The internet connection that I routinely hack and gain access to in order to supply me with web browsin’ is acting all crazy. Ridiculous, right? I didn’t figure out this person’s password and secretly use their internet for months just so it could up and fail on me, right? Gosh, they’re creeps.
Whatevs. Just know that posting this week will be a little light until I can either fix the problem or find a new network to join.
Rapelay cover and in-game screenshots
Are you fucking kidding me?! I mean, I know video games always have [and always will] push the envelope when it comes to what is considered appropriate. Consider the Grand Theft Autoseries. This is a franchise where killing hookers and car-jacking everyday citizens is encouraged. But I think there is a big difference between GTA and this game.
When it comes to any GTA game, there really isn’t any type of violence or profanity that can’t be seen on any cable station or rated R movie. So, just like a rated R movie, there needs to be some sort of discretion over who is allowed to play video games with questionable content.
It takes a certain level of maturity to deal with situations concerning graphic violence towards another human being. And when it comes to rape, a particularly violent crime that affects the victim physically, mentally and emotionally, that maturity level needs to be higher.
The problem with a game like this is that it taps into [almost global?] condition of mistreatment towards women. The idea that woman are objects or less than men is something that many people do not ever disregard. It’s a cultural problem that hardly needs the help of a video game that plays into the rape fantasies of creeps the world over.
Not only that, but by playing Rapelay, you’re being forced to accept and participate in the twisted beliefs of a serial raper. In GTA, for example, there is a whole story surrounding your actions, causing you to sympathize with the character. And while your actions may be violent and immoral, it comes within the context of a story [I'm reminded of something like The Godfather trilogy]. However, learning to sympathize with a rapist? Very dangerous territory.
Evidently, this game is only sold in Japan, and e-commerce sites, such as Amazon and eBay, are removing the game from their inventory. But we all know this will hardly limit the sale of the product in any country with working wifi.
What are your viewpoints? Is this an issue of free speech, where only those people mature enough should play this game, or is this crossing the line into something unsafe and unacceptable?
Remember when I told you how earlier this week I went bowling? And I fucking OWNED it? Yeah, I could care less about that right now because my body is still screaming in agony.
My bowling hand is still aching so much, I don’t have the range of movement I normally do. My ass cheeks have a dull throb in them. My lower back is stiff and causes a lot of discomfort. I wouldn’t be surprised if I contracted some sort of flesh eating disease in the next few days or something, either. That is how horribly my body responded to a few hours of bowling.
So in an effort to make myself not pathetic, I’m teaming up with my friend Courtney and we’re going to gym it together [hopefully] 3 mornings a week. At 6:30. In the morning.
Not only do I not get up for another hour and a half, but I just know that my body will go freak shit and I’ll need medical attention by noon on gym day 1. I just feel it.
God, I have the constitution of one of those fat babies on the Maury show.
I’m fairly certain that if a designer on Project Runway sent a model out dressed like this, you’d call it something like a “God awful futuristic nightmare fashioned out of pillows and a little girl’s stuffed animal”, then send them home crying. Because it looks like the Cheetos cheetah is trying to insert this woman’s head into his anus.
This isn’t something I often think about, so I was kind of shocked when I came across it yesterday. But apparently there has been quite a bit of discussion started by journalist Annalisa Barbieri over at the Gaurdian.
What should we tell our daughters to call their vaginas?
Throughout the article, different women give suggestions for what they use as a code name for the vadge. And at the end , a helpful list of terms is given to the reader to help them pick out a new, more exciting name for your kid’s vagina. Terms like Snooky, Minnie, Pinky Bo-Bo and Doris. You know, sensical terms.
Intern Katy over at Jezebel took the words right out of my mouth. Vagina. Call it a vagina for fuck sake. I’m pretty sure that vagina has been working pretty smoothly up until now, and I think changing it to Doris will only cause confusion and frustration and awkward moments. Can you imagine porns?
Oh yeah, baby, I’m gonna tear your Pinky Bo-Bo up!
It sounds like this man is threatening to destroy a little girl’s doll. Not sexy.
I just don’t understand the reasoning behind any of this. I grew up calling my penis my ‘privates’, but I think I always knew it was really called a penis. But even that was a shy issue.
From here on out, I’m just going to start referring to penises and vaginas as celebrity names. I think it is classy, funny and worthwhile of my time.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve been typing for quite awhile and need to take Alec Baldwin for a leak.
I mentioned The Hood Internet a few weeks ago in one of my Time Waster Tuesday posts, but here’s a little re-visit for you guys.
I was checking them out today and it seems that the Estelle and Ting Tings mash-up has come to real life fruition. Check it out…
Are you obsessed with The Hood Internet yet? Hmm?
This song came on while bowling last night. I’m not ashamed to tell you that I not only sang along, but danced and sang in people’s faces until they realized the insane importantness of what was happening.
Now you look me in the face while listening to this song and tell me that you didn’t jump up and down like Kris Kross told you to do. Because this shit is 90’s right here.
That’s right. I knew it. You love this shit. You REVEL in it.
If you need me, I’ll be listening to this shit on repeat.
You Get What You GIve by The New Radicals
I need to have a fucking 90’s party. Stat.
Here is the trailer for the movie Jack Milton: Fairy Tale Detective. If you watch for any and all hip-hoppish pigs here, you’ll get a good idea of what I had to dress as and what I had to act like in front of a large group of people.
Yeah, I’m this cool.
So after Flickr was bought out by Yahoo a couple years back, I had to go through the hassle of signing in with a Yahoo! ID and what not. I won’t lie to you when I say that once I got my ID, I immediately forgot about it and haven’t logged in, used, or even seen the pictures I posted up there in like, years.
The other day I randomly found myself wondering if my account still existed or if maybe I could see my pictures. After hunting through emails and trying out a bazillion different username slash password combinations, I finally got into my account.
And oh my god, you guys. I shouldn’t have.
That’s my friend Katelyn and I with Jack Black and Laura Kightlinger. This was taken in the summer of 2003 when we volunteered for the first annual Boston International Film Festival. Take a look at that hot hemp necklace I’m rocking. So pimp.
This was the same festival where I was coerced into wearing a full body pig costume after the screening of Jack Milton: Fairy Tale Detective. The pig was a rapping pig, of course, so I had to take that into consideration when I danced down the aisles in front of a theatre full of people and stood on stage next to the director, producer and so forth.
Needless to say, I’ll be do less hunting for that photo.
