Games, written by Take-Two Interactive’s marketing department. While the contents may shock some people, I’m not surprised with the attitude.

Rockstar Games was founded in 1998 to create the most innovative and progressive interactive entertainment, and some people have found ways of cheating in order to ruin the game for everyone else in a server…But it doesn’t matter, because our games are on the cover of multiple magazines and posters. Look how cool our characters from Grand Theft Auto V look holding those guns while surrounded by expensive cars. If you play our game online and give us more real money to afford our expensive virtual items, you’ll be that cool, too. And chicks will dig you.

At Rockstar Games, we allowed you to go online with a bunch of people, just like a bunch of other companies have done, dating back to 1996. However, ours is better, because we charge you astronomical prices for in game items in order to make you buy our Shark Cards. Because you suck, and we hate you.

You gave us $1.8 billion US in three days for Grand Theft Auto V. It may have been buggy, it still doesn’t include half the features we promised, and most of you can’t afford our in game items, but that’s your fault. If you were real fans and real gamers, you would love everything we’ve done to the game and to you. Once again, look at those new items we released in the Flight School update. You know you want those items. If you were a real gamer and a real fan, you would have enough money from grinding every hour of every day, only playing our game, or you’d buy our Shark Cards for $50 US a piece until you could afford it. And by the way, check out those cuts to the jobs we did for doing them fast and efficiently instead of wasting time. If you were really a true gamer and fan, you wouldn’t mind it. Plus, we interviewed 100 people and they all like it without complaining. Real fans would lick our boots clean, give us their entire paycheck, and tell everyone to do the same. If you don’t like it, that’s because you’re not a true fan nor gamer.

By the way, our expensive in game items like the Milijet and Buzzard Attack Chopper, are the bestest things ever, and totally worth the asinine scalped prices, but note that any other company which does this with their games, like Capcom, are commie jerks. Not that it matters, because you bought our game and we want more money from you. Because you suck, and we hate you, but you know you’ll keep coming back, eventually breaking down and buying our Shark Cards. We can continue to beat you down like Chris Brown does to Rhianna, but you’ll come back…you always do.

Buy more Shark Cards or we’ll keep removing your ability to earn money effectively in the game.

Sincerely

Take-Two Interactive Marketing Department by care of Rockstar Games. Because you suck. And we hate you.

Character Diary #1 (GTA Online)

Character Diary #1
Sunrie

My name is Sunrie. That’s all you need to fucking know, you god damn mooks. That’s the name my associates know me as. That’s the name my “employers” know me as. That’s the name the cops call me.

I’m doing this diary thing on advisement from my friend, Wyldfyre. Yeah, just Wyldfyre, deal with it. We’re all in agreement of no real names. It’d be stupid to do that. So, even for this diary, I’m using Sunrie, just in case someone ever finds and reads it.

Los Santos is a really fucked up place, let me tell you. I’m finding lucrative employment, though, so it’s working out. Still, the down swing in the economy means even my employers aren’t paying as much as they used to for a quick job well done. So, I just sit around milking it. The longer I take, the harder they think I worked, so…whatever.

Sorry, I’m new to this diary thing, so I may be rambling on a bit. Fucking sue me, diary, I dare you! Well…anyway…

I guess for my diary entry, I should recap how I met my two friends. Kind of to give you a taste of what my life has become since moving here. Oh, boy has it become something interesting. Not always good, but interesting.

When I first moved here to Los Santos, I didn’t have any real friends. That is, until I met Wyldfyre. I had been here for two months before this strange fucker entered the picture. Now he’s my bestfriend and I’d take a bullet for him. Actually, I have on a few occasions, thanks to him catching the attention of the cops. He’s even responsible for me getting my first hooker. Granted, I killed the bitch and took the money he paid her for servicing me, but whatever.

Then there’s Maximus. Again, just Maximus, so deal with it. If Wyldfyre is strange, Maximus is fucking insane. I don’t just mean crazy, I mean fucking insane. He’s a wildcard, period. Tell him to do something, and he may just ignore it and turn everything to shit on purpose.

