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It has recently come to my attention that I will be graduating from Rutgers Nork in about two months. See, I haven't really been keeping up with my progress, since Rachel makes up my schedule every semester, and I just go to the room numbers that she scrawls on my hands and arms. "Go to Hill 128 today, sweetie XOXO... Don't forget to wear pants! Love, Rachel." God, go to class in your underpants twice and all of a sudden you're "John, the boyfriend who doesn't wear pants."
|A job? What am I nuts? What am I nuts? A job?|
Ma, do I look Taco Hut to you? | Monday, 03.24.03
Anyway, now I have to start looking for a job that incorporates the vast pools of knowledge I have gathered during my four year stay at this learning insitution for the GODS. So far, I found this one job that's pretty sweet. Basically, I lounge around the house in oversized pajamas, pick the lint from my belly button, and wait for Rachel to get her Master's Degree. The pay is... not so good, but the benefits are fucking sweet: I get tons of free band-aids and aspirins thanks to Dr. Mom. And for the sleepless nights in which I bang my head against the wall and carve ethnic slurs into my wrists, I'm going to need all the coverage I can get.
Once Rachel gets a high paying job, stage 2 of my job kicks in, and I can just kick back and live off the land, unless that means I have to become a farmer. Fuck that, my wife doesn't make $27 billion a year for me to wake up and play with some filthy udders at 3:00 in the fucking morning. We can afford to buy our own milk, wheat and grain thank you very much.
But hey, maybe I'm going about this the wrong way. Maybe there is a job out there in the real world for me. I worked hard for my "Gentleman's C's" and "Down's Sydrome D's," there has to be some headhunter out there hunting for my greasy head. You there, reading this from your cushy office job, would you like to hire me? I good at rightinG!!!!!11 I have a lovely singing voice, but I can start smoking if you need me to. Also, I shit silver dollars. Hire me, dood!
The weather is getting nicer on the east coast, and that means two things: a) I can finally open my windows, and allow the lingering smell of ass-stank to escape back into nature and b) Screaming children can puncture my eardrums with their combination of playing nicely and hitting each other with rakes. As I wrote in a junk drawer last year at this time, the neighbor's children like to scream. A lot. Their parents must wait for the temperature to reach "non child-freezing" levels before they quickly shove the little ones outside, lock the doors and pray that they forget where they live.
|HEY MISTER WILSON!!!!!!!1111|
the bastard neighbor children | Saturday, 03.22.03
So, needless to say, when the children are released into the wild again, their animal insticts take over. Frantic screaming, running and the devouring of smaller, weaker children quickly becomes the order of the day. It doesn't even sound like they're having fun. Shit, if you're going to scream bloody murder all afternoon, at least get some enjoyment out of it before I start throwing appliances at you from my second story window.
While I'm too lazy to actually go over to the window to see "what in tarnation" is going on out there, I've compiled a list of "what in tarnation" I think is going on out there, and it goes a little something... like this.
Loud Games the Bastard Neighbor Children are Playing
Blindly Run into Traffic. The goal of this game is to close your eyes and blindly run into traffic. The first one to get pinned under a vehicle wins. This would explain why the bastard neighbor children are always screaming "Ow!" and "Get this car off of me for christ's sake!" They're getting really good at Blindly Run into Traffic, I hear the smallest one just made varsity. Actually, I didn't hear anything, because the bastard neighbor children never stop screaming.
Kill a Squirrel by Screaming at It. This game is a little more difficult, because it involves actually catching a squirrel and keeping it in a tupperware bin. Feeding the squirrel razor blades helps, but it is deducted from your final score. Once the furry beats is captured, each child takes a turn yelling at it until it dies. This will take a few months, but if you miss your turn, you're disqualified and have to move back with your real father. Look, I don't make the rules, okay folks?
|Little children from all over the world love a good game of Kill a Squirrel by Screaming at It.|
Push the Dumb Sibling Down the Patio Stairs. The name speaks for itself, really.
Say Hello to Everything. The point of this game is to say "hello" to every noun within your vision. The noun must follow your greeting, or, once again, off to real-dad's coke infested bachelor pad. Here is a typical round of Say Hello to Everything.
