Sassy Frog

Product Review - Apple I-Phone

2007-11-02T04:56:00.000-04:00

This is a true story, although the names have been changed to protect the innocent. Well, except Ryan Billings. If anyone sees that cake hole, knee him in the sternum for me. Thanks.

Much like any blue blooded American (blood is actually red, meaning Americans are stupid), I own an Apple I-Pod. It produces hours of pleasure by allowing me to watch movies in a car, listen to music on a jog, or convert it to a projectile when that fat Chewbacca lady cuts me off on 695. Fuck her. However, I find myself completely dissatisfied with Apple on the whole despite the greatness of the I-Pod and it's extended I-Family.

You see, the I-Pod gave Apple false senses of security by making them believe that it could “do no wrong” with the fan following it obtained using said product. The problem with this logic rests on the shoulders of the consumer. Here we are, asking for a nice product that we don’t want to over pay for and Apple gives us what? The I-Phone. This is (by far) the worst business decision Apple has made as a company since they decided to represent themselves with fruit. Allow me to go down the fact sheet with you so you don’t get yourself all retarded googling shit.

First off, this product has no services to offer the blind members of society, who (believe it or not) use cell phones and have money. So, right off the bat, you’ve alienated an entire group of consumers with just the product design alone- I hope you don’t like money, Apple. But maybe there’s room for hope. Can this product be altered in the future to contain an upgrade making the I-Phone usable to this demographic? Nope. Although the answer doesn’t shock me, it still mildly annoys me that they’re selling products to average people (with all disabilities). You’d think they wouldn’t make this mistake twice, right?

Well, you’d think that. However, next on our list of stupid is the I-Phone price tag. Yes, at its release, this tiny vault of debt hit the shelves at a startling 600 dollars. Six hundred dollars!?! What the fuck!? That’s like a PS3 but smaller and generally less capable of dressing itself! It makes me wonder if Apple, as a member of the electronics and entertainment industry did any market research before launching boxes of I-Phones out of circus cannons? I’ll bet they did. I’ll bet there was a guy named Meriwether who searched yahoo, google, and lolcats for 30 minutes before reporting back to Chief Business Brigadier; Chuck-Paul Waterloo.

CP: “So, how are those online statistics coming?”
M: “Not too bad. Not tooooo bad.”
CP: “Well? What did you learn in the last hour?”
M: “That level 5 of Pac-Man is hard.”
CP: “I meant in regards to the price tag we’re kicking around.”
M: “Oh. That. Yeah, 600 dollars sounds good.”
CP: “There aren’t any other products out now with a 600 dollar retail price that are…say…embarrassing another entertainment company? Are there?”
M: “Nope. I don’t foresee any problems with charging that specific number to the public.”
CP: “No consumers have complained about hefty price tags? On anything?”
M: “God, you’re like my wife. I said NO.”
CP: “Alright. I’m sure this little event won’t cost you your job anytime in the near future.”

So, I was talking with Meriwether at his Royal Farms job the other day when I stopped in for some Ben & Jerry’s. He told me about problem number three with the I-Phone that would, of course, make it to my list for you internet idiots to read.

FACT: 8 gigs is the maximum amount of hard drive space you can purchase for the I-Phone.
FACT: No video playing media device should ever carry less hard drive space then my first computer from 1997.
FACT: The I-Phone designer should get terminal face cancer and die in the trunk of Mandy Patinkin’s Rambler. Take that, Apple fuck.

It’s no surprise that the Apple idea of “fair” in the product market is equivalent to the opinion of a race horse's penis. For that savvy price tag we saw earlier, you get 8 whole gigs! Gee Willickers, Pa! Can I go to the general store for some soda pop later? No you can’t, Jimmy. No you fucking can’t. Your god damned phone costs way too much loot and doesn’t have the storage capacity to even keep a picture of soda pop. So, as movie trailer guy would say: In a world where a terabyte will cost you about 500 dollars, 8 gigabytes will cost you 600.

Apple: Go fuck yourself.

Problem number 4 with this invention is pretty clear cut; everything that surrounds it is a sham. When the public originally purchased the damn thing with the AT&T plan, the whole package cost about a grand. That’s right, 1,000 dollars for a phone that (get this) has a glass touch screen and no screen cover. Yep.

Say, do you remember Chief Business Brigadier Chuck-Paul Waterloo?

CP: “As for that screen protection idea for the phone…are there any other companies that didn’t cover a delicate screen product in the past, and took a lot of shit from the public?”
M: “Not that I recall”
CP: “Think hard, Meriwether. Did any companies make a product that was overpriced and then make a different product that didn’t have screen protection? Were there angry consumers? Think hard.”

So Apple made a product with no cover to protect the obviously valuable screen. I mean, if the screen goes, you are basically anally fisted by an Elvis impersonator wearing a silly hat. It’s not like the screen is consumer replaceable in the event that something could (and will) happen to your expensive toy. So when your screen breaks, you have to mail it to the Apple home office for reparations to be made, however, while awaiting your happy phone, you receive a letter in return.

If you ever want to see your precious I-Phone again, send 50 dollars in unmarked bills to Apple. Do not call the police.

For the sake of not spending all day on this 1,000 dollar cellular phone and all its short comings, let’s get going to the “accessories” part of this discussion. For this section, I have a story to tell that involves me and my Guitar Hero loving friend where we took a trip to the Apple store so he could find a case to protect his precious I-Phone.

First, we went into the store where I realized that everything present was white in color. The floors, the walls, the monitors, the I-pods, the Macs, the headphones, and employees were all white. As I was admiring this curious aesthetic, my friend wandered over to the I-Phone cases so that he could “compare and contrast” the various models, colors and prices. Now, I wasn’t going to make the “holy fuck, that’s too much money” argument since my friend was really into this, but when I saw the prices on those accessories…that’s right, you guessed it.

“Holy fuck, that’s too much money!”

Apparently, the rubber edge case for the phone was 30 dollars! A little case that literally costs no more than 2 cents to make with an injection mold and hot, liquid rubber was priced in store at 30 fucking dollars! Is there an upside to this? FUCKING NO! It didn’t even cover the screen, which is the obvious protection choice here when given your options! Holy fucking tiger urine!! And this story STILL gets worse! As it turned out, they did have some screen protectors. Slim, plastic sheets came in sets of 2 that you place over your screen in hopes of the AVG protection donatable by Kraft Singles plastic wraps. And guess the fuck what?! Another 30 god damn bucks! So, to correctly cover all your protection costs, you need to lay down 60 piss shit dollars (before tax) on a product you already laid 500 down on before you even add the plan consisting of another 500 dollars before you ADD THE GOD DAMNED MONTHLY FEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wcftycfwrubnlkerbppqswerweioopwekweopjgonf34uy89hnjnbn!!!!!!!!!!!!

FUCK!

Who the hell does Apple think we are?! Oh my god, this company hires fucking litters of shackle-cats to create these products before they are inevitably sold to us, the broke-ass public. Apple got too cocky too fast and it bit them in the ass, leaving that little chunk missing from their logo. Eventually, the masses stood up to Apple and said “I swear to God, if you don’t lower this price, I’m going to poke a water buffalo in the anus until I release him into your bedroom.” Apple responded by eventually lowering the prices and agreeing to pay out hojillions of dollars to the foolish community who already purchased the stupid phone. This was a big deal in the online community and headlines made it across the www from Digg to YTMND. This is where our last piece of hilarity is revealed.

Now, you’d imagine that something so controversial would hit the big time on Wikipedia, right? Well, you’d imagine correctly, however, Apple isn’t gonna have all that negativity on their product, even if it means hand editing the article to make sure no truths get by. Try this link for starters.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/I-Phone#Availability.2C_sales.2C_and_pricing

You’ll notice the lack of…well…anything. I’d be willing to bet the price of an I-Phone that Apple had something to do with this. *sigh* There is only so much I can take from a company that should have known better, and though I still stand by the I-Pod as a fantastic product, all of you turd burglars should stay away from the I-Phone.

Especially if you want to retire.

Oh, and for the record, Happy (late) Halloween everyone. I hope your evening was filled with drunken delusions that you ever had a chance with that girl at the party dressed as a “hooker nurse.” Good luck getting over that.

Until the next horrible thing,
-Sassy Frog

Movie Review - Resident Evil

2007-10-24T06:09:00.000-04:00

When you’re a video game nut job like me, you have the ability to make yourself look like a total tool box in front of attractive ladies. Fortunately, I don’t give a shit what those girls think, especially when it comes to Capcom games. You may be asking yourself this question: “What is Capcom?”

Get the fuck out.

For those of you still present, Capcom is like a delicious beef sandwich in a world full of hamburgers. Mega Man is the beefy center, Street Fighter is the crispy bread, Devil May Cry is a wondrous cheese sauce, and Resident Evil is the day old pickle that should never have become a movie, let alone an entire fucking trilogy. You know, it makes me wonder why the gaming community considered this silver screen adaptation such a shining example of pixel-to-cinema power. The plot is nothing like the original game series with absolutely none of the familiar characters we had come to love. No Chris, no Jill, no Claire, no anybody! I think a general rule of thumb for video game movie creation should be- “If you present nothing from the source material, go fuck yourself.” This appears to be a fairly solid structure for script writing. Let us remember Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within. Remember how well that did with no source material?

Reminder: Square/Enix

To conclude my opening remarks, I’d like to say that the original games (despite the worst voice acting ever) were pretty fantastic and caught the attention of a lot of people. The story was kinda cool, the graphics were great at the time, and the action/horror was classic. All this blended together made for a great game series that continues to this day. With that in mind, let’s get to the movie, shall we? (Why does this never get any easier?)

An opening narrative blesses us with the smallest amount of back-story I’ve ever been armed with before warring it out with the rest of a flick. Apparently everyone on earth owns umbrellas; go figure. On another note, does anyone else find it hilarious that the Umbrella back-story is brought to us in resume format? I jerk you not, this excerpt is in the opening text.

Unknown even to its own employees, its massive profits are generated by:
-Military Technology
-Genetic Experimentation
-Viral Weaponry

I can’t wait to see what the elongated special edition has to show us. Hahaha!

Umbrella is highly skilled in the following programs.
-Zombie creation
-Viruses & vaccinations
-Photoshop CS2
-Microsoft Office Suite

So, moving forward, we see a man in a white radiation suit (I’m assuming) trying to win a pink puppy from the claw game at Denny’s. His skills are so lacking that he manages to win a briefcase full of danger in place of the adorably soft keepsake. Better luck next time, rookie. Rage soon takes over and he launches a vile of perfume into the room while orally mimicking explosion sounds to amuse himself. The fiend makes a run for it while the shattered glass container spills its ‘fart smell’ into the air ventilation system. This movie totally embraces “silent but deadly.”