For instance, Wyldfyre and I were showing Maximus around town since he had just arrived. Maximus was strapped for cash and the best way to get it is to steal it. Since the armored cars around the area were running dry, we decided to hit up a little road side store off the highway. Normally we go in, scare the clerk out of all his money, and then run away in a chopper we stole. Yeah, it is kind of strange no one thinks anything of three guys in a helicopter landing outside of a liquor store wearing masks, but…whatever…as I said, this place is fucked up. So I tell Maximus our plan: Go in, scream at the clerk while waving guns, then escape for fun and profit. He assures me he understands. Hell, even Wyldfyre believed him. We didn’t want any bloodshed, because the cops in Los Santos are fucking vicious assholes. The punishment for bumping into someone? Shot to death. The punishment for clipping their car? Shot to death. Every crime in this state is a god damn death sentence! The last thing we wanted was to have a bunch of cops chasing us in the helicopters. With everyone saying they were ready, I walked in totally casual. I asked the clerk how his day was going and then sprung my attack! The clerk put his hands in the air, telling me he was doing it as fast as he could, but I knew he was lying! Wyldfyre started screaming to do it faster when we heard a loud gun shot come from behind us. The clerk slammed against the wall in a bloody mess while Maximus just laughed. God damn that psycho! We didn’t even have the money yet, so I had to jump behind the counter and empty the register. The entire time I was doing this, Wyldfyre started laughing at whatever Maximus was saying, but I was too pissed off to listen. I screamed for everyone to get to the chopper as the cops were closing in. Jumping into the pilot seat, I started the engine and began the take off procedures when I heard Wyldfyre ask, “Uh, Max? What are you doi….OH GOD TAKE OFF!!!!” Not asking questions, I slammed the chopper into full power and began my ascent. Looking backward, I could see a grenade roll towards the gas pumps at the perfect moments the cops were rolling up. “I AM A VATO, BITCHES!” Maximus screamed. I can’t blame him for the shout out…we were the Vato Loco Gang, after all.

Thanks to my awesome chopper skills, I avoided the debris flying through the air, along with several cop bodies. If they weren’t pissed off before,t hey were now! I would say, on a scale of zero to five, with five being the most pissed off, they were a four. Making sure the throttle was cranked as high as it could go, I pushed forward on the stick to get our ass out of there. Suddenly, a bright spot light all but blinded me as the police helicopters circled in. Two of them! This wasn’t going to be easy, but with my skills, I knew I had a good chance to out fly them.

I told everyone to hang on as I was going to try some serious shit to get away. That’s when I heard gun fire coming from the back of the chopper. Yeah, Maximus was shooting at the cops with a god damn pistol as they chased us in a helicopter! It’s like he just wanted to get us put into the hospital. That shit is more expensive than the money we just took, plus we’d lose all the money we just got if we did! Wyldfyre’s laughing his ass off, which caused me to start laughing my ass off as we dove beneath bridges, hard cut around buildings and were trying to get away. Of course, every gun shot from Maximus let them know where we were, so it wasn’t going so well. To make matters worse, I noticed the engine was smoking like crazy. The helicopter was shaking like a baby in the hands of a British nanny and the alarms were going off. “Shit, shit, shit!” I screamed out to them, “Hold on! We’re going down, buddy!” Sure enough, the engine quickly cut power as we rounded a building, dropping us like a rock. By the hand of God or Buddha, the helicopter lifted up once more as we neared Vinewood Hills. Managing to put the chopper down, I screamed for everyone to run separate directions to distract the cops. Wyldyfre took off and so did I, but what did Maximus do? He followed me, randomly shooting pedestrians and cops alike! Okay, I thought that WAS pretty funny and it did give us a chance to steal a cop car.

I told Maximus I would drive since he drove like shit, and we began our get away. They damn cops were on us like stink on diarrhea. Every time I’d think we’d broken their sight of us, either Maximus would kill someone or the choppers would find us. Deciding there was nothing I could do about Maximus, I began to run people over for fun in the cop car. Wyldfyre, in touch with us through our headsets, kept screaming how the cops were on his ass, and his car was taking a harder pounding than a porn star. His words, not mine. Seeing a possibility for escape, I jumped the car into one of the many underground tunnels and begged Maximus to just stay quiet. Thank god he did because we lost the cops. The next thing I know, I hear Wyldfyre begging for help because he could only drive in reverse due to the damage on his car. I began to make my way out to him, but…I kind of got the car stuck in the tunnel. Just…don’t ask…it was wet, slippery and…well…it got stuck.

Maxiums told me to hang on and he’d help out. His idea of help? He stole a car and proceeded to try ramming me out of the ditch. Did it work? Well, if his intention was to get another car stuck, then yes. Getting out of the car and trying to figure out what to do next, Wyldfyre’s voice crackled over the headset like a madman. He was laughing his ass off how he just outran the cops, who were like a four out of five pissed off, in reverse with nothing more than a pistol and that fucked up car! Yeah, I don’t know how he did it, either! We are talking about the guy who would later shoot a chopper out of the sky with a pistol and another time with a musket so…whatever.

I split up our take and Maximus, the unbelievable psycho he is, wanted to hit another store. So…of course we did. After I stole another chopper, though.

So, there you go, diary, my first entry. I’ll write more in you from time to time as things happen.


Just check out these reviews for Sunrie’s WordPress site:

“He’s…maybe not a racist!” – User13277

“WTF?!” – Wyldfyre

“Seriously? Why do you write this? I mean, really? That picture, too? Did you really need that, babe? That’s disgusting…No. No! God damn it, stop typing what I’m saying!” – Sunrie’s Wife

“Your father and I did our best.” – Sunrie’s Mother

If those aren’t endorsements, I don’t know what is!