from North Providence, RI

  • Activity

    • This man should not be making movies.

      14 years ago


      I'll just give you a snippet from an interview I'm reading on Bloodrayne (the movie), Uwe Boll's latest project:

      "And then we got, as like a vampire crack house leader, we have Meatloaf. He's playing it like in the Rocky Horror Picture Show, a really cool scene with tons of prostitutes in a big crack house. It's a great scene."

      Please, just... Shut up and stop making films.

      Full link here.

      EDIT: Wait, there's more.

      "IGNFF: So no Nazis in the movie?
      BOLL: Not at all. It's more about, we have to tie in that she has to find three Talisman to get a chance to come into the revenge situation, because her father, he raped her mother, so it's a revenge thing.

      What in the hell? How is that man going to run every video game franchise into the ground with a piss-poor movie translation that will only make the mainstream think lesser of us?


      take it

    • Morning Snapshot

      14 years ago


      [Straight from my brain to the keyboard because it's too early]

      It's 7:00 in the morning? What am I doing awake? I took NyQuil last night ferchristssa - wait.


      Now I'm gonna have to adjust my clocks all over again! Wait, I forgot to do that last time, so now all my clocks are correct. That works.

      Fire up WinAmp, sip on some tea... Ah, I see Led Zepplin's back in the random rotation today.

      "I've got a girl, wanna love me so
      Wanna love me strong, sweet jelly roll"

      I also see it's the live rendition. These lyrics are so deep! What the hell is that improv about anyway?

      Man, I feel like having some donuts and a jelly roll.

    • Rant: Boston Market

      14 years ago


      Now that the Red Sox have defied that brush with which history would paint them and finally emerge as winners, I must find another Boston icon to lament. I again feel a need to ramble, and today is a perfect day to discuss The Horror That Is Boston Market.

      For those of you visiting from across the country, Boston Market is a franchise "fast food" restaurant serving "homestyle" meals. (You regulars know when I have to start going heavy on the "quotes" early things are bad.) Perhaps it was the fact that this description already creates an oxymoron or just the amount of green beans in the joint, hell, I don't know exactly, but it seemed bad. All I know is that shortly after walking in, we found ourselves staring down an incomprehensible menu of chicken, chicken, and chicken with attachments. *squints* You know, modular chicken.

      I, being a fan of not having to finish the process of destroying a creature of meat before I can eat it (well, I'm also lazy since I love hot wings), began hunting the menus for boneless chicken while the entire staff stared impatiently at us. I guess there's not much else to do when no one's there. Surely with all their chicken selection they must have stumbled across the concept, either by independent invention or word of mouth, had they not?

      My eye caught one tiny "special" item that wasn't even on the main menu: the BBQ chicken sandwich. Ah, something I can connect with. We were greeted by an old woman at the counter who looked like she had tried to use her lower lip to swallow the rest of her face; all wrinkles and lines angling in. Perhaps attacked by a vacuum? Nevermind. I regained focus and placed my order, sidestepping and holding at attention while my meal was prepared.

      My friend stepped up and foolishly ordered a home meal special.

      "What sides would you like on your order?" she asked while staring. (It's at this point I notice the side items: a gigantic tub of corn bread, something resembling mashed potato, and more tubs of various cheese and green vegetable-like items, none of them enticing.)

      "Uh... Corn bread."

      She became annoyed. "And?"

      ('Come on, you're almost there!' I'm thinking. I could see the pain in his face at all the choices and the realization he's not yet out of the woods.)

      "Uh... More corn bread?"

      You'd think she walked in on him while pissing on her husband's flaming corpse. "More corn bread?! More corn bread??!! What kind of-- fine. Nevermind." (She glared at us and then proceeded to take her break, I imagine to eat more small children... I suppose we upset her that much.)

      What, were they hiding a body under all that corn bread? Is it illegal in the state of Rhode Island to have two sides of corn bread? Since when do you get berated for wanting the least imposing item on a pathetic menu of food?