Throughout the building, people start to feel the effects of whoever ate Taco Bell for lunch. All optional security is compromised for the sake of plot, and people are beginning to hate Mondays even more. Before long, the building is all sealed up and begins the lengthy process of murdering everyone who works there. One by one, dick weeds fall to poisonous gasses, elevator shafts and decapitation as the AI system embedded in the security computer watches Frasier reruns. “Oh Niles, when are you and Daphne going to tie the knot?” he says while simultaneously witnessing the slaughter of innocent neir-do-wells.

Moments pass and the scene changes to a woman foolishly trying to take a bath in a shower. Someone should have told her that when you shower, you’re supposed to be standing. You’re also not supposed to be asleep. She’s doing it wrong. Slowly, the woman gets up and makes her way to the adjacent room only to find a note that simply says: “Don’t sleep in the shower. You’re doing it wrong.” Curious about the message origins, the woman tries to copy it but realizes quickly that “ctrl C” doesn’t work in real life. Curses! Foiled again!

Eventually she clothes herself in the new fall color “breast-less crimson,” before trekking the empty hallways of Professor Xavier’s X-mansion. Her situational confusion is aided by an army of birds that explode in terror when she utters “Hello.” Lesson learned: Birds hate informal greetings. Anyhow, the woman’s terror is realized when a strange man rips her from the front porch only to get his ass kicked by a unionized group of Sniffits from the Super Mario Bros movie. After a short argument about the political transition of foreign affairs and their immediate effect on the U.S.’s statues of limitations, the Sniffits unmask to make some kind of point. Actually, the Sniffit in charge turned out to be a black guy, who (ironically) just lead a sizable “breaking and entering” mission. Huh. I’m not touching that one.

At this point, we’ve learned very little other than the house we’re in has an elevator that takes you to the PERFECT fps 1-on-1 storage area. The mental image really came together when the camera showed a team of gunmen entering the room. Classic. Anyways, the power on the indoor train was cut sophisticatedly by unplugging not one, but TWO power cords. Clever. How will anyone ever decipher this mysterious technological enigma? Well, Corporal Vagina managed to figure it out in like 6 seconds, so I can only imagine the shut down was the work of Ed, Edd, and Eddy. The train takes off after the good Corporal “fixes” the “problem” and our team meets one more comrade before next stop: Another fps gold mine.

Ya know what’s weird? The fact that the Umbrella logo is all over everything in this movie. I think the production staff knew that this flick was so little like the game franchise that they needed a visual queue every 3.5 seconds to remind you what you’re watching. “Just in case you forgot, guys, this is a Resident Evil movie.” Oh! With the lack of zombies and recognizable key characters, I thought this was a Matrix movie. Thanks for the heads up, prop studio!

OK, so back to the action!

The nameless female character starts asking too many questions and must be silenced! The smallest of the team dressed in black breaks out a pair of plastic nunchaku baring the “Ninja Turtles” logo and starts whirling them about while screaming “I am Michaelangelo!” He berates the woman over and over while the rest of the team silently watches. Their facial expressions say so much while saying so little. “That’s enough, Walters.” That’s enough, indeed. So her questions are eventually answered accompanied by a 3D rendered, fully animated visual aid. (someone knows their maya) We do learn here that the movie’s geographical backdrop is in fact Raccoon City (or so the black guy says), or more precisely, about 500 feet below Raccoon City. Hmm…I wonder what Raccoon City High School’s mascot is. The main characters are subsequently briefed on bee hives and unicorns before the movie can continue to the “it’s all coming together” point.

So we’re back in the office building that you should recognize from earlier, complete with dead employees. The team takes a moment to fill in some story points before they make the drastic decision to press on. While the group move away from their momentary resting stop, we are vaguely reminded that this is supposed to be a horror movie. I had almost forgotten what with all the Umbrella logos! Personal boredom kicks in at this point and my interest in finishing this movie starts wavering while the rough and tumble protagonists schlep through some kind of server warehouse. The AI computer gets wise to their plans and tries to stop them, using lasers. Lasers? The 1980’s gave us just so much! *ahem* After the untimely death of the Star Fox team, the remaining trio of *nouns* reluctantly press forward to complete the mission that none of them originally wanted to do in the first place.

At this point, the decision has been made to go ahead and shut the “hive” down using a delicate technology called “rub a magnet over it until it erases.” This state-of-the-art process has been making blank VHS tapes since 1983. During the magnet installation process, a little red girl appears and implores reconsideration of the events in progress. There will be no imploring here, young lady. Luckily horror movie assholes are dumber than dirt and as such, death will come swift and unhappily. Next, the humans succeed in shutting down the system and with it; they open all the entrances and locked doorways. Things are lookin’ up, right? Think again, cock jockey.

The remaining soldiers who were unexplainably left behind have encountered our first “zombie” of the film, leading to an action sequence with…(wait for it)…bullets! This regrouping leads to a decision to murder the misunderstood brain eaters as they rally a draft to involuntarily gain the assistance of the dead Umbrella employees. In summary: ZOMBIES EVERYWHERE! SHOOT THEM IN THE FACE! Our heroes dig a narrow escape with rambunctious gun fire, but not before loosing one of the Star Fox team (I think it was Peppy) to a malnourished army of the undead. And I thought Zombies were supposed to be fun. Michael Jackson music videos lie to us. In fact, I’m going to write a letter to my congressman.

Dear Congressman,

Die on a train.

Love,
-Sassy Frog

I would feel incredibly guilty if I had to lie to you; so here’s the news update: The next 10 minutes of this movie are boring. A little more back story is revealed, people wander around, and the acting diminishes to the standards of the first game. Even the action sequences involving the undead dogs are largely uninteresting. Sure, the leading lady kicks a dog in the face (always good times), but all the effects were cheesy and the CG was irrationally awful. This was supposed to be one of those parts that makes you get up and cheer, or whatever you ‘David The Gnome’ enthusiasts do. Instead, the scene just passes by like the morning bus when your alarm goes off for the 9th time. Didn’t get all that? Get a job.

*side note* Umbrella 9 mm? Was that necessary? *end side note*

Like I detailed in the article above, more talking ensues, to which we’re supposed to be entertained. Struggling hard to give a fuck about the plot, I’ve been informed that the remaining team is on a time limit if they want to survive this massacre. As dictated by leading lady number 1, the “Red Queen” is reinstated as commissioner of the WWE. Her first act as commissioner is to answer the questions brought forth by the committee of people with guns, and then to give the Undertaker a shot at the title come Wrestlemania. So, with more explanation under our belts, the protagonists bargain for a way out of the hive via the assistance of the Red Queen and her internet access. After a brief stint on MySpace and a round of g-mail checking, the team heads down and out.

What happens next can be best described as a “family reunion.” Let’s just say Uncle Paul has a few too many again this year, and Cousin Linda is making out with her boyfriend on the couch. Also, Aunt Lisa’s potato salad still sucks. Thank god for my I-pod.

As we drudge on through the escape plan, we’re introduced to the plot twist that will no doubt shake generations of movie viewers. *jerks off* Apparently Spence (the founding member of team dill-hole) was responsible for the entire T-virus release when he angrily failed to obtain that pink stuffed puppy. Memories of eating greasy Denny’s food at 2:30 am traipse about colorfully in his mind while a blank stare accompanies his facial region. The truth comes pouring out and tension raises in the room. Who will be eliminated this week? Stay tuned to find out!!

You know how they say “don’t make a deal with a security computer or you’ll regret it?” Remarkably, that applies here (weird, huh?). It seems that upon his escape attempt, Spence is accidentally eaten by a giant monster (oops). The computer then threatens the remaining 3 and tries to make a deal to save their lives in return for a Toyota Camry. In the heat of the moment, the computer totally flips out and experiences a blue screen moment that shuts down the entire system (not gonna get your god-damned Camry). This may just be me, but didn’t this already happen once before in the movie? I know plot recycling happens all the time with Hollywood these days, but couldn’t they wait for like…another movie?

So the group is now on the train headed back towards the surface when something goes horribly wrong. The cookie monster is in hot pursuit of our heroes and must be stopped, no matter the cost! Really though, for a final boss fight, this was particularly lame. So like, what? She stabs the thing in its tongue before she derails it (see what I did there?) from its death plans? I don’t know about you, but I felt this was very anticlimactic. Anyways, let’s just be glad it was over quickly. Next, the monster dies and 2 of the initial team are still alive and kicking. Eventually the train lets them off at platform 4 & ¾ so they can elevator it up back to the mansion. You know, the mansion where the entire first game took place and for some reason it spends like 7 seconds on camera in this? ...Yeah, I feel it too.

In the final scene, our leading lady awakens from some science induced sleep arrangement to discover that 2 pieces of paper duct taped to your body are highly fashionable. However, she’s going to catch a chill if she doesn’t also wear a snazzy, reasonably priced lab coat. Her spelunking of the outside world continues when she realizes that the lack of people in her path is probably a fair sign that everyone is dead. Yeah, this seems like a good place to end a movie; a mostly naked nameless female carrying a shotgun through a deserted street during a reverse camera zoom. And the worst part is that you know the editor was cutting this final scene thinking to himself: “I am a genius who deserves a raise.”

Oh god, may I never have to watch all of that again. You know what? Sometimes I enjoy writing these reviews. Sometimes a movie is laughably bad to the point where making fun of it is a good time well spent on a Tuesday night. However, on the opposite end of the scale, some movies are just so bad that they’re not worth the paper they’re printed on (the simile still applies). Some movies, like this one, are just painful to watch. So painful, that I have to do the whole review in segments just to keep from being bored. After all, I get easily distracted in a home with multiple feline entities, and practically anything is more entertaining than Resident Evil. This review has taken me more than 9 hours to write because of how fucking terrible the flick was. Respect that, bitches! Anyways, yes, the movie was awful, and no, don’t ever pay to see it. Normally I’d pinch this off by adding a George Michael joke at the end, but because I’m just so agitated, that would just be pretty gay.

Gay? George Michael? Get it?

Sorry. I couldn’t resist.