Child 1: Hi Mom!
Child 2: Hi fake Dad!
Child 3: Hello dead squirrel!
Child 1: Hi dirt!
Child 2: Hi birds! Hi rusty nail! (2x super combo!!!!11)
Child 3: Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi! (disqualified, no noun).
This game lasts all summer. It may last into fall and winter, but since I usually have my windows closed during off-season, I can't follow their progress.
Now, don't get me wrong, I think kids are super. Full of wonderment and poo, children can always bring a smile to my haggard face. But I really wouldn't mind if the bastard neighbor children stopped coming home from school one day. Or, at the very least, had their mouths and souls surgically removed.
|Spring Break! Whooooo!|
:: panic panic panic panic :: | Tuesday, 03.18.03
With the imminent end of civilization upon us, it's normal to seek spiritual guidance. Face it, your town is going to be leveled within the next few months, so you better start praying to something. But which religion is right for me, the common Jesus-hating blasphemer? I'm looking for a religion that either pays $10 an hour, grants sexy wishes, or whose deity lives inside a 20 lb carp. Wait, what the --
|The Magical Adventures of Delicious Fishy God|
praise the mighty carp | Sunday, 03.16.03
An obscure Jewish sect in New York has been gripped in awe by what it believes to be a mystical visitation by a 20lb carp that was heard shouting in Hebrew, in what many Jews worldwide are hailing as a modern miracle. Many of the 7,000-member Skver sect of Hasidim in New Square, 30 miles north of Manhattan, believe God has revealed himself in fish form.
-- the Observer, bloke.
Wow! Fuck you Presbyterianism, hello Judaism! I went to church for nearly 17 to 18 years, and not once did god present itself as a fish in my presence. Obviously I've been worshipping the wrong god all along.
Luis Nivelo, a Gentile who does not understand Hebrew, was so shocked at the sight of a fish talking in any language that he fell over. He ran into the front of the store screaming: 'It's the Devil! The Devil is here!' Then the shop owner heard it shouting warnings and commands too.
Fuck yeah, it's the devil! Run for your lives! Imagine you're in line to buy some shrimps and scallops, and all of a sudden this carp starts barking at you in Hebrew. I can just picture that little fishy mouth flapping up and down like a retarded fish Muppet as he makes a b-line for the sewer. Now, when I started reading this article, I tried to guess what happened to this fish after it gave its sermon. I figured they would at least throw it back in the ocean to spread the word of god to its slimy brethren. In a perfect world, a savior trapped in a fish's body would be king. King I say! Well, fuck that, we're hungry for the fishy taste of carp...
The animated carp commanded Rosen to pray and study the Torah. Rosen tried to kill the fish but injured himself. It was finally butchered by Nivelo and sold.
Score 1 for hunger, 0 for god. How the fuck do you injure yourself trying to kill a fish? Granted, the fish weighs about as much as your arm, but it can't exactly gut you. But, let's just say for arguments sake that this fish really is flapping his gums about something or other. Wouldn't you pause a few seconds before spilling his guts all over the floor?
me: Let's see, one more fish to gut before I can go home toda --
me: HOLY FUCK! DIE DIE DIE TALKING DEMON FISH!
fish: Wait, don't kill me!
me: Why the fuck not?
fish: Because I'm god!
me: No you're not.
fish: Seriously, I'm god. Hold on, I'll prove it. Your name is John David Lacki, you have 5,082 hairs on your stomach and one time you stole garlic bread from the school cafeteria.
me: Wow! You really are god! Hey Luis Nivelo, check it out! This fish is god!
Luis Nivelo: Not every fish that talks is god, John. [stabs god fish in the face]
me: Ahhhhhhhh! You just killed the god fish! He was my best friend!
