Google Dumps

I’ve got a history of using technology for the basest of purposes.

At age 12, I can remember carrying a small tape recorder to document my own farts, as well as the farts of those around me. Call it degenerate multi-tasking, but I get a certain satisfaction imagining the many advancements technology has afforded mankind, and then using those same advancements to more efficiently dick around. That’s how technology aids civilization. It saves us time and energy, so that we can dedicate more of our lives to beating off and playing Xbox.

From watching a pirated copy of Step Up 2: The Streets on my iPod, to locating my pot dealer with a GPS system, I am one of many members of the tech age who has besmirched the honor of innovation. The latest practice I’ve found in debasing technology is using my laptop on the toilet. It warms my bare thighs, and I can easily watch Youtube footage of volcanoes erupting while undergoing a little “eruption” of my own. Thanks to Gchat, I’ve conversed with nearly all my friends on the shitter. I have produced emoticons and dumps at the same rate. For my salt, an appliance is only as good as the crap taken while using it.

Since the introduction of household portability, inventors must now face the fact that at some point or another, their contribution to the modern world will be used by a body that is concurrently producing dumps. In a brilliant dove-tail of interests, I’ve used Google Maps’ User-Created Maps feature, to catalogue the various places around this fair city that I have taken dumps. I have aptly titled the map “Places in Los Angeles that I have Crapped.” Take a look:

Wii Pole Dancing

Unfortunately it isn’t Princess Peach, Chun-Li, or Dixie Kong riding that pole. It’s you.

There’s a company called Peekaboo that is famous for bringing pole dancing “fun” into homes across America with their “Peekaboo Pole Dancing Kit” and the Carmen Electra endorsed “Electra Pole.” Now, they are shopping around for someone to help them develop a pole dancing game for the Wii.

Think it’s a stupid idea that will never get picked up? Well, Peekaboo already has a game out. It’s a cross between Dance Dance Revolution, Twister, and dry humping they call the “Bedroom Boogie Game”



I hope that thing is dishwasher safe.

The good people at Peekaboo claim that they want to want to “do for Pole dancing what Guitar Hero did for Rock and Roll.” That begs the question: What exactly did Guitar Hero do for Rock and Roll?

Guitar Hero makes people feel like they are part of a rock band. For a fleeting moment, you feel what it’s like to be a rock star- only without the money, hepatitis or meth cravings.

However, the only people who are stars on the stripper pole, are, well, strippers. Is there a demand for a video game that makes you feel like a single mother with daddy issues and broken dreams?

Someone at Peekaboo PR is reading this and saying “Pole Dancing isn’t about Stripping! It’s about fun aerobic exercise!”

Really?

The “pole” part of pole dancing is short for “stripper pole.” It’s not that pole the firemen use because they are too lazy for stairs.

And how exactly is the game supposed to work? Are they including a pole? Are you supposed to hold the Wiimote and the pole same time? Do we strap the wiimote on? What kind of precedent are we setting with a strap-on Wiimote?

Peekaboo also claims the game is for “men and women.” How could I explain to a woman that I got my taut physique from a video game about pole dancing? I’d rather tell her I got buff lifting my collection of Bratz dolls or playing Wii Cheerleading.

I hope no developers take Peekaboo up on their offer. People who want the aerobic benefits of pole dancing should have to get it the old fashioned way: while exposing their tits to strangers.

Peer Pressure Does Not Wane in Adulthood

I always assumed the peer pressure to have the coolest toys on the block was a phenomenon confined to the ages between 4 and 16.

But I'm finding now more than ever that not having a next generation gaming console is excluding me from real-life social events. Quite often I'll hear two of my friends recounting a Halo game they had last night, or how they can't believe they beat those German teenagers 5 to 2 in Super Smash Brothers Melee. Not only can I not participate in their digital games... I don't even know what the fuck they're talking about.

And I don't make a lot of money, so buying one of these fancy "fun machines" isn't really an option for me. Plus I feel like I shouldn't have to miss out on in-person social interaction because my gaming system doesn't output to an HD TV. But the negative effects of my last-gen gaming situation are really starting to build up.