Until next horrible thing,
-Sassy Frog

Game Review - Guitar Hero (Franchise)

2007-10-17T06:00:00.000-04:00

As a hardcore fan of music and rhythm video games, I got rather excited when I heard the initial rumors surrounding Harmonix’s new project; Guitar Hero. At that point I was a Dance Dance Revolution fanatic with years of experience in Parappa The Rapper, Bust-A-Groove, Amplitude, Frequency, Beatmania, and Pop’n Music. Hell, getting a new music game was just what I needed after backwashing DDRMAX 2 for the past half a year. However, as they say in show business: “Guitar Hero sucked.”

No, seriously, that’s a legitimate Hollywood slogan. Look it up.

Once upon a time, this rip tide music extravaganza released to the general public on November 8th, 2005 for a hefty sum of seventy nine dollars and ninety nine cents. The title received positive reviews from everyone (but me) due to the fact that America is very impressed with anything “shiny.” Thanks to that dull minded thought structure, the game has received cult status within the industry, landing it several different awards issued by several different groups of stinky people living in their parents’ basements. You may be asking yourself what it is I have against this crème brulee of crappy music games. If you think I’m not gonna devote multiple pages of rhetoric to my deep beliefs about this product, then you must be new to the site. Pull up a chair newb, as this may take a while.

The first thing this game does have going for it is a continuous theme. From beginning to end, the whole game’s interface is limited to stupid, garage band, high school face cancer artwork. From the options being written poorly on a scratch piece of paper to the name input placed above the urinal in a disgusting bathroom, this game sticks to its guns. Unfortunately for us, the guns are disappointing and unprofessional looking. The entire GUI feels like it was thrown together in half a work day by a guy who can’t even spell “lol” right. Any game where your first graphical impression comes from a crumpled piece of loose-leaf paper does nothing for the credibility of the Photoshop team (or lack there of). Buck up Harmonix and hire a competent artist, or at least someone who doesn’t crumple the paper before scanning it, unless this is an aesthetic you desired. In that case, I imagine your Gamasutra job posting looked like this:

Harmonix – job openings

Job Title: Fat Asshole

Job Description: Will work closely with the scanner. We named it “Fred.” Sometimes you have to jiggle the cord in back to get “Fred” to work properly.

Must have at least 20 seconds of Photoshop experience.
Must have 3 college degrees for no reason.
Must be able to pin “tail” on “donkey.”
Must be both fat and an asshole (prepare to show portfolio of work)
Must have at least 2 years of experience crumpling paper.

The other thing I immediately noticed about the graphics is the plethora of character doodles all over the place. Little lightning bolts, skulls, dragons, knives, etc decorate the sidelines of the option/set up screens. It’s like half the budget went to a 7th grader with ADD sitting in math class. He doodles a bunch of shit, puts it in his portfolio and BAM! Harmonix has a new “Art Director.”

The obvious follow up to the art is the game's soundtrack. I actually give some solid points to Guitar Hero for laying down some decent covers of classic rock hits. Some are better than others, of course, but on the whole I was kind of impressed with the quality of the covers and attention to detail. They tried very hard to make everyone of each age group happy with the song selection by taking hits from all the classic eras. I can see the point in this, but personally I wish they chose less crap. Either way, this isn’t what bothers me about the music in the game, but I’ll tell you what is; song length.

Apparently Harmonix wasn’t paying attention to this detail when setting up parameters for game play. DDR had it right; cut that shit down to 1:30 or 2 minutes at max. When I play a game where the inherent action focuses on a song, I want it to come, kick ass, then leave. I don’t need my song to hang around like an unemployed uncle who mooches my ho-hos. The best example I can give is the classic hit “Smoke on the Water.” We all know the stupid hook that repeats itself whenever some shackle cat picks up a guitar, so we don’t need to play it FOR SIX MINUTES STRAIGHT!! Good holy caravan of FUCK, what the hell were they thinking?! That song is devastatingly boring no matter how you slice it, so when you loop it for the better half of 10 minutes, the human soul gets shaken away like etch-a-sketch art. Well fuck that. The boys and girls at Harmonix need to google “audio editing” and put the knowledge to good use. Sometimes I’m even convinced they elongate the songs just to fuck with me. I’ll bet some shackle cat in the audio department decided that “Monkey Wrench” just wasn’t long enough and needed another 4 repeats of the chorus at the end.

Audio Director: “Hey guys, I have a great idea!”

Don’t want to be your monkey wrench.
One more indecent accident.
I’d rather leave than suffer this.
I’ll never be your monkey wrench.
Don’t want to be your monkey wrench.
One more indecent accident.
I’d rather leave than suffer this.
I’ll never be your monkey wrench.
Don’t want to be your monkey wrench.
One more indecent accident.
I’d rather leave than suffer this.
I’ll never be your monkey wrench.
Don’t want to be your monkey wrench.
One more indecent accident.
I’d rather leave than suffer this.
I’ll never be your monkey wrench.
Don’t want to be your monkey wrench.
One more indecent accident.
I’d rather leave than suffer this.
I’ll never be your waldo wrench.
Don’t want to be your monkey wrench.
One more indecent accident.
I’d rather leave than suffer this.
I’ll never be your monkey wrench.
Don’t want to be your monkey wrench.
One more indecent accident.
I’d rather leave than suffer this.
I’ll never be your monkey wrench.
Don’t want to be your monkey wrench.
One more indecent accident.
I’d rather leave than suffer this.
I’ll never be your monkey wrench.

Did you find Waldo?

Another thing that tickles my respect for this game (in the taint) is its inability to stick to those guns we mentioned earlier. By the third installment of the five-finger-franchise, the game has done away with the “cover band” idea that themed so well (crumple the paper!) and went ahead and replaced it with the original tracks by the original artists. So, wait. Now you’re not a cover band who plays Aerosmith. Now you just are Aerosmith. That doesn’t make any sense to the consistency of the game since the on-screen avatars are obviously not Steven Tyler and crew. And what’s worse is that the title has a mixture of original tracks, covers of tracks, and the inevitable new music by bands that don’t belong in the series. I suppose it would have been OK to just get all of the original multis at this point and re-theme the game. That would have been an acceptable change of plans, however, the consistency is questionable with the mix now taking whatever professional quality the title had left and flushed it down the toilet (along with your initials). In short, this franchise keeps losing whatever credibility it had to begin with on every sequel installation. Most video games follow what I call “Opposite Day: Hollywood!” We all know that movie sequels generally go farther downhill with every addition, but video games follow an opposite path. Most games get better with the continuation of their franchise. The following examples prove (yet again) that I am undoubtedly correct (get over it).

Mega Man – Mega Man 2
Half Life – Half Life 2
DDR Max – DDR Max 2
Street Fighter – Street Fighter 2
Marvel VS Capcom – Marvel VS Capcom 2
Shaq Fu – Shaq Fu 2
Etc, etc, etc…

You get the point. Anyways, this game series ended up being ironically sold to the one company that could give a shit less about music- MTV. The corporation’s game studio, Neversoft (sounds like a Viagra subsidiary) is now responsible for the completion and shipping of future installments. This can only serve to hurt the game even more (insert metaphor- kick ‘em while they’re down) and over time will probably derail the series into an arcade fishing game. MTV has proven many times that they know nothing about the creation of a solid video game title and will no doubt continue to do so in their very own style with the Guitar Hero series. While some companies might say “quantity over quality,” MTV says “quality is for drunken pussies.”

On another note, the franchise has been dually ruined by the inclusion of internet pop culture within its ranks. Since the original release, we’ve endured tracks from Home Star Runner’s Limozeen, Metalocalypse’s Dethklok, and Boston’s synth pop icons; Freezepop. Don’t get me wrong. I have a very special place in my heart for Freezepop on and off their instruments. Talented people to say the least, but just because they’re good at what they do doesn’t mean they should be filling space in a rock ’n’ roll game. The product itself even makes fun of that during the loading screen.

“I’ll bet you weren’t expecting to see Freezepop in this game!”

You’re right, Guitar Hero. I wasn’t expecting that. I also don’t expect to see a humpback whale enjoying chamomile tea in this game, but I swear to chocolate fuck-cakes, if you show me that, I am driving to Boston to blaring the song “Violent Murder Banana” on my stereo with anger in my heart. What? Of course you haven’t heard of that song. I haven’t written it yet. But when I do……Harmonix, watch the fuck out. As far as the other songs I mentioned go, they just stole more street cred from Harmonix with their inclusion. Them being accounted for only validates that Americans are stupid and enjoy anything shiny. At this point they might as well include “Hamster Dance” and “Chocolate Rain.”

Something else I find rather interesting: *information* The publishing company Red Octane had a legal battle with Konami several years ago due to a copyright hassle involving a 3rd party dance pad. Apparently Red Octane created this dance pad so Konami couldn’t rape your average consumer on the price tag for dance game enjoyment. This seemed like a noble endeavor on behalf of the R.O. boys, until you look at the cold hard facts. Several years later, Red Octane became the publisher for Guitar Hero (duh) and went on their own little legal adventure. Another 3rd party developer made a guitar controller for the game with similar intensions to Red Octane’s dance pad days. However, Red Octane turned a blind eye to justice and took the same road Konami tread just a few years earlier by loading their legal canon with lawsuit ammo. I guess the almighty dollar (and fat bottomed girls) make the (rockin’) world go ‘round.

One last thing I want to mention before I wrap this up and kick it under the table. Game companies and fan boys (my least favorite species) love to claim this game’s originality is what sets it apart from knock-offs just trying to cash in on the “quick dollar.” For starters, you incompetent colostomy bags, Guitar Freaks did this exact same thing roughly 5 years before Harmonix even hit the drawing board. That title was a success in Japan because for its time, it was (in fact) a clever, new idea. People like new. Americans like shiny.

In conclusion, Guitar Hero blows goats and I have proof. While the idea behind the game is fairly solid, the execution was nothing to write home about. Plenty of people will try to prove me wrong, but can’t. Because all of my arguments are backed by science, your retaliations at my article will mean absolutely nothing. Also, you are ugly and your mother is a fat person who has difficulty getting laid because she is fat. I have faith.

The George Michael single.

Which (with any luck) should be in Guitar Hero.