Luis Nivelo What can I say, I hate god.
me: Ha ha ha, that's our Luis! He's the clown that makes the dark side fun.
drivethru: Welcome to McDonald's, would you like to order a combo meal?
|Fight Terrorism! Firebomb McDonald's! Never Forget 9/11! Etc!|
I fucking love war. | Wednesday, 03.12.03
me: No, thank you.
drivethru: All right, what would you rather have instead of a delicious combo meal that would save you hundreds of dollars in the longrun?
me: I'd like a large order of Freedom Fries, please.
drivethru: Say that again?
me: I said I'd like a large order of Freedom Fries, and some extra Liberty Ketchup, please. Thank you.
drivethru: Did you say Freedom Fries?
me: Yes ma'am, I did. Oh, right, and I'd also like a chocolate "Down with Communism" shake. To go. Thank you.
drivethru: We don't have Freedom Fries, sir or ma'am. Just French Fries.
me: Well you listen to me, son of a bitch, you take those pinko French Fries and ship them over to France where they belong! Put your manager on this magic voice box machine right now!
manager: What seems to be the problem, sir or ma'am?
me: The problem is that I want some Freedom Fries and a French flag to wipe my face with when I'm done.
manager: Sir, we don't have Freedom Fries, and our French flag / napkin promotion ended last week. I can offer you a wind up Grimace toy instead.
me: Is he French?
manager: Yes sir, I believe so.
me: Can I wipe my face with him?
manager: Well, he's made out of plastic, but I guess--
Yeah, I get it. We hate France because they're godless, terrorist-supporting pinko's, but couldn't we come up with something a little better than "Freedom Fries?" Here are a few names that I whipped up with the folks over in marketing...
Fries Formerly Known as French
I Loves my Gun Fries
Kill the Poor Fries
Speak English or Get Out Fries
Washington was a Slave Owner Fries
I Can't Believe it's not French! Fries
God Hates Fags Fries
OMG NEVER FORGET 9/11 FRIES
Government Sanctioned Grade S Imitation Potato Slabs
UPDATE: Sal from plan 9 checking in with some insight into the French way of life...
Two years ago I spent 4 weeks in Geneva Switzerland. They are all a bunch of "we're too hip to live in Paris" French Fucks! The typical day for a French Bastard is like this....
- Go to work at 9:00 AM.
- Drink 4 cups of coffee and smoke half a pack of cigarettes until 10:30 AM.
- Piss off the Yankee From New York until 11:00 AM.
- Drink 2 more cups of coffee until noon.
- Have a Horse Steak, rare, for lunch, and convince the Yankee from New York that it is good.
- Smoke another half of a pack of cigarettes and drink 4 more cups of coffee until 2:00PM.
- Piss off the Yankee From New York until 4:00 PM.
- Drink more coffee until 4:30 PM, then go home.
Repeat for 4 weeks, don't forget to talk to your co-workers about how you "wish the cocky yankee fuck from New York" would "fly his American ass home."
Today in my advanced journalism class, we talked about writing obituaries, and how fun it is to write about people after they're dead. For instance, I can write something like, "Adolf Hitler had a penis made of hardened cranberry sauce," and there's not a damned thing he could do to me. Now, the thousands of white supremists who visit this site daily, that's another story all together. Anyway, I decided to write my own obituary, because, frankly, I don't trust anyone else to do it for me. Enjoy, won't you?
|Hello. You're going to die, die, die!|
That's on the real, yo. | Monday, 03.10.03
John David Lacki III
September 17, 1981 - March 10, 2003
The world wept this morning as John David Lacki III was torn in half by an oversized novelty pizza cutter before plummeting to his death from a 150 story window. When reached for comment, a spokesperson from Oversized Novelty Pizza Cutter Inc. stated, "We are kind of upset by all this, but we're a little more upset over the fact that we based our entire organization around oversized novelty pizza cutters. Would you like to know how much money we made last year? I'll give you a hint, it's less than a million dollars and rhymes with '13 ducks'."
|Dead - Alive. But mostly just dead.|
Later that day, a spokesperson from the building in which Lacki fell out of declined to comment, by repeatedly saying statements like, "No comment," or "We have no comment at this time," and "Dear god, I'll say whatever you want as long as I can have my daughter back alive."
Before his body was liquified by pavement, Lacki led a full and active life. A true champion in every sense of the word, Lacki was often heard to say, "It's like I told you son, if you put your mind to it, you can accomlish anything." Of course, he was just quoting Crispin Glover as the lovable nerd George McFly from the hit sci-fi comedy Back to the Future. Sadly, most of the things Lacki said were Crispin Glover quotes, even though he's been in like, what, three movies that anyone has ever seen? I mean, the guy's starring in a movie with a bunch of fucking rats, for christ's sake.
