So, we all know the story of small Timmy Johnson's mom buying a M rated game for him. Theyoung Timmyplays it and sees the violence/nudity/drugs/gore/ect. Later Young Timmy acts out. This leads to a conflict as obviously Timmy isn't responsible for his actions. I mean, he only brutally killed 10 puppies, raped a woman and then slit her throat then proceded to cover his room with her blood and skin. It was that darned M rated game that made him do it. Obviously the mother isn't incompitent for exposing him to the things in the game, it is the game developer who is the issue. How dare they make a quality game that is amazingly fun and is very clearly rated Mature for people 17+! It is their fault for making a game made for adults. Poor Timmy, psychiatric help must be torture?

I love satire. Anyways, this has a point. As of late I have seen many of these (similar sounding) stories everywhere. Finally, the ESRB sticks it to the morons that say they are incompitent. Resently they have started a commercial telling the game rating system and I believe they deserve a high five for it. Not only does it show a caring mother talking about why she checks the rating system but it actually shows a father saying no to his son getting a M game. F*CK YEAH! I mean it may sound like I am over reacting but think of how this will make parents think. Every time they see the M at the bottom of a game case, they will emediately think, "No. This isn't right for my 10 year old son." Hell, they might look deeper into it and find out more about the rating system. Anyways, I'm happy.

Desu

UPDATE:

Slowly, the sniper inhaled and exhaled and steadied his hands lining up a shot that chould potentially give away his position. He stared through the cross hair unblinkingly watching a guard shift his weight and stretch. If a sudden gust of wind, the slightest miscalculation or even the tiniest of movements were to occur the shot could be lost and an alarm would most certainly be raised. He closed his eyes and took one last breath and held it as he readied his shot. As he pulled the trigger he whisper as almost a prayer for the man's soul, "Oink!"

Alternate ending:

"BOOM! HEAD SHOT!"

Alter Alternate ending:

"Mudkips!"

Voted Oddest of Alternate Endings:

"MATT DAMON!"

Why is it that so many women just don't tell you what's wrong?

Hmmm...?

Is it because they want the attention that being silent brings? Maybe they feel cheated because their partner is more focused on the problem than them, but how can someone be focused on a problem and NOT be focused on it at the same time?

WELL?!

It almost seems all woman commit this atrocity at least once in their estrogen dominated lives. It's rare for some, every FREAKING day for others, but at least it varies in intensity.

Can you feel that?

That knawing phatom pain that develops whenever it seems that woman your dealing with just seems impossible and no matter how hard you try, communcation seems like a taking a Mormon missionary mission to the moon.

I'm feeling that right now. Oh yeah...it just utterly raping me. It's not going away either, not from repeatedly bashing my thick skull against my milk-white plaster walls. Nor does the haze of black rum and vodka dimish it in the slightest.

Goddammit! Why didn't she just say something?!

WHY!!!

I mean, she gave all this crap of me neglecting her and crud. What the hell is she talking about? We've talked on the phone every two days, I've freakin counted. I make sure that wherever we go out she has a good time and I push my overwhelmingly selfish needs to the side.

She has the gall to say that we should have done something last weekend; my dad was in the hospital for a recurring stroke and I stayed their for all of Saturday and most of Sunday. I got home at sometime in the afternoon on Sunday, completely drained; both physically and emotionally. How can she really expect me just spring back like a freaking goat or something and just keep on going. I'm not that disgustingly pink bunny that will not die.

So, of course I'm wondering why she really decided to feed all this crap now. I'm going to find out and then we'll see just what kind of diabolical, more than likely morally questionable acts are being commited beneath my all-seeing gaze.

Cats RULE the world.

Not the self-indulging and egotistical world that we humans call our own. Noooo, I mean the real world. That world that no one wants to talk about, let alone come to terms with.

I'm refering of course to the world of sensuality, of the lewd and lascivious. Filled to the brim with those carnal desires that we try so hard to ignore. That red earthy haze suffocating the living and defiling the dead.

Can EVERYONE else feel that?!

I personally think that my feline companion has already planned my life according to her personal decorum and now lives in comfortable security, knowing that whatever actions I take, it was because she wanted them to be taken.

Of course, when I suggested this to my family's physician, the doctor I mean. My friend Shane actually thought a physician was someone you payed to physically assualt you. I'm serious.

But moving on.

When I suggested that my cat was actually a maniacal, megolomaniac that was plotting my life and more than likely had access to nuclear weapons, all I recieved in return was a blank stare and a "I hope my shift ends soon" look.

I hate that look by the way.

Do I look like a **** fruitcake you piece of **** I am NOT a fruitcake!

I'm...IN YOUR EYES!!! Kylie Minogue eat your freaking heart out!

And of course, when I left the doctor's that day I just happened to steal his car keys and drop them in his nurse's purse that she just decided to leave in plain view on the main counter.

Oh...what I would have given to see her face when she discovers her bosses keys in her purse. The akwardness it would bring!

The HORROR!

However, that would not diminish the immense feeling of paranoia that continues to develop whenever I pass by my housecat. It's like she's waiting for that precise moment, when she can just utterly annihilate all that I know and love.

What I need to know is if that is just a normal, hormonal growing side-effect and it will eventually pass or if my cat really just wants to drag me through hell and farther down.

(First blog in a while and more shall follow. OH YEAH!)