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A fully loaded Uzi 9 mm of well-balanced opinions!

Things can always get worse. This is an iron-clad rule we must all learn the hard way.

 . . .
Bad Luck: Finding a worm in your apple.
Worse Luck: Finding evidence that a worm may have been making residence in the apple which you just ate.
Bad Karma Overload: The apple is a grenade.

Bad Luck: Getting caught out in heavy rain.
Worse Luck:  . . . while a mile away from home with a dead mobile phone, unable to call for help.
Bad Karma Overload: . . . when you're a snowman.

Bad Luck: Realising you've missed a deadline.
Worse Luck: Realising you've missed a final exam.
Bad Karma Overload: Realising you've missed out on all the opprtunities for meaningful relationships in your life, and they were all dependant on the exams you missed.

Bad Luck: Getting dumped.
Worse Luck: . . . at the altar.
Bad Karma Overload: . . . because she thought you were a woman all this time.

Bad Luck: A collision between your car and another's.
Worse Luck: . . . which leaves your car with a scratch and none on the other's.
Bad Karma Overload: The scratch is three feet deep and six long. Through the engine.

Bad Luck: You get an illness.
Worse Luck: . . . from a loved one.
Bad Karma Overload: . . . it's terminal, and your lover leaves you for your care nurse.

Bad Luck: Your housemate eats your plate of food in the fridge, they throw half of it away.
Worse Luck:  It's after the nuclear apocalypse. There is no other food around without risking dismemberment by the mutants who live out in the wasteland.
Bad Karma Overload: The food landed on that big ball of fuzzy stuff that came out of the dryer.

Bad Luck: Your house gets robbed.
Worse Luck: The thieves ignore the valuable stuff and take only yours.
Bad Karma Overload: You have no proof of ownership, so you have to buy it back off them over eBay.

Bad Luck: Someone else uses your scissors to cut their hair.
Worse Luck: They have lice.
Bad Karma Overload: They don't have any hair on their head.

Bad Luck: You die the most embarrassing death imaginable. (I'm thinking something involving a sex toy factory and a world leader's summit)
Worse Luck: . . . your death was broadcast live to the whole world, with record-breaking viewing figures.
Bad Karma Overload: . . . after everything else on this list had happened to you earlier in the week.
Karmapocalypse: . . . your birth name is Racistlover McTwinklytits Jr.
 . . . 
Take a guess as to how many of those events have happened to me. I'll give you a clue. It's more than one.
 . . . 
WOOHOO! Over 500 pageviews bitches! Next milestone is 1000!

Wait . . . what the fuck did I write in July? Seriously, I made like, 2 posts that month.
Did I finally get onto an FBI watch list, or what?
 . . . 
That's a wrap for now. Now go watch a movie in bed or something.

Stuff you should look up: Gastric Bypass Edition!

Is it just me, or do the elders of today have no respect for their youths?

 . . . 
  -Video Game 

All of these are taken from OverClocked ReMix, an excellent website that's been going for a number of years that seems to have become a haven for great music-hobbyists to remix or recreate music from their favourite video games. (Warning: Light Techno and copious amounts of instrumental music ahead)

1) Breakbeat Forest - Original: Big Forest Theme from Kirby's Dream Land 2 (1995)

2) Guile's Theme (R.A.H. Mix) - Guile Stage from Street Fighter 2 (1991)

3) Quick Fix - Untitled from Final Doom (1996)

4) The Ballad of Sir Kibbles - Dream And Cold Level from Kirby's Adventure (1993)

5) Neon Glaciers - Stage 1: The Glacial Fortress from Omega Five (2008)

 . . . 
There's also this one, which didn't quite make the list, but is still pretty awesome in my opinion.
Woo! Finally changed the blog template and got videos to embed properly! Props to me!
That's all. Now go and have a Happy Holiday or something . . .

. . . and now for something completely psychotic . . .

#Dashing through the snow,
Get the fuck out of my way,
O'er their limbs we go,
Laughing histerically all the way!#

#Bells on nooses ring,
hanging bastards high,
O, what fun it is to scream

#Oh, jingle hell, jingle hell,
Crush their heads all day!
Oh what fun, 
I have a gun,
As you try to run away, OH!#

#Mortar shells, violence sells,
Murder Rules O-kay!
I'll blow you scum, 
To kingdom come,
with my big. Fuck. Off. Death. Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!#

Merry Xmas! :D

Do Androids Dream Of Falling Off Electric Cliffs?

From now on, whenever I touch my Recycling Bin in Real Life, I want it to say this:

 . . . 
(that last one is obviously for when I'm a millionaire!)