When Lacki wasn't working on his Crispin Glover fansite, he adored kicking back on a Sunday afternoon with a bag of mini pretzels, a can of soda, and his television tuned to the Food Network. His beloved girlfriend Rachel would visit him often, attempting to awaken him from his Food Network-induced coma, but to no avail. When contacted, Rachel stated, "I can't believe you're writing an update where you die. You want to know what you are?" She continued, "You're fucking sick, that's what you are." When reached for further comments, the 21 year old smokin' piece of ass responded by sticking her fingers in her ears, chanting "la la la la la i don't hear joo!" while jumping up and down. It was really cute, actually.
So, that's it. John David Lacki III is dead, and ain't nothin' gonna bring him back. Besides Stephen King's Pet Cemetary. And then he'll come back evil and full of dander. Evil stink dander.
And now, thismayhurt.com presents... opening paragraphs to amazing updates that I am too scatterbrained to flesh out. See, I'm going through Final Fantasy X withdrawal right now, I'm trapped in Newark for 10 hours straight, and I don't think I'll have enough gas to make it out of here alive. So excuse me while I attempt to string some sentences together without soiling myself just for the sake of smelling something interesting.
|This is not the greatest update in the world... no.|
This is just a tribute. | Wednesday, 03.05.03
[i n t e r e s t i n g .. s u b t e x t]
I've realized that my updates can be categorized into three major categories:
a) This thing is dumb.
b) This thing is broken.
c) This thing is cool.
Example A is usually filled with lots of cursing and self-hatred. Example B is pure comedic genuis, not from concentrate. Example C is... just for fun... tee-hee tee-hee. Am I this predictable? Survey says -- *BING* Yes.
Again, just to clarify, the following updates are not really updates at all. They're just three opening paragraphs, made to look like one big update. Is anyone out there confused by this? It made sense in my head, I swear.. If you need me to hold your hand through it, just let me know. God knows I have nothing else to do.
Update #1: Newark is Dumb
Contrary to what the brochures would have me believe, Newark is not a fun place to work or play. Or live. And I would imagine that dying here isn't all that, either. Come to think of it, just driving past this rat-infested shithole dampers every god-forsaken day of my miserable life, and I can only hope that one day I'll be struck down by a fucking stray bullet on my way to work. All right, maybe not. But still, I've had it up to here with New Jersey's largest city, and here's why...
Update #2: Der Her, I'm John's Car. I Run on Dreams and Stove Top Stuffing! Hi!!!
My car is giving me subtle hints that it no longer knows what the hell it's doing anymore. Oh sure, it's starting out slowly: the antenna no longer goes down when I put in a CD, the rear defogger button keeps getting stuck, the alarm goes off when I put the key in any of the doors, etc. But I figure by the end of the month, putting the car in reverse will make it flip over onto its back and explode into a jillion pieces. See, my car is like Herbie the Love Bug, except it's not hilarious. I'll expound on my findings within the following paragraphs, and it will be hilarious...
Update #3: Final Fantasy X is a Cool Game.
I've said it before (in fact, I said it in my head as I was just typing it), and I'll say it again: (here I go) Final Fantasy X is a cool game. It's really cool. If you like games that are cool (like I do) then you'd be a damned fool to ignore the greatness that is Final Fantasy X. Some people don't like Final Fantasy X because the main character is a homo-gay, but they are wrong. Final Fantasy X is a cool game, and that's all there is to it. The guy's sword is made out of water for christ's sake. Cool? Oh, yes. I believe it is. Allow me to show you some screenshots of how cool and non-homo-gay Final Fantasy X is.
About a year ago, Nintendo released some screenshots of a new Legend of Zelda game that made pimply-faced nerd geeks salivate all over their ALF t-shirts. Link looked strikingly realistic... well, as realistic as a pointy-eared pixie thing can look. The Nintendo fanboys slept snuggly in their beds, confident that the godfather of video game companies would not ruin their precious Zelda.
|Link, he come to town, come to save, the Princess Zelda.|
Hallelujah! | Tuesday, 03.04.03
A few months later, Nintendo figured out the best way to make thousands of people hate their fucking guts by releasing new screenshots of the upcoming Legend of Zelda game. Apparently, Nintendo felt that making Link look too cool would sully their reputation, so they replaced the once ass-kicking Link with "Hello Kitty" Link. Say hello to "Hello Kitty" Link...