Until next horrible thing,
-Sassy Frog

Movie Review - Hostel

2007-10-07T19:43:00.000-04:00

I started my day by rolling out of bed and attempting to hit the snooze button on my alarm, now blaring “Sexual Healing” by Marvin Gaye. I missed twice in a row and grabbed the nearest object I could find to launch toward the musical sleep killer. The first thing my hands procured turned out to be my cat; Atari. I learned an important lesson about cats today- they don’t fly, but they run fuckin’ fast. I also learned to look before you leap. Actually, look before you catapult mammals through the air. This can be translated into a lesson learned about watching movies too. For example, my friend showed up at my front door and insisted we watch Eli Roth’s “Hostel.” I wasn’t so sure about this plan (follow your heart) but I went along with it anyways assuming that he knew it was a good movie. So I did what any true friend would do; I conned him into ordering lunch in return for my patient sitting through this movie. I hate to move forward here, but free mushroom pizza does all the talking, so here we go.

The first thing to hit the screen is “Quentin Tarantino presents.” There is so much I want to say right now, but maybe I shouldn’t get my panties in a knot just yet. After all, it is the first 4 seconds of the movie. Wait. 4 seconds? Wow, this movie got real shitty real fast. Anyways, everything opens with a guy whistling an indiscernible tune while we pan what appears to be a torture chamber. It could also be a McDonald’s, but I don’t see the Grimace anywhere. I guess it could Mayor McCheese whistling, though. Damn. I suppose I should give up my dream of happy meals and sesame seed buns considering the plot synopsis. Also, I want you assholes to know what kind of shit I go through for this damn blog. I sacrifice IQ points to entertain you jerk-offs with my time. Fuck you all to Alabama. *ahem* moving on…

The scene changes to a bunch of shackle-cat stoners traveling through Amsterdam looking for the meaning of life, who (like other stoners) seem to think can be found in marijuana. They eventually stumble into a night club listening to the worst music I have ever heard since Paul Oakenfold. One of them found a horny girl in the bathroom and is so proud of it that he relies on the highest quality camera phone on earth to document the questionable event. Before long, Huey, Dewey, and Lewie get evicted from the club for being conductors aboard the douche bag express. Now the trio have to forage for a home after prancing the night away if they care to get any rest.

As it turns out, they shack up with some nerd who doesn’t even own a Nintendo. Fucker. Anyways, the 3 are cleverly tricked into visiting THE Hostel by Mr. Notendo with false promises of a Vagina Rodeo. Within micro hours, the Blue Barracudas surpass the Green Monkeys and end up on a train to Slovakia, accompanied by Old Meck. An awkward conversation erupts with the young men that send Edward Saladhands out the door and out of their lives for good. Or does it? Only the ominous musical score can tell, and it’s not talking.

*Contact ominous musical score for secret family recipe*

The metro stops and lets the boys off at an REO Speedwagon concert just as ”Keep On Loving You” starts to play. Instead, it should have dropped them off in Back to the Future 3. That would have been way better, but to my dismay, Eli Roth knows nothing of the wonders encased in Hill Valley – 1885. Anyways, after arriving at the hostel, the boys get to their room just in time to see boobies (hooray!). Also, Oley tries for his best Ace Ventura impression while occupying space in a sauna with a dynamic duo of the D-cup proportion. Following mild embarrassment, and me checking my watch for the 3rd time so far, everything here ends with a night club experience where Oley proves his royalty namesake. Actually, I hope Oley doesn’t die. I kinda like him, but he’s not quite enough to keep my interest in this flick. Something awesome better happen soon or I want my money back. What? Now we’re in an alley?

In the alley, we’re reunited with Lt. Creepylips as he drives away the lost boys with promises of Adult Swim on Cartoon Network. The children flee in terror as they may be subjected to Aqua Teen reruns- the only fate worse then ending up in an Eli Roth movie. Ya know, side note, this movie and its soundtrack are kind of all over the place. I hope this flick has a fucking point somewhere buried deep beneath all this bullshit. If it does, I hope that it gets there really fast because this is just obnoxious. My watch face and I are starting to develop a codependency on each other, and I’ll bet counseling is the only thing that can fix it.

Frog: “No ma’am, just send my bill to 1563 Asshole Way, Analpush California, 90210.”
Dr: “And whom shall I make the bill out to?”
Frog: “Eli Q. Roth (the “Q” is for “stupid.”)”

Currently happening in the movie: After a quiet evening of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows, 2 of our remaining heroes find out that their friend (fuck, it was Oley) is missing. Now it’s a race against the clock to find him and his asiany girlfriend before something terrible happens (imagine that they make a Wuzzles movie- yes, that kind of terrible).

OK, so the clock means shit because of the scene where Whistler’s Uncle has already introduced Oley to H.R. Puff’nMurder. The Asian girlfriend is next on the list of people to cut the toe off of. Apparently the list is long and only the crème de la crème get in without a reservation. The scene fades away to a rolling of the credits. Huh? Is that really the end of the movie? I guess it is. Well I’ll be damned if this wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be. Honestly, I expected a bunch of brutal murders and some terrible dialogue to fill a void left by the unrealistic plot this movie could have contained. Lucky for us it ended here, eh? Haha. I guess 20 minutes of 3 assholes trying to get laid is better than porn where in 40 minutes, 3 assholes do get laid. I concur.

I suppose I can’t get too mad at a movie like this. I mean, it had the potential to suck some serious bull boner, but backed out at the last minute like a 5 year old on the high dive. Also, I can actually understand Eli’s need to reel the audience in with a realistic effect gimmick. Make a torture movie that’s so awful that it actually tortures the person watching it. It’s actually kind of brilliant if you ask me, and apparently you are or you would have redirected to http://www.lolcats.com/ by now. I mean sure, this movie was fuckin’ terrible like a salmon milkshake, but at least it ended quick enough so I could watch “Everybody Loves Robert.” What’s that? Fuck you, I like Robert better, and it’s my blog, so I can write whatever the hell I want. *ahem*

In conclusion, I imagine that the world premiere of this film had Eli walking down the red carpet delivering promises of mediocrity while girls giggled about their hair and clitori (or whatever the plural for clitoris is). In the end, the world keeps spinnin’ and my life is that much worse for viewing something with the Tarrantino name on it. Have I learned my lesson? Probably not. However, I do know deep in my heart that Hostel will never ever, ever have a sequel based on how shitty it is. I have faith…

That Heather Matarazzo would never agree to be in a “Hostel” movie.

Not in Eli Roth.

Until next horrible thing,
-Sassy Frog

Movie Review - Transformers: The Movie

2007-09-29T01:47:00.001-04:00

A long time ago in the 1980’s, entertainment was way more interesting than it is now. Television shows made absolutely no sense, music was electronically zany, and movies were all about action, teenagers, sex, and more teenagers. That decade was so cool in fact, that VH1 single handedly bought the rights to the 1980’s in hopes of boosting channel ratings. Luckily it worked and subsequently, Corey Feldman has a job again.

Go Corey!

One of the things the decade produced was an action figure franchise called “The Transformers.” The toy line featured humanoid robots that (when provoked by a barking dog) would transform into some type of earth-based vehicle that would, in theory hide their alien identity from the masses. Much like any toy line you’ve seen in your life time, the characters in the franchise were broken up into two groups; the evil Decepticons, and the heroic Dallas Cowboys. Before long, the bigwig executives behind the toys decided that the best way to promote their product was via a Saturday morning cartoon show. What bothered me most about this plan of action was that the 30 minute animated program was one giant ass commercial, broken up into 7 minute mini-ass commercial segments by smaller, more obnoxious commercials. So, in summary, it was a commercial broken into smaller commercials by the addition of yet more commercials.

OK…the 1980’s just wanted you to buy shit.

Eventually, the popularity of the cartoon led to a full-length animated movie. So, what could go wrong with a cool toy/cartoon franchise turned big screen flick? I’ll tell you what. I’ll tell you what, good and hard.

The “movie” opens up with a clichéd panning of the universe, eventually focusing on a planet filled with beings that are not the Transformers. Here is the first of many times you will be let down throughout this piece of trash, however, the movie slugs along. After a few moments of the audience getting a good panoramic view of the civilization on planet “beakers ‘n stuff,” we find out that evil is a foot. Actually, evil isn’t so much a foot at this point as it is a death star with a glowing halo. Apparently Vader decided to add a kung-fu grip to the death star that allows for the consumption of planets and their asshole natives. Within seconds, the meal is over and the dreaded empire heads off to planet “bed, bath & beyond” for dessert. With this confusing series of events over, we get the best part of the movie on screen for all one minute of its existence; The theme song (as covered by Lion) and the Transformers logo coming at us in true 1992 Windows screen saver fashion. Then we get to see some credits before being magically whisked away to the Transformers home planet of Cybersex.

Actually, to put it accurately, we just sort of pass by Cybersex on the way to one of the moon bases currently inhabited by the Dallas Cowboys. It’s explained to us by Quarterback Optimus Prime that the Cowboys plan to invade Cybersex and retake their rightful place instead of the Decepticons. Apparently they fought about leaving the seat up or something a long time ago and now (in sitcom hilarity) they’ve painted a big white line down the center of the apartment. “That is your side, and this one’s mine.” The story moves on to inform us that all the Cowboys live on different moons but are still friends and use myspace to keep in touch. Also, Jazz says “shenanigans.” Haha! Awesome. So now the plans are in motion and the Cowboys have everything under control. Or do they?

It turns out the Decepticons had something all along that gave them the upper hand in this battle; a mix tape that is also a pterodactyl. Brilliant! With future technology, pterodactyls can record sound and play it back at high quality using only a 1982 am/fm tape player that Rick Morranis once owned. I love the future. Well, to make this short, the Decepticons have the information and use it to attack our heroes while they’re driving to their aunt’s place in Utah. By the way, this is the scene where all of the bad things about this movie start to coagulate and form an oozy mess of a movie theme. During the raid on the Cowboy’s ship, the background music (to fit the mood) should have been some orchestration of sadness or anger to help show the gravity of such a horrible scene. However, the movie makers decided it best to just go ahead and play some 1980’s up-beat hair metal while we watch our childhood heroes get murdered. WHAT THE FUCK!? I guess it would have been ok to kill off a character or two to get a heavy point across, but the problem is A) there is no point. B) the music was not befitting of the desired mood. And C) is for cookie, and cookie is for me. Seriously, this scene signals the beginning of the end for the rest of this crap nap. I mean, they fuckin’ killed Prowl, Ratchet and Iron Hide; 3 of the most important god damned characters! Fuck, let’s move on. Maybe I’ll forget this happened.