Stuff you should look up: Marginally better than a slap in the face with a dead fish! Guaranteed!

Deck the halls with boughs of holly,          (Why? Holly fuckin' hurts! Get it out of my  
Fa la la la la, la la la la.                                           house. I'm gonna be drunk later!)
Tis the season to be jolly,                (Is Falala meant to be the sound jolly people make?
Fa la la la la, la la la la.                                       Because it sounds more 
                                                            like a retard who stapled his tongue to his lip)

Don we now our gay apparel,                   ( . . . O_o . . . Like . . . rainbows? . . . )
Fa la la, la la la, la la la. 
Troll the ancient Yule tide carol,            ("Trolling" has a completely different meaning 
Fa la la la la, la la la la.                           these days. It's kinda what I'm already doing.)

See the blazing Yule before us,                 (Sounds like we've just committed arson . . .
Fa la la la la, la la la la. 
Strike the harp and join the chorus.           . . . and we're dancing on the ashes.)
Fa la la la la, la la la la. 

Follow me in merry measure,             (Measure of spirits? Woo! Let's get "merry"!)
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
While I tell of Yule tide treasure,      (Stories of greed in a carol. That's humans for ya.)
Fa la la la la, la la la la. 

Fast away the old year passes,                   (Unlike this song. Dear god, how
Fa la la la la, la la la la.                                 many verses are in this thing?) 
Hail the new, ye lads and lasses,                  (Insert Scottish accent here.)
Fa la la la la, la la la la. 

Sing we joyous, all together,            (Not me. My voice was fecked around verse 47)
Fa la la la la, la la la la. 
Heedless of the wind and weather,   (That's another thing, why are we outside singin-
Fa la la la la, la la la la.                              (Shut up already!)

 . . . 
   -My favourites

1) Magatha-May - Frankly this list would not be complete without a shout-out to a friend who first introduced me to the idea of blogging. More personal than facebook, more public than a diary. Plus you can put videos in the posts.

2) Project 366 Things - A Limerick man embarks on an epic quest to perform 366 things that he has never done before within the space of one year and one day. Unfortunately seems to have fallen quite far behind his target, but a fascinating effort nonetheless.

3) Tunasauce - The target. The blog I have neither the epic sense of humour nor the gargantuan gonads to become. I will still try, though!

4) Sexy Videogameland - The blog of accomplished video game journalist Leigh Alexander.

5) Liquids Must Be Presented In A Clear Plastic Bag - Another shout-out to a good friend who really should update more :P . He used to work in an airport, to explain the title.

 . . . 
There's also a site that gives free piano sheet music, which I think is pretty awesome, but I don't think anyone else really gives a crap.
That's it. Go do one of Project 366 Things' posts or something . . .

Proof that there is no God: Getting splashed by a passing car on a rainy day.

Common phrases I never get: 
"I'll be in the last place you look." - Of course it will. If I find it, why the hell would I keep looking?
"More things than you can shake a stick at." - What? Is this some retarded folk saying that somehow survived the test of time to be handed down to modern generations? I challenge you to find something that is so numerous that I somehow fail to make stick-shaking motions in it's direction. Cos it's not as hard as you seem to think it is.
"Smile! It might never happen." - Hey! Guess what! If I'm ticked off, chances are it already has. And your overly-chipper approach to the situation is making it a damn side worse.
"It's a small world!" - No. No it isn't.
 . . .
Somebody get me a hard-hat! I think. . . hold on, wait a tick . . . I think . . . yeah, I'm pretty sure it's . . . I think I'm getting an idea.
Now just bear with me here. Just hold on now, because I've got some pretty weird thought processes going on here. Uh. It's coming. It's on the tip of my frontal lobe. It's. . . I think. . . it's . . . 
 . . . 
What was I talking about again?
 . . . 
Oh, yeah, the idea!
OK, so here it is.
 . . . 
Are you ready?
 . . . 
Are you sure?
 . . . 
You might want to order a new interior designer ahead of time because this will, in all likelihood, blow your mind. It may cause you to spontaneously paint the wall immediately behind you a very disgusting colour.  
 . . . 
 . . .
This is it!
 . . . 
For realsies this time.
 . . . 
Here we go!
 . . 
 . . . 
Crunchy! Nut! Frosties! Crunchy-Nut-Frosties! . . . . . . . . . . . .That is all.
 . . . 
Nope. Wait. False alarm. Wasn't an idea after all. 
Just a brain fart. Never mind.
 . . . 
Wow. Looks like it's time for our new annual cold snap here in Ireland. 
It is sooo cold here. (This is the bit where you say "How cold is it???")
 . . . 
You didn't say it!
 . . . 
Anyways, it's so cold,
 - My clothes have frost bite. I had to amputate my coat with a circular saw after walking into college.
 - I can't even bring myself to take my hands out of my jeans pockets to change the song on my iPod (sitting in my hoodie). I mean, the Kaiser Chiefs? What in god's name was i thinking? Their entire album could have their lyrics printed on the back of a playing card. Its just that repetitive.
 - Yo dawg, that weather's so cold yo girlfriend wuz out sunbathin' in it. Fo' realzies muthafucka!
 . . .
I guess that's a wrap. Go and make something with a rock, paper and some sticky tape. I did. Turns out I suck at making stuff.