The videogame community collectively cried out, "What the fuck is up with this pussy shit, Nintendo? Are you a bunch of pussies or something?" To which Nintendo replied, "Yes. Yes we are. But wait until you see how expressive our Daffy Duck-looking characters can be! Konichiwa, motherfucker!" Many Gamecubes were dropped from many balconies that day.
As usual, I remained impartial, because if I say a videogame looks stupid, I won't allow myself to purchase it when it comes out. I hate being a hypocrite. For instance, the other day while I was playing Final Fantasy X, something clicked in Rachel's collective unconscience... "
john: Christ, I love Final Fantasy X. It's the greatest and best game in the world.
rachel: Wait a minute, didn't you say that Final Fantasy X was the stupidest fucking thing you had ever seen, and that just looking at the cover art made your eyes yearn for something sharp?
john: Uh... no... that was, uh... some other game. I, uh, always wanted to play Final Fantasy X.
rachel: So, this wasn't the game that you repeatedly stepped on in the mall, screaming that the series had gone down-hill after part 6, with the exception of the snowboarding mini-game in part 7?
john: Well, I thought, uh... I mean... fuck, don't you have an exam to study for or something?
Nope, not going to let that happen again. I'll just stay neutral until the day I place the freakishly small disc into my Gamecube, I said to myself. Anyway, that day came a week ago, and having just beaten The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker, I feel it necessary to spew my feelings out onto the inter-web, where millions of important people will stroke their beards and quietly exclaim, "Genius. John Lacki is a genius."
First off, the graphics. Yes, everything is so fucking cute that you just want to vomit all over yourself. But after a while, you don't really notice. Nintendo backed up their bizarre graphics decision by insisting that the characters are more expressive than ever before. Eh... I guess. I mean, you can tell when Link is pissed or exhausted, but I have enough confidence in Nintendo to assume that they could create an expressive character that didn't have to look like a green Pokemon doll. Playing "Wind Waker" is like playing a very nice looking cartoon, but Link only has four or five different "expressions."
Despite the new look, it still feels like Zelda, borrowing heavily from the N64 classic: Ocarina of Time (and probably Majora's Mask, but I never played it). It has the same targeting system, a similar "hint" system and so on. Fighting in this game is simply amazing; everything is extremely smooth and, well, life-like, I guess. When Link does something exceptionally cool looking (like successfully dodging a huge-ass sword) the game slows down to give you a better view of the action. It's hard to explain, but looks awesome.
|On the left, the Link that made Nintendo fanboys both hard and wet at the same time. And, on the right, the Link that brought shame onto the family.|
Here's my main gripe, though: I've never liked water in video games. Ever since that level in Super Mario Bros., where those white things made swimming impossible, water has been my enemy. Every location in "Wind Waker" is an island. So you're constantly traveling by boat. Which doesn't sound so bad until you factor in wind. The boat cannot move against wind, so if you're traveling north, and all of a sudden need to turn around, you have to stop the boat, use your "wind waker" to throw the wind in the opposite direction, put the sail back up and then turn around. Fucking pain in the ass! Especially towards the end, where you have to make frequent, short trips to 7,000 different places on the world map.
The puzzles are challenging, but the action is not. I died once, during the final battle, and it's not because I'm like the OMGSOTALENTED kid from that Fred Savage movie, The Wizard. It's just very difficult to die. But, again, some of the puzzles where so hard that I needed to consult some gramatically atrocious walkthroughs from GameFAQs.
So, on a scale of 1 - 10, 1 being the often-hated, highly misunderstood "Zelda II" for NES and 10 being the uber-classic "Link to the Past" for SNES, I'd say "Wind Waker" was a 7 or an 8, right around "Ocarina of Time" country. The graphics are that ri-goddamn-diculous, the gameplay is solid, but it could have been a little longer, more challenging, and devoid of gallons and gallons of water.
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