Last week a friend of mine lugged all of his Rock Band instruments over to my apartment and we had a very awkward moment when I told him I don't have an XBox 360. It honestly kind of ruined the night. His tone with me implied he was not only disappointed in the situation, but disappointed in me as a person. I am a GROWN ADULT and not having wireless controllers has stopped people from coming over to my place to hang out.

I want to say this is happening because I have nerdy friends, but the sad part is that deep down I honestly feel uncool. I've never really gotten into playing video games, but to be honest with you I've seriously been considering buying a PS3 with my $600 Government Rebate check.

No, no, you know what? Forget those guys. I'm going to play Crash Bandicoot on PS1, masturbate, and fall asleep in a puddle of my own tears.

My iPhone Makes Me Cum

Yes, I love my iPhone. No, I don’t care that it doesn’t have ‘cut and paste’ or that I can’t “voice dial”. Okay, sure, cut and paste would be nice, but my iPhone does things that no other cutting and pasting smartphone can. My iPhone makes me cum.


Okay, so technically it has only made me cum once. But the fact of the matter is that my iPhone was responsible for bringing me to orgasm. How many people can say that about their lame ass BlackBerry? I don’t care if you have BBM and a tactile keyboard. I’ve got a sex toy in my pocket that plays 2000 of my favorite songs, oh and I can also use it to call my mom.

See my iPhone has iBrate, the 3rd party iPhone application that unleashes the vibrational power of the iPhone and turns into a sleek $399 pocket rocket with data roaming (or $599 if you were an early sucker, I mean adapter, like myself.).

Yes, you have to “hack” your iPhone in order to add iBrate, and yes, Apple says this will void your warranty, but that just makes it all the more dangerous and exciting. The iPhone isn’t just a pocket rocket; it’s a lawless h4x0r love machine!

For almost six months I had iBrate on my iPhone, but I never used it except to show my friends “look what my iPhone can do!” Then, one night, stranded out of state without a Rabbit or a date, I consummated my relationship with my iPhone.

Like many first times with a lover, it was a bit awkward and it took a little longer than normal. The iPhone isn’t really the best shape for a vibrator and its actual vibes aren’t very powerful. But in a jam, it worked and eventually I got off.

So stop hating the iPhone. You’re just mad because your fingers are too fat for the keyboard. Oh, and my iPhone has been places your fat BBMing fingers will never go. Vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv. Ohhhhh yeaaaaaahhhhhh.

How to Really Tell if I'm Human

The uncrackable CAPTCHAs.

So, depending on how close you have your supple finger to the clammy, trembling pulse of the internet nerd community, you may have heard that a couple of months back a group of enterprising young anti-societals finally cracked Gmail's CAPTCHA system. CAPTCHAs are those squiggly little sets of letters and numbers that usually appear whenever you’re doing something like registering an e-mail account or so much as considering logging onto Myspace. They’re supposed to help websites tell the tax-paying, air-breathing human beings from the bloodless, hulking towers of metal and circuits that spew ads for “Ulltra no-risK Roy@l N1gerian C0k pi11s” 24 hours a day without rest or surrender.

The idea is that the nightmare machines shouldn’t be able to read the letters and numbers (because of all the squiggles) while the humans should. But here’s the problem: letters and numbers are a computer’s whole thing. Expecting them not to figure these things out someday is like tying Lindsay Lohan up in a room alone with an oil drum full of blow and expecting her not to eventually gnaw through the ropes.

We don’t win by trying to beat the computers on their own turf. We win by playing the right game: by engaging them on subjects that no computer has any idea about, but any live human being knows almost instinctually. Here’s what I mean:

Click the items that a person might "hit":


Click only on Michael Jackson's self-image:


Click the items that would pump up the average bro:
Click only the "cool" animals:

MAGTA IV

So, you're ok with me picking up a hooker and beating her senseless in the back of my stolen car…as long as I haven’t had a few cocktails first?

Mothers Against Drunk Driving (MADD) want the Entertainment Software Ratings Board (ESRB) to reclassify Grand Theft Auto IV (GTA IV) from a Mature (M) game to an Adults Only (AO) game. Not surprisingly (NS), this is because of drinking and driving, which these mothers are against. Also not surprisingly, I think MADD should STFU.