Now, in a shocking turn of events, we get to see a child fishing with Hot Rod; one of the heroic Dallas Cowboys. However, little boy blue is currently depressed because he misses his dad, who’s out playing poker with some of the Cowboys on their side of the apartment. Now, I don’t know about you, but if I was friends with the Transformers and were hanging out and fishing and shit, there is no fuckin’ way I’d be depressed. My dad could get hit by a god damned meteor and I’d be like “Oh well, Hot Rod! Let’s roll-the-fuck-out!” Seriously! Who the hell could sit next to Hot Rod and cry tears of “woah is me?” Child, you need to shut the fuck up. Sorry…so, anyways, our shuttle arrives and the kid decides he wants to meet up with the damn thing when it lands. He fires up his skate board and…what the FUCK is this kid’s problem?!!? Again, he’s next to a Transformer!!! Sweet fucking Christ, you prepubescent asshole! Ask your friend to turn into a car and then GET THE FUCK INSIDE! A fuckin’ skate board?! Oh my god!!

FUCK!

OK, so Hot Rod has a better idea of what should happen and goes to collect the child from a dangerous mishap. The two then piss of uncle Kup (another robot/car thing) before they tragically learn that the Decepticons are piloting the vessel that once carried their friends and family. After a brief bout with 80’s lasers, Hot Rod hits the fuel tank causing both the ship to explode, and the evacuation of the Decepticons from said vessel. A fight obviously breaks out when the 2 factions collide during yet another performance of 1980’s pop-metal. To break this down for you, what ensues now is a large scale war that’s apparently been boiling for years. I could go on and on about bullshit regarding its happenings, but all you need to know is that we get more up-beat 80’s music and the death of Optimus Prime. Yes, we do in fact watch the ultimate hero die and become a hollow lifeless shell of his former self. Transformer movie; You’ve got the touch. You’ve got the power. You’ve also got no idea how to write a screenplay for a children’s movie. You’ll never work in this town again!!

So, moving forward, the Cowboys are obviously distraught over their leader’s death (as are all the kids in theatre) but they must pick up the pieces if they want to get to the end of this movie. And, trust me, they do. The Decepticons retreat after everything is said and done, licking their wounds and watching Rocky sequels. The scene changes to the Decepticons kicking their wounded off the ship on their return home. Apparently there’s too much weight on board and to successfully make it back to Cybersex, they need to drop the fatties. Along with the wounded goes Megatron, the Decepticonian leader who was in charge of the forces invading the Dallas territory. He has been dumped into space to spiral endlessly into the black abyss like the alien and the end of “Alien.” That’ll teach ‘em. You’d think his days are over (twirling through space and all), but the death star eventually finds him and Vader convinces his mom to let him keep ‘em. Darth then proceeds to dress Megatron in a new outfit and arm him with Mr. Spock’s vocal chords in an attempt to prove Star Wars is better than Star Trek. The effort is wasted.

Next we find that the good Dr. Starscream (some asshole from Jersey) is being crowned the king of all hamburgers in the wake of Megatron’s death. But before Mr. Scream can produce any delicious fast food products, the new and improved Megatron (renamed Calsitron) shows up and starts picking fights. Much like the rest of society, Calsitron doesn’t like the new burger king and makes the managerial decision to “let him go.” Out of work and lacking self confidence, Starscream studies to pass the bar in Colorado, thus leaving villainy forever.

Sorta.

Next, the Cowboy moons are being eaten by the death star in Vader’s attempt to bully the universe. More Transformers die and Spike says “shit.” Then the scene changes to earth as the Cowboys rally the troops in fear of the almighty Calsitron. An attack by the Decepticons ensues, leaving the Cowboys no choice but to flee Dallas in hopes of saving their alien race of linebackers from being considered “G-1” only. After the escape, uncle Kup starts telling Viet Nam war stories to a group of dinosaurs resulting in the worst dialogue ever written in an animated movie. Before long, the Decepticons catch up and more evasion techniques are required to keep the last like…7 Cowboys alive. The next plan of action seems to be the destination planet labeled “Trash day.” This movie tries to cover some version of the future the writers had in mind, but no where through the flick do they mention that the blacks have seized control of the music industry. They also didn’t think recycling would be very popular since they have an entire fuckin’ planet based around the lack of concept. Also, who the fuck builds robotic squids and seaweed?

In a change of scene, the remaining Cowboys (minus uncle Kup and Hot Rod) have landed on Trash Day, and in the wake of the crash, give the stupid ass child a big expensive toy to break. I can’t possibly see what’s wrong with this plan. *rolls eyes* Well, problems aside, the troop trek on only to find that the planet is inhabited by more Transformers. I mean, I guess that’s OK news, but anything that’s alien, made of trash, talks like a commercial, and sounds like Eric Idle can’t be good. These are the same reasons I don’t like Eric Idle.

Also, fuck Eric Idle.

The movie really starts to flip back and forth between Hot Rod and the others a lot so just try to stick with me while I sort out the mess. Anyways, Hot Rod and uncle Kup are captured by some alien race of shackle-cats while trying to befriend them. Even the universal greeting “Klatu Virada Nictu” didn’t seem to go over well. Ehh, what do you expect when you quote Bruce Campbell movies to foreigners anyways? They never understand. At this point, shitty one-liners dog the script while we continue to witness the snail’s pace of a picture. Uncle Kup and Hot Rod are taken to a jail cell where they chat it up with a convicted felon named “Big Darryl.” They get some information before having to go on trial for being a poor excuse for an Optimus Prime replacement. Hot Rod, how do you plead?

You plead fuckin’ guilty is what you plead.

Fuck. I can’t go on. I’ve been watching this movie while typing this shit up and it’s so bad that I can’t even finish watching it. So, instead of a play-by-play, I’m just gonna summarize the rest of the film…ya dig? Good.

So the Cowboys escape their judgment with a PBJ and meet back up with the remainder of the team. By now, Ultra Magnus has lost the Matrix trilogy to Calsitron and his gang only to track them down after a brief square dance with the Junkatrons. A final showdown takes place between the factions, resulting in the defeat of the villainous Decepticons. Vader and the death star fall to a rebel invasion and Hot Rod becomes Rodimus Prime; the successor to Optimus and his leadership abilities. All this ends the crappy movie and settles it famously into the hearts of jerk-lava like yourself.

This movie was of a very low quality all around. From the deaths of almost every major character to the horrible soundtrack choice, this movie screams “hit me with a big fuckin’ stick!” I would be happy to oblige but I don’t actually own this. If you have a copy of this movie you don’t mind me hitting with a stick, please mail it to me as soon as you can. It is rather imperative that I beat the living fuck out of this movie at my soonest convenience. Thanks.

In conclusion, I would like to point out that I know as a Transformer fan; you loved this movie. You probably still rant about how great you think it is and how you masturbate to Arcee every night before you go to bed. Well good for you and your shackle-cat lifestyle, but I am a man who speaks nothing but truths about this film; and the truth is: it sucks a kangaroo's nipple. Scratch that. It sucks Captain Kangaroo's nipple. If you want inappropriate music, the death of your heroes, a bad screenplay, poor animation, and to bitch for all eternity about how you hate the 2007 movie, then watch this. You’ll love it. However, if you’re anyone on earth who can possibly think for themselves, don’t put forth the money, effort, or time to watch it. If you want to watch a good Transformers movie then buy the new one on DVD this holiday season. It (despite what you’ll hear on the internet) is way better than the old piece of shit. Buy it. Anyways, get the fuck off my blog and don’t even think about defending this junk pile on the comments section, because you know I’ll hit you so fuckin’ hard that your uncle Kup will have 6 more war stories. You can have faith in that.

And not the George Michael single.

You don’t deserve it.

Until next horrible thing,
-Sassy Frog

Tournament - Finale

2007-09-28T21:05:00.000-04:00

Well here we are, after a week of nail biting; I finally have the long awaited conclusion to the S.F.A.K.T. After the way this thing went over, I’ll probably do one of these again with a series of female icons since I neglected to add women to this rendition. I didn’t really do it on purpose, but the original idea was for me to make this into a series of fist fights. I have a paid subscription to a site that does that but in thongs, so I didn’t need the journals to exacerbate it in text. Anyways, let’s just move on to the final round since we’re so damn close to the finish line.

Round 4: Bracket Finale: Bruce Campbell VS Jon Stewart

Next, on a “very special” Sassy Frog, comedian Jon Stewart will have to realize his worst nightmare when a metaphorical battle with actor Bruce Campbell ensues. Can Jon resist the peer pressure of using cocaine when his troubles get worse? Find out next, on the Sassy Frog.

Now, we all know that when it comes to accurate news programs, there’s only one on TV, and that’s “The Daily Show” on Comedy Central. We also know that when it comes to crappy movies no one would ever pay to watch, there’s only one star to head the casting call, and that’s Bruce Campbell. When we stack up the coolness of these men on top of each other, we get a gay compilation of actor/writer/comedian/cheap cologne. Now all we have to do is dissect this information and blend it together with something I learned from a Chuck Norris fact list, and we’ll have our winner!

Jon Stewart appears weekly on national television to make fun of the republicans and note the deterioration of American society…so basically, it’s a job that does itself. He has gathered a fan base of young Americans who actually learned that it’s best to think for themselves in regards to political issues. Up until his popularity rose, the average citizen would watch anything on FOX, including the Simpsons. Can you believe it? People watched the Simpson. I heard it’s still on the air because of a loophole in a Matt Groening contract subsection. Damn, lawyers can be feisty! Plus, if it goes off the air, Korea’s animation studios will have layoffs that could potentially ruin eastern economics. “Ouch” says round-eye. So now we have a little light at the end of our gloomy government tunnel. I would say “hooray,” but since it’s a government tunnel, I’ll bet there’s a balding middle-aged guy name Hank waiting to collect toll money. It’s ok though. You can probably just pay him in Namco arcade tokens. He won’t be able to tell.

For the record, Bruce Campbell is the coolest and most underappreciated actor of our time. I’d love to see him perform in something that has a higher budget then 6k, but on that same note, I’d also like to own a Pontiac Solstice. Since neither are that likely, I’ll have to go see “My Name Is Bruce” in my ’91 Ford Taurus without the bumper, power steering, windshield wipers, air conditioning, radio, shut up, anti lock brakes, shocks, trunk light, fuck you, and wiper fluid. I think that it’s important for people to respect the underdogs of society (one reason I love Dirty Jobs) and that includes the low level cinema stars of Hollywood…or in this case, Oregon. Bruce is someone I look up to. He’s considerate of his fans and doesn’t try to escape the Evil Dead popularity that made him so famous. He’s willing to sign autographs and even play a quick game of Connect 4 when need be. He’s just the kind of movie star you wish everyone else was. Except the girls; they can stay the same.