      Anyway, the meal arrived and my bread was completely cut in half, allowing the BBQ chicken to fall out onto my plate as I picked it up. Cutting the goddamn bread all the way across -- who does that? The food sucked so much that I almost shit out my heart when evacuating my stomach contents later. Actually, I think my heart was trying to escape my body for being in such close proximity to a Boston Market meal. Hah, stupid heart, don't you know you're tethered?


      Shut up.

    • Currently: 7th Inning Stretch

      14 years ago


      Thank God, it's only Scott Stapp singing during the 7th inning stretch. I finally have a good reason to go and use the bathroom.

      ...Isn't this guy completely faded into obscurity yet? Fade faster!

    • Compare and Contrast

      14 years ago


      As some have noticed, I have a bit of a wide range when it comes to musical preferences. Some stuff I enjoy is not exactly what you'd call mainstream, and I definitely enjoy some stuff just for being wacky... But I also don't consider myself one of those Newbury Comics types that gets off on feigning intelligence through following obscure genres, no matter how bad the music actually is.

      Therefore, the lines need to be drawn every once in a while.

      Case in point: I got the new Rammstein album (Reise Reise) and I'm thinking "Hey! Pretty cool!" Rammstein seems to appeal to my sense of simple (if droning) riffs and heavy guitars with a lead singer who's got a cool voice. Nevermind that I don't understand the lyrics - as I said in the forums I have a closet fear of imagining I'm singing/yelling some incomprehensible German babble that would only embarrass me if I knew what it meant.

      So after a few days of blasting track 2 (Mein Teil) up and down the campus, the curiosity gets to me (due to the forum conversation) and I check out the lyrics for it.

      I shit you not, I have spent the past week blasting angry German music across campus about cutting off my own dick and eating it. Smooth. This is what I replaced the latest Dropkick Murphys with in my rotation. Goddamnit.

      Thank you RvB forums for perking my interest in Rammstein's "intelligent" lyrics. I swear to creamy Christ that if I hear someone talk about their latest work being "deep" or filled with "meaning" I'm going to refer them to the cock-eating song before blamming them off the face of the earth.

      So... Time for the Boston band that remade Tessie for the Red Sox. Come back to me, DM, with your Fields of Athenry. I swear I won't leave you for dumb music again, I promise.

    • Always Inviting

      14 years ago


      Trying to describe the feelings surrounding the events of the past few weeks in this part of the country is difficult to describe. For those of you visiting from well-off sporting areas (you know who you are), where teams have bigger payrolls than our lottery system and expect to make it through the postseason yearly, I can refer to this feeling as "Tuesday". You should get that. For those of us who vaguely remember the Celtics having success as a child and that being our beacon of hope for all sports in New England, I will instead call our elation, our newfound glory Sportgasm. Yes, Sportgasm - the sudden change from ten+ years of professional suck to championships and remembering why you root for the home team. (I'm not hinting at what exactly happened when the Sox won the ALCS, but I'm trying to give you a sense here, people. And I had towels just in case.) A Sportgasm is most certainly defined by the feelings incurred from two Superbowl wins out of three years by the Pats and the Sox making it to the World Series over the trampled bodies of the crushed Yanks.

      If any Yankee fans read this, I apologize but I think your team will get over it. They can just start by crying themselves to sleep on their huge beds of money. Anyway, a Sportgasm is more from the joy your team brings, not bashing on who you've beaten like I am tempted to do, so I will refrain further.

      But know that the mood here is serene. Post-coital, if you will. It's finally good to be a New England sports fan.

      In other news, I've added some pictures to the images list from my (small) collection of photography. Let me know if you like any and I may put some more up - I haven't strayed too far in this part of the country but I have some locales/shots I thought were nice.

      My apologies, Joel, for shattering your fragile sense of what is right and wrong with that other pic. I guess you're not a SomethingAwful fan. ;)

    • ATTN: Guys Posting In Girl Profiles

      14 years ago


      This is a public service announcement from the law offices of Kev and Screwoff.