GTA IV doesn’t make the player drive drunk during the game. In fact it is discouraged. But if you really want to, you can. And having that option is what’s made MADD so, um, angry.

MADD even asked Rockstar games to consider not distributing the game they spent 100 million dollars developing “if not out of responsibility to society then out of respect for the millions of victims/survivors of drunk driving.”

So out of the millions of victims/ survivors of drunk driving, how many of them were killed or injured because of people drinking… in a video game? I suspect the number is about the same as the number of winning NASCAR drivers killed by blue turtle shells.

And if drinking and driving is a good reason to pull the game, what about everything else in the GTA IV? The game is named after a violent felony. It is essentially a crime simulator. Is MADD against drunk driving, but ok with killing cops with an AK-47?

Besides, for a game that features a lot of driving, doing it drunk is annoying as hell.

If I wanted to cruise around a virtual city with sluggish controls and blurry vision, I’d just play the game after a few Zimas.

Driving like crap in a game isn’t going to make kids walk away with the idea that drunk driving is awesome. If anything, it might teach people that being drunk makes it difficult and dangerous to drive. Mothers should be more worried the aspects of the game that are awesome. For example, lately I’ve had the urge to steal a helicopter.

In a country where drunk driving kills something like 13,000 people every year in real life, maybe MADD can work on that first, before getting their panties in a twist about the make-believe stuff.

Robot Hero

First they took our jobs. Now they are taking our leisure time.

Is a hero someone with exceptional courage? Or just a normal man who puts his life at risk for the safety of others?

Defining a hero is difficult, but for many Americans, a hero is someone who plays cover songs with great accuracy. A Guitar Hero.

In a way, Guitar Hero gave us the chance to become heroes in our living room, without braving any dangers besides carpal tunnel syndrome or looking like a douche.

Sure, that Playstation could keep throwing little dots at us, but we knew that with hard work and a little luck, we could transcend our normal selves and start playing on medium.

Now that all might be taken away.

Students at Texas A&M have created a robot that can read the video signals coming from Guitar Hero, and press the correct buttons. It is called the “SlashBot”, and it gets around 95% accuracy on expert.

Thank god emo kids haven’t figured out a way to design their own “SlashBot.”

A similar, more retarded robot called the Guitar Heronoid, gets about 50% accuracy on medium, but looks far more menacing.

Haven’t these engineers seen “War Games?” When computers start playing games for fun, they don’t know when to stop. And the computer in that movie was like an Apple IIe. Imagine the destruction a properly trained PS3 would wreak.

But worst of all, one man has started using these sinister machines against his own kind.

A father, dismayed at his son’s ability to repeatedly beat the crap out of him in Guitar Hero, modified his “guitar” to play the notes for him in real time. The result was the AutoGuitarHero.

It’s damn good at Guitar Hero, but is finishing “Cliffs of Dover” on expert worth teaching your child that cheating is ok?

These infernal machines have already torn one family apart. So please, help stop these video game playing robots. I fear it already too late.

The Gettysburg Address: Diablo Cody Version

Izzabe Lizzincoln was one dope home skillet.

174 America's Next Top Model cycles ago, thanx 2 our rents' rents, America Offline left the beaver DIY-style, a n00b WOW kingdom w/ a Libertarian baby daddy, all OCD over hot fellow man love.

Now we're caught up in this North Coast-South Coast beef, seeing if our peeps can gel w/ ur peeps enuff 2 form Hands Across America, 'til death do us pizzart. As we chill at the scene of all this white-on-white crime, I pour one out 4 our homies who were down from jump street but pulled a JFK so our Grand Old Posse can keep on keepin' on. Word to our founding mothers.

But we can't get all "Jesus Walks" over this turf. Its cherry's been popped, and we can't stitch that vajayjay back up. The OG's, online and off, who had their caps peeled up in this mug have made it a Virgin Mary silhouette on our tortilla of life. Don't get it twisted. This viral audio will soon be Audi, but 2moro, next gen hard drives will back up the struggle for the Futurama. Here and Now That's What I Call Music, it's ABFT that we do the damn thing that got our BFF's pwn'd.