With the entire random-ass ranting out of the way, it’s time for me to make a decision and declare one of these two legends of the media a legend of my…uhm…media. *sigh* It’s a writer’s block day. Sorry. So, without further moments of “OMG just say it already,” the winner is…

*cut to commercial*

Coming up next is a brand new episode of Spongebob Squarepants! Squidward will inherit the Krusty Krab and have the opportunity to make a 15 minute episode have half a plot! Unfortunately for him, Spongebob still works the fryers and as such, things are gonna get ZA-NY! I hope Squidward can get through his first day of management without going InSaNe!! Also, Patrick will blah blah blah! All this and more on Spongebob Squarepants, coming up next!

Now back to S.F.A.K.T!

And the winner is Jon Stewart! I think this is a supremely good decision when you consider people you wouldn’t mind running your country. He’s fun, funny, smart, entertaining, charismatic, and again, I wish he was my dad. I can’t think of anything clever to wrap this up with because, let’s face it, the thing is over. Now hurry and get the fuck out before the traffic rush sticks everyone in bumper-to-bumper for the next 45 minutes. Peace.

Until next horrible thing,
-Sassy Frog

Tournament - Round 3

2007-09-28T21:01:00.000-04:00

Damn it all to fuck!! So I’m over my friend’s house and I’m watching his ass play Guitar Hero 2 (quite literally since his ass is at 2 O’clock maybe 4 feet from me). All of a sudden, I’m reminded of how much I hate the song list and how bad I want to sass the game across its ass. Then (like a retarded infant hurtling through the air) it hits me; I need to write the round 3 article for my journals. So, here I sit on the floor of his empty basement with my laptop perched precariously atop my crotch, teetering on the erection I obtained watching A&E’s “The Life & Times of Jodie Foster.” ...The early years, asshole. Anyways, I guess we need to check some facts, some opinions, and my opinions, which basically are facts. All erection jokes aside (for now), let’s get started, shall we?

Round 3: Bracket 1: Bruce Campbell VS Alan Rickman

At this point we’re far enough through the tournament that we shouldn’t have had the first section come down to 2 actors, but in the end this little fact will make for an easier decision. All we have to do is break down the coolness of all the movies they’ve ever done and do a ven diagram (yes, the one that looks like a Mastercard) displaying the appropriate information. Now, something cool I want to point out is that Rickman played the Sheriff of Nottingham in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. Most of you may say “so what,” but if you ever watch the damn thing you’ll notice how awesome a tyrant he makes! Since G.W. Bush is doing such an awful job of being our tyrannical dictator, I nominate Alan Rickman to replace him in ’08. Who’s with me? But wait! Before we go giving the rewards over to Alan so quickly, let us review some Bruce facts! First off, he was in one of my favorite movies of all time; Disney’s “Sky High” as a former superhero turned high school gym coach. Sure, he’s not in the movie much, but he delivers a splendid performance as a believable asshole gym teacher who makes you do things you don’t like. Remember when our gym teachers made us do stuff like climb the rope, play dodge ball or touch their penis when everyone else left the locker room? No? Well, me neither. Now, may I have a moment of “war-vet silence” while I decide the winner? Between these two magnificent spectacles, I nominate Bruce Campbell for the win. Why? 1) Because I said so. 2) Because Bruce is not only cool ON the screen, but he’s also cool ON your lawn talking to your neighbor with the weird rash. I keep hearing how nice he is to people at conventions and sub shops. That is always a bonus on the “cool-O-meter.” Sorry Alan, but don’t be a whiner baby. L

Round 3: Bracket 2: Jon Stewart VS Steven Spielberg

Holy shit, this would be an awesome fist fight to watch on YouTube! I would pay so much Monopoly money to watch this fight! Now you might not think that’s much, but if you assume that your basic monopoly set costs roughly 30 dollars, that means I’d probably wind up spending about…add ‘em together…carry the 2…30 dollars. Anywho, since no fists will be flying in this bout, let’s grade our contestants on their inherited “awesomocity.” First we have Mr. Jon Stewart, the host of the Daily Show on Comedy Central. This is the kind of man I wish was my dad. I want to wake up every morning to his rhythmic pounding on my door, yelling “You better not be masturbating in there! And if you are, don’t get any on the walls! It lowers the property value!” I would then get out of bed with a smile on my face, thinking; Oh, dad! Then at the breakfast table he’d ruffle my hair and say “How’s about we toss the pigskin around the yard today, sport?” Oh, father! He’d secretly know I hate football, but his wily charms are enough to convince me to pretend I’m Ray Lewis for an hour. *sigh* If only Jon Stewart was my dad. However, we shouldn’t disclude the greatness of Steven Spielberg. If memory serves me correctly, he makes movies, and pretty good ones to boot! I think he was behind the Peter Pan sequel “Hook” back in the early nineties starring Robin Williams. Don’t try to argue with me on his one, shackle cats; Hook was fuckin’ awesome! If it weren’t for this flick, I wouldn’t have quit my job at Starbucks by kicking over the tip jar onto a toddler and yelling “BANGARANG!!” I vaguely remember being arrested that day, but that only adds to all the ways Steven has affected my life with his projects. Thank you, Steven! Next is the almighty drum roll where I tally up the votes to see who our winner (and hopefully my dad) is going to be! *long pause* After a few minutes, I’ve come to the conclusion that the winner (and it was damn close) is Jon Stewart- the leader of our political youth! Yes, I understand that Steven has made about 50% of the best movies ever, but movies are only movies, and our future is still ahead for the planning. I think Jon can make a difference; especially if he’s my dad.

Alright guys! That’s gonna wrap up our semi-final round 3 and set us up for the finals which will take place this weekend. Hopefully I’ll remember to write it before last minute which appeared to be my mistake today. Lucky I had my lap top with me, or you shackle cats may have had to wait a whole ‘nother day before learning some useless information. As usual, I’m signing out, and you guys have a good day, but don’t do it near me.

Also, stop fuckin’ e-mailing me some bullshit questions!! I'm not answering them!!

-Sassy Frog

Tournament - Round 2

2007-09-28T20:56:00.000-04:00

Tonight is the long awaited (about 48 hours) second entry of the Sassy Frog Ass-Kickin’ Tournament! Next we’re moving into Round 2 of the battle, pitting the winners of the previous round against each other in another single elimination barn burner. If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll make someone you’re routing for win. To catch you up, the first round eliminated all the douche bags from the competition, and now we’re only left with awesome people. This is gonna make the remaining battles totally hard to write for. Oh well….let’s move on.

Round 2: Bracket 1: Bruce Campbell VS Mike Rowe

Kicking off round 2 is a battle featuring 2 of the greatest men to ever live! True entertainers with sass, comedy and a sultry voice, these 2 contestants make one hell of a match-up. In Bruce’s case, you’ve got the best selling author of “If Chins Could Kill”, and with Mike, you’ve got “Dirty Jobs” and all the good it’s done. Both men are talented and entertaining to no end, and I feel very saddened by the fact that one of them has to lose now. Fuck. Well, if you stuck the 2 side by side and compared personality, heroism and chest hair, I suppose the victory should go to Bruce Campbell. Mike is a manly man who does whatever it takes to get the job done, but has he ever played an elderly Elvis who befriends a black JFK in order to destroy an Egyptian mummy? I think not, so for Bruce, he moves on. Groovy.

Round 2: Bracket 2: Chris Watters VS Alan Rickman

In this bracket we’ll witness an actor who plays a fictional hero go nose-to-nose with an actor who plays mainly fictional villains. Nice match up, huh? Anyways, these 2 have a world of “fuckin’ awesome” at their fingertips, and should strive to use every ounce so that they can make it through to the next round. Now, as you know, Major Victory has the powers of flight and super strength, but what does Alan have? Alan has the ability to talk to God as the Metatron from Kevin Smith’s “Dogma.” Wow, that’s a tough Oreo to crumble. Unfortunately, characters from Kevin Smith movies take a little precedence over reality show winners, and even though Major Victory is a true superhero, Alan Rickman is just a little bit cooler. So, in summary; it’s Mr. Rickman for the win, and we should probably get drunk since I’m all out of ideas.

Round 2: Bracket 3: Lucas Grabeel VS Jon Stewart

One thing to note here is that we have 2 heroes from 2 different age ranges. The 18-30 age group will undoubtedly cheer for Jon Stewart, while the 11-17 group will definitely be on the side of Lucas Grabeel. Who will win? Well, when comparing these 2 show stoppers, we can see that Jon is an intelligent political figure among the masses, where as Lucas can sing and dance. Now, I’m not saying that singing and dancing isn’t awesome (because occasionally it is.) but I tend to put a high level of coolness on the heads of people who get shitty TV shows canned. Now that you understand my logic, I think it’s safe to say that I’m giving the victory over to Jon Stewart and his news parodying smile. Good luck going through to the semi finals, Mr. Stewart, and long live the queen.

Round 2: Bracket 4: Steven Spielberg VS Bill Nye

I have to admit that when I read that title, I felt good inside. Another fantastic match up with 2 highly respected individuals who should both probably run for president. Bill Nye once had level 4 security at NASA ya know, and I think that would give him the best authority to tell our military who to bomb. On the other hand, Steven Spielberg made Jurassic Park 1 & 2, E.T., all 3 Indiana Jones movies, Schindler’s List, The terminal, Saving Private Ryan, etc. I would also like to point out that Bill Nye has taught millions of kids about thousands of sciencey things with a strong passion that has equipped my generation with a certain knowledge of gravity and asphalt. He also equipped his last opponent with a similar knowledge! ;) Anyways, there’s a lot of stacking up to do, and I wish this match was a bit closer to call since I love them both so much, but the facts have spoken. I’m afraid Steven Spielberg will rise above the “science guy” this time around and move forward to the semi-finals! Good luck Steven! Not in the next round, but with Indiana Jones 4! God, I can’t wait!!

Well, with round 2 behind us, you’ll have to check back again in another day or two for the semi-finals. Let’s hope it turns out to be good! Also, fuck you.

