Ugh.

So, there's this kid...

2008-01-23T16:21:00.000-08:00

... and he lives in my town. He goes to my college. He is in one of my classes. The full extent of his being cannot be properly comprehended by someone who hasn't met him before, but since I haven't updated in a while and my rant about the WBC's reaction to Heath Ledger's death wouldn't be anything you haven't heard, I thought I'd take a little slice of my own life for your viewing displeasure. His name... is Daniel Howell.

And never, ever, have I so virulently disliked someone to the point that seeing Daniel breathe the very same air that I do immediately renders the task a burden upon my soul. He is not just stupid and annoying, but a compact version of each and every one of humanity's foils, a useless sack of shit whose existence itself is a good argument for the collapse of the universe. He is not intentionally irritating, but there is literally no forgiveness for the kind of absolutely retarded guff that Daniel so cluelessly excretes. Most of which I shall describe.

First of all, his appearance. His fish-eyes are a faeces brown and sit haphazardly off-centre, peering lifelessly in what must be two different directions through glasses that I swear have been on his head since Primary School. His nose is big and lumpy, jutting out above a mouth that hangs open in that braindead fashion somewhat reminiscent of 28 Days Later. He wears death metal shirts constantly to assure people that - yes - he is one hardcore mothafucka, and his short dark hair sits unkempt in a way that is scarily similar to that of Mr. Bean. Daniel Howell is Mr. Bean The Younger, I swear to god.

You'd think despite all his faults he would be a somewhat tolerable person if he just kept himself to himself like a good boy, but oh no, this idiot is intent on inflicting the most skin-tearing sense of awkwardness on every single person he comes into contact with. He will randomly approach people that he recognises, people that wouldn't give him the time of day, and invites them out with him to places he's seen them at before. He is in such a desperate underlying search for some other form of acceptance that he will ask anybody he can think of to accompany him. ... and I mean anybody.

For his birthday party downtown, he invited his music teacher. A man who deserves his own seperate blog of hatred, Mr. Stock. Bare in mind Daniel is 17-18 years old, he asked a TEACHER to his BIRTHDAY PARTY. It is the epitome of the well-rounded void that is his social life. He is intent on voicing his worthless opinions on every occasion. We'd be sitting in a Media class, watching student-made music videos as examples of practical work, and Dan will say shit like "Well THAT was good wasn't it," and "Uhhh.. OKAAAAAY," as loudly as possible at the end of every single one. Like we fucking care what you think about what was actually a reasonably well-made video you useless fucking chode. You are not the Voice of the Silent Majority.

It's his perception on everything around him that is distorted so violently to the point where one questions the reasons behind their very existence. I remember once he caught me looking at some internet comic, promptly dragged a chair right over to sit next to me, and started blabbing absent-mindedly away, before glancing at the screen and leaning in to examine every fucking pixel. "Whassis?" He asks, I mumble quietly, "Eh, just a webcomic, something to pass the time." And he widens his dead eyes and looks at me in this way like I'm some fucking freak of nature.

Sorry, Dan, but I think out of the two of us, in terms of who is weirder, there is simply no contest. A single cell from your body contains more weird in it than the rest of the fucking universe does. But despite all your flaws and genocide-inducing traits and habits, there lies a sparkling future for you. People, I say this with absolutely no essence of exaggeration. Daniel Howell could become famous for being so unconcievably retarded. He could knock Dax Flame off the podium like that. Seriously, if he just made a Youtube blog he'd be a star.

I simply cannot go on. The mere extent of Daniel Howell's imbecile existence stretches farther than any plane of time. The very depth of his faults could refloat an unimaginable number of Titanics. Daniel Howell is the most staggeringly bizarre and unpopular human being ever to disgrace teen life, and I say that without one inkling of wordy-overreaction. ... he's actually got a girlfriend though, but I think she's got some kind of control chip stuck in there somewhere.

God save the Wii

2008-01-08T10:35:00.000-08:00

Yes, that's right! I, too, am partaking in this rather exhilerating bandwagon of 'oh my god', despite it being some quite-a-few days late: The Queen plays the Nintendo Wii, and enjoys it.

I'll just give you a moment to absorb that information if it's new to you (somehow).

Right, so. It stemmed from this article and has escalated into fanboys gleefully tossing eachother off in anticipation, but Her Royal Majesty played the Nintendo Wii when Prince William brought it round to Sandringham House in Norfolk, and became an instant success and addict at 10-pin bowling. I mean this is just heartwarming stuff isn't it?

However, there's just one thing I need to say before I can continue;
"Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II has found herself a new hobby--playing with Prince William's Wii."
NO.