We gotzta get crackheaded aboot this fux0r'd shizznit. In this flame war, it's live free or diehard with a vengeance, so let's Voltron up and Save Private Ryan so our brohams will not have bin fragged in vain. We roll thick under the Notorious G.O.D., and when we push more starz 'n barz out that baby hole, everything will be off the heeswax. After all, all our base are belong to us -- uv the peeps, bi the peeps, 4 the peeps, 'til def do us part. OMGWTFBBQ.

Redundant

Grand Theft Auto Easter Eggs

MadAtoms has gained an exclusive copy of these deleted cutscenes from GTA4.


Grand Theft Auto Easter Egg

Barack Obama: “Stop enjoying your childhood”

Supporters of Barack Obama will often tell you that he’s for: hope, progress, and the elimination of subsidies to the private student loan industry which has repeatedly used unethical business practices. But they rarely tell you what he’s against: fun.

In his speeches Obama will often mention that that America needs to “parent better” and we should “turn off the television set, turn off the videogames.”

Normally, politicians get all snippy when children start playing games that simulate the murder of pedestrians and prostitutes. But when Obama mentions videogames, it is because he associates them with underachievement.

I wish I could say I was surprised, but I’ve known for a long time that Obama was in the pocket of the powerful reading and learning industries.

But with our manufacturing base decimated and our white collar jobs all shipped to India, what industry does Obama think will power the US economy in the future? Trigonometry? Spelling?

No. In our likely post-apocalyptic future, the real growth industry will be sniping. In order to have a robust sniper-based economy, we need to start training kids today. Under Obama’s plan, America economy would get pwned by Chinese n00bs.

But videogames can help kids in more traditional areas of education as well.

For example, did you know that turtles can carry salmonella? Kids are right to learn to stomp them.

And dogs are animals, right? Then what better way to learn about biology than a vigorous game of Nintendogs?

The point is that a vigorous videogame regimen is actually good for children. Why do you think that Japanese and South Korean schools are consistently ranked better than the schools here? The key to achievement isn’t discipline, it’s Xbox.

Besides, those videogames and television shows are handcrafted by the gentle, hardworking residents of Los Angeles. We put in an honest day’s work making the world’s finest first-person shooters and reality dating shows. Next to food and jobs, our popular culture is America’s chief export.

It ain’t science or math, Obama.

Get in my In-Box, You Sluts of Myspace

It might just be me, but I miss Myspace. I miss the anonymity of stalking or being stalked without having your current mood displayed for an entire social networking site to see.

I miss Myspace’s clean and sleek bulletin board, uncluttered with bullshit applications. I’m gonna say right now, I don’t give a rat’s arse about tending your garden, playing Scrabulous, or poking you. In fact, poking kind of hurts, so don’t bother to poke me back.

I’m especially depressed by seeing photo after photo of babies, and pregnant friends. I’m in my twenties for godssake, and I live in Los Angeles, land of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Keep your engagement rings on your fingers, and put your ugly babies up for adoption. You are totally harshing my social networking mojo.

Last night I got totally nostalgic. I got two friend requests from two totally hot sluts: Carisssa and Heidi. Both sent me pleasant messages, imploring me to be their friends. Heidi told me how lonely she is, and wouldn’t it be nice if I could be friends with her and her nudie pictures? Carissa was a little more blatant. She asked me if I like big tits.

Now, I’m a straight female, but let’s be honest here, who doesn’t love big tits? So I did something I haven’t done in weeks. I signed onto Myspace. It’s simple white and blue background put a twinkle in my eye. I noticed my favorite indie band was coming to town, and someone needed to get rid of a kitten. I’ve missed so much!

Then I did something I’ve actually never done. I approved my two new slut friends. I didn’t even have to ask them how we knew each other, or tag which school we both attended. With just one click I instantly had two new hot friends who won’t hold it against me that I’m not giving them gifts, or completing their compatibility tests.

These girls are nice and simple. I can look at their giant tits, and the only garden I have to tend is my own. I miss you Myspace.

Your Computer Thinks You’re Ugly

But it'll still pork you.

There’s a new way to interact with your computer. It involves your dong.

Recently, I came across a few disturbing things on the internet, and neither was the work of Japanese.

First of all, they’ve went and made the Fleshlight USB compatible.