-Sassy Frog

Tournament - Round 1

2007-09-28T20:42:00.000-04:00

Everyone I know loves a good fight; especially if it’s between some ass wrangler and a heroic icon of mega-toast proportions. Unfortunately, I won’t be participating as a contestant in this ultra-battle, (maybe next time) but I will be happy to commentate through the details of this finely organized competition. For your information (and mine), this tournament is a bracketed single-elimination style battle to the finish! I’ll be comparing the contestants’ “cool” factor in a perfectly unbiased match up and will determine the winner through a clever amount of “he said, she said” banter. Basically, if a contestant sucks ass you can bet they’re gonna lose. With all of this explained and behind us, let’s start the tournament with round 1!!

Seemed like a good place to begin.

Round 1: Bracket 1: Bruce Campbell VS Rob Zombie

To start this shindig off right, we get a legendary B-movie mega star that brought back the fashion statement “chainsaw for a hand,” to heat up a former death metal icon whose attentions have inexplicably turned to the cinema realm. If you browse over the basics, Bruce stands tall with a famed performance as Ash Williams from the Evil Dead movies. On the other hand, Rob was the front man for the famed rock group “White Zombie” and pumped our ears with as much loud as possible throughout the 90’s. So, which man is the better legend on the “cool-o-meter?” Who the hell do you think?! It’s Bruce Campbell, baby! Yeah! Rob may have a couple bad cult movies under his belt, but Bruce has way more! Good luck in the next round, Bruce!

Round 1: Bracket 2: Quentin Tarantino VS Mike Rowe

The next round entertains us with a villainous cult movie icon that’ll have to stand up to the greatest and dirtiest every-man hero. Quentin has guest directed more than anyone else in Hollywood, and carries a few silver screen fillers to his name; including “Pulp Fiction” and “Jackie Brown.” Mike, however, was a Baltimore Opera professional tenor and the narrator for the Discovery channel hit, “Deadliest Catch.” In a hand-to-hand melee of “bad-ass-ness,” dueling with only their coolness factor at arms, the winner can only (and undeniably) be Mike Rowe. Sure, Quentin Tarantino has a plethora of fans and the facial features of a rodent, but he just got knocked-the-fuck-out by a man whose voice is so sexy that it might even have the power to turn men gay. Rock on, Mike Rowe!

Round 1: Bracket 3: Eli Roth VS Chris Watters

For round 3, we have a movie director whose credits include the 2 Hostels and the horror hit “Cabin Fever.” This director will take on the hilarious finalist from “Who Wants To Be A Superhero?”- Major Victory! Eli’s love for mixing horror and porno has put him in a class most different than other directors. He’s credited as starting the “torture porn” genre, but unfortunately, he’s got to use all those points against a man who walked the length of a backyard with 2 highly trained attack dogs hanging from either arm. And after all that, his hair still looked good! After much deliberation and an inspirational stare-down contest, I find that we’ll award the victory to, of course, Major Victory! What hurt Eli here is the lovability factor. Only teenagers and young adults can find entertainment in his products, but Major Victory captured the hearts of all ages, including the elementary school kids in episode 5! Remember, Eli; be a winner, not a wiener.

Round 1: Bracket 4: Alan Rickman VS Tom Cruise

Here’s a top notch Hollywood actor showdown! In one corner, we have Alan Rickman, a legendary British actor who’s famous for playing Professor Severus Snape in the Harry Potter movies, and the other corner wields Tom Cruise who stole our hearts in Top Gun, and then tried to kill Oprah. When comparing these 2 entertainers, I can’t help but remember how cool and intimidating Hans Gruber was when facing off against John McClane. However, I would also find it impossible to forget Risky Business, back when Tom could still act! Woohoo...this is a tough one, but because I can’t give the award to a dumb-ass, I’m afraid that Alan Rickman takes the taco! Congrats, Alan! By Grabthor’s hammer, you shall move forward!

Round 1: Bracket 5: Lucas Grabeel VS Cal Ripken Jr

Baltimore Orioles fans would recognize Cal’s name if you stuffed your mouth with marbles and tried to sing it with Nirvana. He’s legendary in these here parts, so in order to take him down, I’ve paired him up against one of the sensational teen stars of the Disney movie, High School Musical; Lucas Grabeel. Lucas plays Ryan Evans, the talented fraternal sister of the movie’s antagonist, Sharpay. Cal hits hard with the bat and carried a legendary score of 2,632 straight games played with no sick days. What a guy, but what an asshole. Cal has since become old and now advertises with Comcast in Maryland. He has no hair and is currently overweight. No one likes him anymore. However, Lucas is gonna “bop to the top” with the smash series of HSM movies, and his armada of pre-teen female fans. Now I’m gonna let the cool-o-meter decide which legend is going to move on; the legend on his way out, or the legend on his way in? Welp, no one wants a ball-scratcher to win, so Lucas, congratulations! Cal, don’t get mad because you 2 come from different genres. Afterall; Baseball, dancing; same game.

Round 1: Bracket 6: George W. Bush VS Jon Stewart

When I think of a bad-ass Jew who I wish was my friend more than anyone else, I definitely think of Jon Stewart. On the other hand, when I think of a guy who needs to be fired more than anyone else, I definitely think of George Bush. This isn’t really a battle of wits or a battle of coolness or even a battle of the bulge. This is more like Rocky Balboa VS that guy from college who asked you for free weed once. So, with this metaphor in mind, Jon Stewart kicks the dumbest man alive in the jewels and screams “You’re hurting America!!” If you bet against Jon Stewart in this fight, then collect what’s left of your hard earned dollars and go “all or nothing” against the Harlem Globetrotters. Good luck in the next round, Jon! And now, your moment of Zen.

Round 1: Bracket 7: Steven Spielberg VS Uwe Boll

Even though Uwe is an angry machine of blunt force fisticuffs, he’ll be in a sticky spot with his rectum on the unpleasant end of Steven’s foot. You see, Uwe is famous for not letting critics have opinions, and he childishly challenges the name-sayers in a battle of the knuckley perportion. Although he can punch internet folk in the face, it still doesn’t make up for his lack of directing skill. In fact, the only thing he can direct is “direct to dvd.” Steven, on the other hand, is the man that dreams are made of, and if you watch pretty much any movie he’s ever made, it shows. In this battle, I’ll use “Jaws” as an example of his creativity and memorable composition styles. So, in other words; Jaws VS House of the Dead…and the winner? Steven Spielberg by a nose…a big Jew nose. Congratulations! Sorry Uwe, I guess you’ll need a bigger boat.

Round 1: Bracket 8: Jason Statham VS Bill Nye

Here is an excellent example battle of brains versus brawn. World famous scientist and children’s TV show personality Bill Nye (the science guy) stands toe-to-toe with a pop culture action star who can’t act his way out of a paper bag. He also can’t act his way out of a speeding car chase followed by a massive explosion. Not very versatile if you ask me, but if Bill Nye taught me anything, it’s the mass displacement of a moving object headed at maximum velocity; pulled by gravity. In summary, if Bill Nye kicked Jason Statham off the top of a 45 story building, science will take over. Science has also declared Bill the winner of this match by default of coolness dictated by 8 gallons of Fun Dip. After all, there’s nothing cooler than being smart, and there’s nothing dumber than being in the Italian Job. Science rules!

That’s the end of Round 1, you silly shackle-cats. But you’re going to have to check back in a few days for the tournament finale due to the fact that I haven’t typed up the final couple rounds yet! I seriously have no idea what the hell is gonna happen in the end, so I guess we’ll both have to stay tuned to find out! See you in a few days.

-Sassy Frog

Game Review - Gears Of War

2007-09-28T16:28:00.000-04:00

When I think of all the video games I’ve played in my life, the first things I recall are the classics that lined my shelves in my sassy youth. Mega Man 2, Castlevania, Super Mario Brothers 3, Marble Madness, Monster Party, Street fighter 2, Super Metroid, and Tetris Attack are just a few of the titles that gallop about in the fields of my memories. However, imagine that playing these games is what you do while you sleep cozily in your bed at night. You know, deep in slumber while wonderfully dreaming of gaming classics prancing childishly around your gallant silhouette. Then, angrily, and without warning, a smelly hobo kicks you in the teeth and yells “Gears of War!”

Well fuck that.

I am a true gamer in a community of retarded shackle-cats, who (I will admit) was looking quite forward to playing “Gears” after the plethora of positive reviews. Magazine after magazine hurled some of the tightest compliments about the beauty and handling of this “soon-to-be classic.” Even the good folks at Penny Arcade couldn’t help but use a string of unnecessarily large words to over describe the game’s attributes (they don’t do this on a regular basis). I mean, all across (gotcha!) the internet I’ve seen message boards, review columns (the ‘gotcha’ was about the Penny Arcade thing), and blogs written about the astounding quality (because they do always over complicate explanations) of Gears and its multiplayer online (so basically, it was a joke) skirmishes. So when I purchased a copy for my X-Box 360, I expected nothing short of “amazing” at the exact moment I picked up the controller. I popped the disc in the drive, sat in my recliner (8 feet from my TV), felt the heat off the 360 from my seat (again, 8 feet away), and waited as my expectations sharply rose. After I started a new game, a hobo started lining up his foot to my mouth. I smelled...trouble.

Although (in fairness) that smell could have been the 360 melting my entertainment center.

The game takes place after E-Day, which is startlingly like D-Day, but with a whole different letter of the alphabet. Apparently some hotfoot shenanigans have gone down and your character (we’ll call him Lt. Snuffmuffins) is being broken out of jail by some college chums who were conveniently in the neighborhood ordering hookers. A brief conversation reveals to us that…well, OK, it reveals nothing...but maybe it’s because we’re building tension. Then the scene ends with “shit;” both a direct quote from the character as well as a metaphor for the rest of the game.

When you start to control the actions of Lt. Snuffmuffins, I’m reminded of “Dirty Jobs” from the Discovery Channel. It’s dark, looks smelly, and the running videographer can’t hold the damn camera straight. It’s apparent that in the year 20XX, they don’t sell Nike Shocks at Foot Locker anymore. All this would be ok, but the downside is that I’m not rewarded with an interview led by Mike Rowe in the next scene. As a matter of fact (now that I think about it) the whole game is like a Mike Rowe-less Dirty Jobs.

Well fuck that too.

Now, after roaming around for a minute in the dark, you finally wander into a room that has sunlight, and as such, you can see everything. But can Lt. Snuffmuffins see why kids love Cinnamon Toast Crunch?

“Because it has more color than the setting of “Gears of War?”