And on we go. So, well.. all the core details have been covered in the article, but... what does this mean for the gaming community? Soon she'll be reflecting Bowser's projectiles in a feiry showdown of interstellar Pong in Super Mario Galaxy to save a Princess who fails to put out each and every time she's rescued, then she'll start one-shotting goblins or whatever-the-heck the enemies are in Twilight Princess (I am so uninformed on the Wii's games lineup). Hell, she'll be Katana-slicing Japanese gunmen in Redsteel sooner or later. There shall be no end to her victory.

Even for someone as rigid and emotionally vacant as Her Maj, once you get good at these simple games, you don't stop there. You just don't. The addiction spreads like wildfire. The worrying thing is, however, that as she moves up the ladder of game quality and experiences into the zone of the fantastical (let's hope the mannequin part of 'Condemned' doesn't give the poor girl a stroke), she'll start jumping on the gaming issues bandwagons rolling in from bigger countries about shit like Manhunt and Hitman, and then she'll be shaping the gaming industry in her own image.

Basically I'm trying to establish whether all this is good or bad. Good in the sense that she has a vague - if weak and quivering - grasp on today's technology and modern entertainment and partakes in it herself, but bad in the sense that she is the leader of fucking royalty. These two worlds were not designed to meet! This whole ordeal could be laughably sweet but it could also bring down a bloody calamity on this country. I cannot say any more until there's more info on this issue. We don't have a big enough picture. Expect future blogs as the situation develops.

Tell you one thing though. I bet she spawn-camps like a motherfuck.

Well, I sure Blacked Out!

2008-01-06T12:29:00.000-08:00

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you - here and now - the very reason abortion should be legalised. I give you... 'Black Out Band'.

I don't know exactly where to begin with this gargantuan slice of colossal failure, so - presuming you've had a very brief look at the website - I'll go Wikipedia style. Black Out Band is a small 'rock band' consisting of three 11-year old munchkins: Matthew, Tug, and lastly - I kid you not - Hunter. These unfortunately un-molested pre-teens are the exhibitors of some of the most skin-crawling homicide-inducing piles of absolute shit the music industry has ever been tainted with, and that's a real achievment considering Crazy Frog. Now, I ask you, take a moment if you haven't already. Take a moment, and watch the video on the website linked above. Just.. go on. Go watch it, and then read on when you're finished.

...

I apologise for putting you through that. Yes, I understand, I would have rather eaten my own sick than listen to that ear-splitting display of utter talentless tripe aswell. But now, you understand my pain. Judging by the way these kids "don't wanna go to school, just wanna be a fool" they've accomplished it magnificently, they're uneducated fools on an unmeasurable scale. I could go on listing all the faults here...

... so I will. I don't really understand how this abomination came to be in the first place, but discovering that the parents have actually written some of the lyrics, it's pretty obvious that these are just brainless rich kids with parents who can afford to do all this shit for them because "it's fun for the kids". You can tell that the parents control everything here just by reading some of the sentences. Let me just present a few to you.

"The concept of the song was born when the band's music coach always found the three playing video games when not practicing music."
So that's... all the time, basically.

"Hunter has been playing guitar for four years, with an enigmatic vocal presence that is slightly reminiscent of Neil Young."
This here, is the equivalent of when your parents stuck that fucking awful drawing you did on the fridge when you were five. This is that, but on a much larger scale. And I mean much larger. I mean, come on. His voice is like Stephen Hawking's computer on helium.

"Tug and Matthew are both excellent in the rhythm section, as the bass thumps and percussion stomps often set the tone for the song."
This is just a prime example of the writer's boundless naivety and complete lack of knowledge on what they're talking about. This is just laughably pretentious. 'The bass and percussion set the tone for the song'? Holy shit, these guys must be really good if the bass and percussion does something as incredible as that! I mean holy shit!

God, I really hope these noisy faggots get on the next X Factor auditions. The response provoked by their refusal into the further stages could just be the best moment of television ever.

The beginnings of my Blugh

2008-01-06T06:56:00.001-08:00

Welcome to my frustration ventilation thing. As I find myself increasingly annoyed by stuff in general now and then I've always thought that the 'write it down' technique was quite a nice stress-relieving theraputic method, as opposed to shouting it at the telly regardless of whether I have company or not (or a telly). So I'm going to go one better and whine about it on the internet! Essentially, this blog is an extravagant use of the term 'facepalm'.

I mean, hey - if I'm writing this down I might aswell start doing it publically. Then perhaps one day, some lonely internet wanderer, lost... forgotten... trapped within the vast and boundless recesses of cyberspace, succumbing to the embrace of fatigue, will stumble weakly across this cache of bile-spewing-partly-mispelled contempt and mockary... and-.. well, kill themselves.

The internet is a beautiful thing. This blog isn't.