What is a Fleshlight? Imagine a large flashlight, rip out the bulb, reflector, and the batteries, then stick in a silicone cooter. That's a fleshlight, and it creeps me the hell out. Normally, the word "flesh" is followed by "crawl" or "eating bacteria." This device is about as appealing as a toaster with a sexy mouth, or a garbage disposal with a nice ass.

Now this little rubbery hamcave can be hooked up to the computer as an “input device.” You can play “sex games”, where your thrusting translates into simulated movements.

Right now it seems it is only games involving boning, but wait a few weeks and some enterprising fellow will be scoring headshots with his schlong in Call Of Duty 4.

If you’d like to get one, here’s the link. (NSFW!)

At the same time as I learned about this “improved” USB fleshlight, researchers in Israel have invented a computer program that can recognize beauty in women.

Why just women? Maybe because the standards of attractiveness vary so widely for men, or maybe it is because these Israeli scientists are some ugly bastards. There’s no way to know.

The program can see an image of a woman, and based on various factors, can determine her attractiveness.

In a society already overly obsessed with appearance, these scientists are looking for a way to quantify beauty mathematically.

I’m not convinced I want computers knowing how unattractive we are. You think girls have image problems now? Wait till their BlackBerry calls them ugly. And can prove it. With a chart.

The only upside is that when tomorrow’s generation of actresses get past the computer controlled auditioning process, they can do their casting couch work from home, via fleshlight connection.

And that means less driving, and less greenhouse gas emissions. Who needs self-esteem and self-respect when you have a cleaner earth?

Defaced

Hey Facebook. If I wanted to be friends with him, I would have already added him, ok?

Dear Facebook,

I appreciate that you’re always working to improve yourself, but I have a real problem with your recent “application,” these “People I May Know.” It’s great for you, conceptually, but do you ever think about anyone but yourself?! It sucks for me and probably “Him.”

Like how about the fact that grammatically you refer to ‘people’ in the most plural sense of the word. It’s not “Person You May Know” or “Know This Guy?” In reality, you only ever show me one person.

Add to that the fact that the one person just happens to be my ex-boyfriend, who I habitated with for years, introduced to all my friends, and touched parts with on a semi-regular basis, and you might see why I want to punch you in your screen. Yeah, I know him. No, I do not want to be his friend.

Can we please talk about the fact that you’ve neglected to give me any option to make this screen go away other than to be-Face him, which I JUST TOLD you I don’t want to do. You never listen! I’m not harboring resentment towards him, but that doesn’t mean I’m interested in seeing his “status” or tagged photos of his new Tiny Asian Girlfriend on my home page.

You’re so unfair! Are you doing this to him? Are you?!

Will you just be honest for one second? What are you really trying to say? Every. Time. I. Log. In.

Also, why not go for broke. I mean, you have a “Wall” and a “Fun Wall” why not have a “Naked Wall” –- where we can collect all the peoples that we’ve let see us at our most undressed and afterwards had that horrible realization that we actually LET them touch us from the inside (a.k.a. Regrettable Naked Times) and it feels like we’ve just run full speed, head first, into a brick wall—The Naked Wall. If we can make it “public” you’d be doing a community service by helping us avoid double-dipping.

Also also, what else do you know? Is a “People You Will Open Yourself Up To Only To Get Hurt” feature in the works? How about “Good For One Date” or “Don’t Date This Dude” or “People With Baggage Who Never Open Their Proverbial Suitcase” or “Secretly Married?”

Look, our problems are fixable, if you’re willing to change. I’ll keep ignoring those “87 requests” for bullshit things, if you will stop being jealous over him. Seriously, it was a million years and 3,000 miles ago. But if things aren’t gonna work out between us, I still have my space.

xo

-andrea

I Like to Reply to Every Email I Receive With “What?”

Dicking around on the World Wide Web...

Nowhere is instant communication more appreciated than in the sprawling, traffic clogged layout of Los Angeles. The Internet provides those normally confined to cars and desks an efficient fantasy world of prompt exchanges and speedy developments. But I think people get too cocky with this sort of jet-setting, go-getter attitude made possible by the World Wide Web. Which is why every now and again I like to screw around with folks to remind them of the human at the other end of the network.