Stuff you should look up: Back by unpopular demand!

Life's Great Mysteries #2399: 
Y'know, I actually have real games on this laptop. They came on a disc and everything. They were in-depth, immersive, and brought much time of enjoyment. Why haven't I played them in so long? (Goes back to mind-numbing flash games)
 . . . 
Flash Games
 - my favourites, round 2!

1) Auditorium - Fantastic. An audible feast. An eargasm. I don't know why I left it out of the first list!

2) This Is The Only Level - Another great one from jmtb02.

3) Hedgehog Launch - Launch a hedgehog into space. That's pretty much it. How the heck does it work so well?

4) Crush the Castle - You have a catapult, they have a castle. 2 + 2 = destruction.

5) Shift - A great platformer with an even better game mechanic!
 . . . 
Note to self: Do not, under any circumstances forget the thing with the stuff in the place.

A Journey across Ireland: Don't Stop Believin' in people.

Humanity: A rediscovery.
. . . 
OK, so those of you looking for pissed-off rant can move right the fuck along because for once (or twice, if you count that one time in Greece with the Ouzo and what I thought was sugar) I am actually feeling good. Pretty damn good, in fact. It turns out that little light in the human soul, the glimmer that keeps us all for murdering the person who sniffs repeatedly and loudly in the cinema with no ill-will, the feeling that makes us put a copper in the money box at the till, the flame of human decency, is still with us.
 . . . 
Alas, I have no picture for you this time. Here, have an owl or something.

What? Why the fuck not?
 . . . 
Right, so I'll back the hell up here a bit.
I finished my semester in college two days ago. Top of the god damn world, amiright? You've got to love continuous assessment at a time like this (and despise it for all others). So then I realise I can finally go to a 21st birthday over on the other side of the country. 
 . . . 
I should probably get to the point before this turns into a pointless narrative.
I spent most of the first day at my cousin's rented house, where she made me a full meal and she knew that I was only passing through on my way to the party.
The people at the party were, in a word, amazing people to surround yourself with.
The takeaway after the nightclub had fry-up-breakfast pizza.
I had to sleep the night at the friend's friends house, and they made me feel like family.
The bus I had to get to get back home required exact change. I wasn't to know. I only had a twenty. Quick as a flash, a stranger my age handed my fare to the driver just saying "Don't worry, man, I've been in that situation myself more than once." I almost wished I could have handed in my "sense-of-self-worth-card" there and then.
Several pensioners got on the bus, and were spoiled for choice by the offers of seats, again, from students. (I was standing also, so I hadn't a seat to give before you start giving me accusatory interweb-glares)
On the bus, I met two of the friendly people with whom I had been drinking the night previous. One was going in a similar direction to me, and as such was happy to give directions to a meeting place (see below).
As luck would have it, a friend was also making the trip back across the country, so I only had to take that short bus ride to a meeting point, before getting in a comfy car to be driven back to my bed.
 . . .
To a hungover, unshaven, jobless, naturally acidic bastard like myself, the last 24 hours have been, to put it honestly, making me wonder why the fuck I try so hard to promote the viewpoint that everything has gone to shit.
Maybe it's the recession-era psyche starting to forcibly drag us back to when we saw others as human rather than opposing meatsacks whose sole purpose is to keep us from our Very Very Important Appointment with the X factor.
Maybe it's merely the combination of several factors such as a night out, good banter, no exams, coupled with an extraordinary set of coincidences which seem almost predesigned to make me look like a raging dickwad in a world of upper-class gentlemen.
Or maybe it was the fact that I made absolutely no concrete plans about this little excursion, found myself woefully underprepared, before finding myself handed literally constantly from new friend to new friend without any of them so much as complaining a mite, all of them being amazingly helpful.
Maybe I just can't see what I already have anymore, and I need to actually appreciate the place I'm in in life right now. This moment. Now.
Maybe this is Karma offset from when my PS3 was stolen. In that case, What The Fuck, Karma?!?
Maybe I'm tired. Reeeeeeeeeeally tired.
 . . . 
That's it. I'm knackered. Go tell a friend they're awesome or something.