      "Guys" who are constantly doing nothing but posting in women's profiles: Ask yourself, "why am I up at 11:00 at night posting in a girl from Thailand's profile? Am I looking for another friend? Am I honestly hoping that she'll be so taken aback by my blurt of "omg ur hot" in her comments section that she'll jump right on a plane to come feed me grapes in the middle of goddamn Idaho or wherever I'm from?

      Yeah, actually, that would be kind of coo---"

      No, jebus, the answer is no. She will not spontaneously think you're a wonderful man for saying "more pics kthxbye". Your e-penis does not get larger from inquiring about her current dating situation, and it doesn't make you more than 14 years old.

      As a matter of fact, I'll give you little shits a hint about being 14: I wasn't dating. I sure as hell wasn't pretending to date someone from forums somewhere over my dial-up. And when I got older, I didn't win over hearts by asking about a girls' virginity and sending them pictures of dead dogs. It's weird - I just got this feeling that that wouldn't work when dating in real life.

      I also know what you're thinking. "You suck! You talk big because you've already got a girlfriend!" Yes, I snared one of the mythical beasts with a homemade trap made of frozen fish sticks and candy hearts. Wait, actually, I'm getting that wrong - I did it through actual conversation with someone in real life and I wasn't an asshole. It was kind of simple, and I'm looking to get engaged out of the whole deal.

      Oh, one last thing: If I hear any of you fuckers talking about date rape drugs in the forums, you'll be blammed into oblivion and learn something about reality: You may not be able to get the Taiwanese "chix0r" to fly out to your house but know that I'd be happy to come out and strangle your scrawny ass for free.


      PS. I've also got this crazy idea that the friends list should be based off people you respect and have cool interests that sort of correlate with your own - not just because they're "hawt". But I'll save that for another time.

    • Tales from the Battlefield, Volume 1

      14 years ago


      "That's right! Whimper! Whimper and scamper before the might of my unrelenting assault!" I yell at the AI opponents in Warhammer 40k after slamming down my empty and ramming 4 tanks through my own fiery ramp of death. They're sitting right outside my base, oh yes, about 10 squads between my 2 opponents and too afraid to charge through the hail of arty fire I'm raining on my chokepoint.

      I should note that I have been building, rebuilding, reinforcing and resupplying one ramp - my one goddamn ramp left before my tiny base would be cracked open - for the past hour. At some point earlier in the night, my friend had even been in the game. I may have also vaguely told him to drive safe before kicking him out into the cold, unforgiving night. Anyway, troops are jump-jetting past my turrets. Shit is happening. I am woozy. The 40-foot-tall badass with the flaming sword charges my turrets again and my tanks (having fallen back from a withering counterattack) are there to drop him. The infantry charges to support just as the artillery pops over their heads, sending them flying back from the ramp.

      I plunge back in with four upgraded tanks plowing past about 5 squads of infantry laying an incredible amount of fire, ignore them and proceed to lay waste to their building infrastructure while all they can do is follow and put scratches in my paintjob.

      One of the best RTS's I have ever played in terms of immersiveness (even with the drinking and the yelling and the hoo-ha). I <3 you, Warhammer.

    • Evil Genius

      14 years ago


      My name is Kev. These are my stories.

      While I'm on the topic of ranting about things I have no expertise in, let me mention that Evil Genius is sucking the life out of me with its "almost-there-but-not-really" brand of micromanagement.

      I'm a goddamn evil genius... And I'm spending thousands of dollars and manipulating the placement of timecard machines for my henchmen to get to work on time. What the fuck is this? I'm not the shift supervisor at Denny's, I'm the upcoming omnipotent ruler of your world. Shouldn't there be some Evil Middle Manager to take care of that kind of stuff?

      Then again, I'm the guy who would play Dungeon Keeper just to lock my misbehaving goblins in a room and slap them to death. Maybe I'm not the best judge of what makes a game fun.

      *edit hungover

    • 2019 years ago

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