For instance, I’ve started replying to all emails I get with an immediate message that just says “What?” Like two seconds after I receive the email. “Can you repeat that?” You’d be surprised how a simple, one word questioning of an entire message can really get someone’s gonads. If you’re lucky, they’ll be a smartass right back, and just forward a copy to you of their original message. In this situation, flip the script (java script that is) by doing the exact opposite, and keep up the josh-offs by being hyper-responsive.

People are always thanking each other for the swiftness of their replies, so why not take that timeliness one step further, and provide email senders with a sentence-by-sentence update, informing them of your progress throughout the email. “Just made it through the first sentence. Interesting stuff so far, I’m going to keep reading.” “Wow, bitchin’ vocab…” “That word looks weird spelled out,” and “Hmm, I don’t really agree with you here, but I respect your opinion.” Here and there I’d type, “huh?” and then a few seconds later, “oh…I see.” I also like to express disappointment with the length of their email by writing, “Here comes the last sentence…that’s it?”

The information super highway has bestowed upon man many gifts, from the power to catalog an endless league of pornography, to cleverly deceiving people through the art of rickrolling. Surging along with torrents of infinite data is the ability to dick around in ways our ancestors never imagined. From time to time it’s our duty to do so, to remind everyone of that ghost in the machine.

Spam-a-Lot

Robert Alan Soloway was arrested last summer and charged in a 40-count indictment for using multiple computer networks to send out millions upon millions of junk e-mails. Mad Atoms has exclusively obtained his will, in which he bequeaths various spam programs to his family and loved ones.

To my beloved mother Martha Soloway, you are a beacon of goodness, and I thank you for being the caring soul that you are. I bequeath my spam ads entitled "WANT BIGgER DICKZ OVER NIGHT?"

To my son Jeremy, you are my pride and joy, and it is a tragedy larger than life itself that I will not be around to see you grow into a man. In my stead, I bequeath you my junk emails promising "MILLIONS OF DOLLARS OVER NIGHT and LARGE COCKS!"

To my sister Laura, and her husband Roger, the love you two share inspires me to be a better person, and live every day to its fullest. To you both, I bequeath “Prince oF NiGErIA nEEDs your Help… PLUS Grow a HUMUNGOUS COCK in SeCONDS flat!!!!”

And finally, to me wife Josie, you teach me something new about myself every day, and I promise that next time you nag me about not setting up multiple computer networks in order to send out millions upon millions of junk e-mails, I will listen to your loving words. To you my sweet, I bequeath “BiGGEST PrICKS ArOUND!!!!!---PRICKS ILLEGALLY BIGGEr ThAN yOU CAn HANDLE !!!1!!”

As Always,

Robert Alan Soloway

“Spam King”

Office Rick Roll

You've just been beatrolled.

Team Fortress 2 Makes Me Hate Myself

Why does my computer feel the need to remind me of my worthlessness?

People choose different ways to waste their lives. Some people watch TV. Others pursue an acting “career.” Personally, I tend to surf around the internet, and play video games.

Except for the crushing loneliness, I’ve been generally content with this non-existence until the last few months, when I started playing a game called Team Fortress 2, or as the kids call it, TF2.

The problem is that TF2 makes me hate myself.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s a fun game. Addicting even, which may be the problem. See, when I load up a new map, it shares with me the amount of time I’ve been playing. Not the amount of time since I sat down to play, but the time I’ve spent playing it. Ever.

It’s in a box called “Your Performance Report”, but should be more accurately called “Say goodbye to your 20s.”

According to my performance report, I’ve played about 170 hours, almost 50 hours as the engineer class alone. And that class is lame.

Using what’s left of my math skills, I’ve calculated that 170 hours is over four 40 hour weeks: A whole month of additional full-time employment. At the pay rate of my current job, I could have earned literally hundreds of dollars.

170 hours would be enough time to crank out an entire screenplay. And everyone knows that this town is desperately short on screenplays.

Or I could have maybe dated a girl. 170 hours of relationship could possibly translate into dozens of minutes of sex.

Or I could have maybe exercised a little. I took my shirt off the other day, and I think I'm a B cup now. A full B.