Stuff you should look up: Mindless self-indulgence edition!

Can someone help me out here? I'm trying to remember the name of a song. You know the one, the one that came out sometime in the last few years and sounds like this:

Oontz oontz oontz oontz oontz oontz oontz oontz oontz oontz oontz oontz. etc.

What's that? All of them?

Well, shit.
 . . . 

   ----Video Game Related
 . . . 

1) Zero Punctuation. A man with a british accent and scathing wit reviews video games each week in his trademark style: quickly.

2) Unskippable. Two guys give their opinions on games based on their opening cutscene.

3) Extra Credits. A thought-provoking look at various aspects of the game medium and how it triumphs, falls, and needs to grow as an industry along with its stakeholders.

4) Red vs. Blue. The first of the videos not found on the, a long running web series starring the cast of the Halo series. Also write and star in their own hilarious shorts.

5) ENN. Aaand we're back to the escapist again. Spoof game news series. From the makers of Unskippable.

 . . . 
Wooo! Look at me bein able to embed videos on my page, bein all technologically wizardish an' shit! Pretty soon I'll remember how change the blog background to something that actually matches the blog title.
 . . . 
(Previews blog post)
 . . . 
Fuck. I'll have to change it to a format that fits videos too. Oh well, baby steps.

Sometimes life just gives you the finger. And not in the sexual way either.

I walk home from the library. It's a pretty long walk but I'm in the mood for it. Then it starts raining. Then the heavens open and I wonder whether water physics has gone a bit mental and wondered if it's supposed to go over or under sea level. Then my phone runs out of battery, robbing me of the ability to call a lift. Several runny-drippy-shouty minutes later I squelch through the front door of my house, and quietly fume to myself for a few minutes. The rain stops. I drop my bag, curse, and go and have a big drink of water from the tap because nothing tastes sweeter than irony.
 . . . 
At the point of writing typing this paragraph, I'm drunk. Thank god for spellcheck. Not too drunk to not remember this though, which makes all the difference. Just at the stage of drunk which enables the stage of saying stupid stuff while the mind is still screaming in the background "why the fuck did you say that?!>?". Why don't I go out to night clubs more often? For a variety of reasons. 
The music is deliberatley too loud to prevent conversation, hence more drinking and more spending monies. The bottles all have that weird spout thing on the end to give the inpression of more drink being poured, hence more drinking and more spending monies. And the women aren't generally attracted to the glasses-type. Whatever. It makes me wonder the effects and general point of alcohol.
Why doo we need this chemical to adjust our point of inhibition? Wudn't the world be a better place if we cud all say what we meaned at all times???
Actually no, scratch that idea. That would be the instant degradation of the human race. We have secrets for a reason. It's a small blessing alcohol allows us to divulge them and yet allow us to keep them. :P
 . . . 
Shit. Did I actually write that? Ah well. Drunken blogging. Yet another thing I have now done. It shall hereafter be referred to as drogging. (dogging? blinking? alcologging?)
 . . . 
I reckon I have now heard of the saddest thing in the world: Single player drinking games. And yes, they exist. How miserable must you be not only to be drinking by yourself until some blood starts to get into your alcohol streams, but to play a game while you do so? That just seems so depressing to my slightly world-weary mind (and the blog title even has the word "cynicism" in it for crissake!) that I can't even begin to gauge it. It's like Robert Mugabe thought he was doing pretty well on the "crazy leader scale of 1 to Hitler" until he opened a book and found out about this guy called Kim Jong Il. I may be cynical, but I'm not so frickin depressed that even a bottle of alcohol won't talk to me when I get hammered, so I'd need to invent a game that gives me that illusion.
Ugh. Not a nice idea. Here, look at this and try and cheer up.
 . . . 
I'm currently watching an Arnold Schwarzenegger movie with the sound off while the Benny Hill theme music plays. It's called Commando. It is. Fucking. Hilarious. The plaot is, as it looks to me, is that Arnie is the worlds most retarded superhero (complete with inability to run and habit of running towards gunfire), who's only power is to make everything he gives a stern, squinting look at immediately turn into a high explosive. This includes walls, people, and petunias.