So why do I still play? I bought the game for about fifty bucks, so each hour of amusement has cost me about thirty cents. That’s the best deal in entertainment since back when Grandpa was slipping quarters into the knickers of dancing French street floosies.

Compare that to seeing a movie. 2 hours for $12. $6 an hour? Buying a DVD doesn't compare unless you watch the same movie about 25 times. What about spending $15 on a measly 40 minutes of music? A stripper charges $30 for 3 minute lap dance. No, thanks.

I’m all about value. And I'm not alone. Maybe that's why Halo 3 sunk the box-office the weekend it was released.

Alternatives to Rick Rolling

It’s essential that we find an alternative weird-looking has-been before it is too late.

The internet can be an ugly place. Popup ads. Japanese tentacle porn. And Rick Rolling.

What is Rick Rolling? Well, say you are on the internet, and you see a link that claims to take you to a YouTube video you might be interested in, like a trailer for Resident Evil 5 or an upskirt of Elisabeth Hasselbeck. When you click on the link, you don’t get Hasselbeck, you get this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eBGIQ7ZuuiU (They disabled the inbed on this!)

Rick Rolling has become so popular, even the LA Times recently tracked down Astley to find out what he thinks.

Now, when the mainstream media catches on, that means your internet meme is dying. It’s essential that we find an alternative weird-looking has-been before it is too late. If we have to bring back forgotten pop songs, here are some suggestions:

John Parr - “St. Elmo’s Fire”

This is from an 80’s movie called “St. Elmo’s fire.” I haven’t seen it, but I assume that the movie involves a Catholic red Muppet catching on fire.

• Pros: Best John Parr song. His mullet is somehow also an afro.

• Cons: No flaming Elmo. Still a John Parr song.

• Proposed name: Parrjacking

Londonbeat – “I’ve Been Thinking About You”

This video wastes no time being both annoying and catchy. This was a #1 song in 1991, but is largely forgotten.

• Pros: Neon CG guitars floating through the desert night.

• Cons: Londonbeat not actually thinking about me.

• Proposed name: ‘Beatboxed

Joey Lawrence - “Nothing My Love Can’t Fix”

Joey Lawrence starred on the early 90’s sitcom “Blossom.” In this song, he claimed that there was nothing his love couldn’t fix, but 15 years later, we still have the national debt and AIDS.

• Pros: Good demonstration of Joey’s three great strengths: singing, rapping and taut abs.

• Cons: Rapping and taut abs not seen until later in the video.

• Proposed name: Joey Whoa’d

Hopefully, one of these alternatives will catch on. This is simply not acceptable.

Guitar Hero: A Public Shaming

The Nintendo DS game that threatens the good name of people who love to rock out (at home).

After decades of being associated with tubby children and socially awkward shut-ins, gaming is finally becoming more acceptable. I don’t know if it's because more and more girls are playing, or because of the incredibly high quality of the movies based on games, but there’s been a lot of progress.

I’m worried Guitar Hero: On Tour will destroy all of that.

In the Guitar Hero games, you get to pretend to play guitar in a band that is incredibly popular, even though they seem to play only one cover song a night. You even get to hold a fake guitar while doing it.

It’s a fun concept, but I think Activision may have taken the excitement of faux-rocking a little too far. Here’s the trailer for the upcoming Guitar Hero game for Gameboy DS.



Sure, people look a silly playing regular Guitar Hero, but they look silly in the privacy of their homes. On Tour demands you wave your hand frantically small grey box strapped to your hand while clacking buttons…in public.

And in the trailer, it seems like the kid has to blow on his DS when his “guitar” catches fire. Odds are you’ll have to blow on your DS periodically too, like an alcoholic who just got done ripping the court-ordered breathalyzer out of his car.

It might be unfair, but the general population tends to have a negative view of people flailing around and blowing on electronics. If this game catches on, people might just go back to thinking that all gamers are spastic little weirdos.

Even if you choose to play On Tour in private, it still looks like a good way to get carpal tunnel syndrome. When you finally sprain your wrist playing this game, save yourself some embarrassment and just pretend that you got hurt during a furious session of masturbating.

Then there’s the way they set up the buttons. The vertically arrangement looks more like Accordion Hero to me.

And no one ever, ever got laid for playing the accordion. Not even that guy from Arcade Fire.