No, it’s because kids like to be able to accurately have control of things. A child can control a spoon of CTC better then a future-marine in Gears of War, and that’s not surprising considering how shitty this product plays. Sure, it starts out ok when you’re just bumbling around, but eventually they want you to kill something. This is expected considering the title is “Gears of War” and not “Gears of Quiet Mid Day Strolls,” but you’d think someone making this game would have spoken up. I know if I were programming this game, I would want it to feel tight and natural, like having sex with a16 year old.

Shit.

What I meant to say was that anytime you’re hiding behind anything and try to change your view with the right analog stick, the camera blissfully lodges itself in the good Lieutenant’s ass. It just creeps right up in there, and if someone attacks you from behind while you’re trying to “rectumfy” the situation, (see what I did there?) you get murdered on the spot. And if that wasn’t bad enough, every gun-wielding villain in this game graduated from sniper school with a PhD in head shots. I mean, once you’re under fire, you’re number is up! They will take you down faster than something that takes you down really fuckin’ fast, and I’m not kidding. You see, one of the staples of first person shooters is the ease in destroying random assholes with a gun. However, Microsoft boldly stepped forward and threw all the rules of first person shooting out the “windows.” (See? I did it again)

Smooth controls? Don’t need ‘em.

Moderate A.I.? Over rated.

Some colorful scenery? Unwanted.

Fun game play? Yeah right.

Camera in the butt? FUCK YEAH!

I would normally applaud a company for stepping outside the box and trying something new; similar to how “Smackdown VS Raw” added a new thumb stick grappling control to the game play last year. I would also applaud SvR for not throwing all the rules of its gaming genre into the toilet only to replace the losses with elements of Wave Race 64. In summary; (despite what 18 thousand internet idiots might tell you) these controls for a 1st person shooter are comparable to the puckering of your anus after learning your girlfriend wants to “turn the tables” to “see how you like it.” Don’t understand the metaphor? Good. You have proven yourself a useful member of society; now get me a number 4 with a medium fry. Also, if you have any barbeque sauce, just toss it in the bag.

Next on my list of seething hatred regarding Gears is the apparent need to make this transaction look like a movie. Yes, yes, I understand that making the graphics fantastic (which I will admit they are) and taking away all indicators of life, ammunition, maps, cross hairs, and compass does in fact make this game feel more like a movie. The problem is; I don’t pay 60 dollars for a movie. I pay 60 dollars for a video game. I want to see where I’m shooting. I want the camera to be steadied. I want a health bar on screen. I want a map to view. I want some beautiful scenery. Instead of any of that, all I want to do is take it back. Fuck. I mean, it’s a shooting game without cross hairs. C’mon! I don’t want my health to be viewable only in a situation where I’m 2 seconds from death! Who thought of that?! Fuck!

“But Sassy, it’s gotten great reviews!”

So did Matrix Reloaded. What’s your point?

Anyways, there is just far too much bullshit to ignore about this game as a whole. However, I do enjoy holding the run button…that is until Snuffmuffins gets near a wall, in which case he decides its suddenly stealth time. I imagine that this training came from his prepubescent youth when he would run through the house operating an RC car. He would probably just bolt through the dining room until he realized his 13 year old sister was having a sleepover, and suddenly he’d stop running and hit the deck behind the kitchen counter in order to listen in on the giggling conversation. His weaponless hands would be held aloft and together, index fingers extended, like his weapon of choice was a flesh magnum.

I also think that’s the name of a porno I saw a long time ago.

Someone e-mail me if you can find the adult movie- “Flesh Magnum.”

Fast forward 30 years, and Snuffmuffins is putting himself to the test, just a few feet away from impending doom. Anyways, so I’m running through some back alleys and find myself getting more and more infuriated with the cameras. If you’re in “run mode” you can’t see anything at all to Snuffmuffins’ left, and the stuff you can see on his right is shaky as hell from all the “realistic run action” you’re forced to endure. So either way, you can’t see shit, and you will probably die. But, if you manage to live, you get to this room where suddenly everyone around wants to shoot you in the face. There’s all these flashes of gunfire that are so realistic (and moviesque) that you can’t tell where the bullets are coming from, and even if you manage to get a good view of your surroundings, everything is so gray and colorless that you can’t make out any foes amongst the concrete and metal floors. Maybe this will ease up later. Yeah, and maybe monkeys will fly out of my butt.

Haha! I just shot this guy in the face, and he took it like The Rock selling a Stone Cold Stunner. I don’t know why shooting someone in the face with a machine gun makes them fly towards you across the floor though. Oh well, at least it was a part of this game I could give some “fun” credit to, because the rest of it sure ain’t doing well on that scale. Next, you receive false advertisement as Snuffmuffins and his college crony escape on a conveniently passing chopper, avoiding the giant monster I kind of wanted to kill. What a bummer. Interestingly enough though, I did notice some parallels to our real life, as some southern shackle-cat in charge yelling that he “has a plan to end the war” and then the smartest character in the group uttering “yeah right.” This is (of course) after Snuffmuffins is labeled a traitor and then asked to give 110% for his superiors. 110%?! Who does he think this guy is, The Defuser?! God, this game would have been much better if I got to play as the Defuser instead of Graysmith McCharcoalgray. I mean, the controls would have sucked, but at least the protagonist would have been radical- just like Transformers: The Game. Although, I took that back too.

You know what? I honestly can’t justify spending any more time playing this game to review it. I’d rather perform acts of pure justice, like going to a restaurant and punching a crying baby in the face. Oh shut up. You know they deserve it, and what’s worse is that no one has the balls to buck up and Hadoken those little fuckers in the jaw line themselves. When I’m enjoying a steak, silence is golden; as is the corral I am enjoying the afore mentioned steak at. Then I would most likely end my patriotic duties for the evening by finding Brittany Spears and filling her vagina in with Silly Putty. Hey, someone’s gotta do it sooner or later, and it might as well be me. With that being said, I’m now turning off my X-Box 360.

Aahhhh…I love the feeling I get when I turn Gears of War off. It’s comparable to the feeling you get the first time you realize you can use Twizzlers as a straw for your beverage, or how excited you get when you build your IKEA bed and end up with a whole bag of left over pieces. You’re all like “I’m so talented that I didn’t even need all the parts!” Then you take a victorious sip of Mountain Dew through a Twizzler. Anyways, back to my point; Gears of War is a travesty on mankind’s greatest gaming evolutions. In summary, I feel this game was over hyped and over priced. The let down I felt was relatively heart shattering in so many ways, and I feel like Microsoft has duped us all yet again. If I were you, I would never buy this game, and immediately stop listening to Linkin Park. Yeah, I know you do. But, the situation may not be a total loss for the 360 after all. Maybe they’ll make a sequel that will dump all of the control schematics from this game, and they’ll change the setting to a lusciously green New Zealand. It would be pretty and control well at the same time, proving that everything is not lost for Gear of War. I have faith.

The George Michael single.

Not in Grays of War.

Uh...I mean Gears of War.

Until next horrible thing
-Sassy Frog

Game Review - Playstation 3

2007-09-28T03:14:00.000-04:00

What would you say if I told you that the Sony Playstation 3 was a giant hunk of feces? Fine, a giant hunk of high definition feces. Thanks to an army of corporate imbeciles, we’ve learned as a human collective that shit can come in 1080p. The “p” is for “poop.” It’s also my understanding that the PS3 (hereby referred to as the PS3) is capable of draining your pockets unnecessarily while at the same time, destroying what’s left of your inner child. I admit; I’m impressed.

Since the release of Sony’s 3rd video game console to the world, we’ve seen a multitude of cocky representatives talk a good game about the Playstation product and all of its new features. However, the one feature they seemed to exclude from this console is “fun.” Now, I’m no expert (yes I am) but as a person (expert) who enjoys video games on a daily basis, I find it a bit odd that for all its bells and whistles, this system lacks anything to actually gloat about. At least penny loafers held pennies.

The first kick in the nuts one experiences with the PS3 is the almighty price tag. Let me just put it this way; If I really wanted a big pile of shit, I could forgo the 600 dollars and just spend $12.95 at a Chinese buffet. Both situations end with me having a pile of shit and a bucket of regret, and the only difference is that I’ll have money left in my bank account afterwards. Enough (in fact) to go purchase an X-Box 360, a Nintendo Wii and I’d still have enough left over to hit the Rita’s down the street for a gelato. I know that Sony tries to justify the price with promises of blu-ray, Hi-def, and double stimulation vibrators, but if history dictates anything, Sony’s proprietary media will fall in honor of the legendary Beta Max. Apparently hind sight isn’t always 20/20.

Next on the list of horrible insults perpetrated by Sony is the fact that the system only lives up to it’s full potential if you’ve previously spent your mega-millions on a multimedia entertainment setup. This means that you need a high definition television capable of 1080p resolution, 5.1 surround sound audio, and gold component cables for appropriate system hook up. For an even better experience, you also might want to invest in a decent entertainment center that can hold all this crap, as well as a nice place to sit (couch, chair, loveseat, stool, front seat on Superman: ride of steel). So, assuming you’ve already spent the 10k on the surrounding fundamentals, you then hook up the system and enjoy. Wait…maybe not. I guess you’ll need some games, a memory card converter (and if you have any friends left) you might want to get a 2nd controller. But (like I said) you probably don’t have any friends and/or lovers left by now and as such, you might want to just divert your funds into a solid porn collection. Nothing says “better than PS3” than having all 34 volumes of “Chocolate Anal Sisters and the Spider-Vag Chronicles.” Some of the only sequels that actually gets better with chronology, like the Rocky series.

Now, when you think of a good video game system, you can’t help but dream of the many classic titles that go hand-in-hand with said memorable console. However, we seem to run into a slight problem when our topic marker is the PS3 (hereby referred to as the PS3). You may not have a full understanding of how limited the library of “classics” are for the PS3, but I can tell you this: They fucking suck and they don’t fucking exist. The most recent release that was hurled from the acid lined stomach of the PS3 is a gemstone called “Lair.” In this title, you twirl your controller in order to correlate the movements with your flying on-screen lizard. Sounds like fun, huh? Well, it’s not, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Now, now…I know you’re hoping that this title is bottom of the barrel as far as PS3 games go, but unfortunately it’s heralded as the “best.” More like the “best” piece of shit! See what I did there? God, I’m funny. Anyways, to summarize the collection of games that legitimizes purchasing this asshole piece of hardware: There are none. The only thing it had going for it (sort of I guess) was the pre Christmas release of Grand Theft Auto 4, which has subsequently been pushed back to 2nd quarter 2008. This means that the holiday mortality rate for the PS3 is going to skyrocket like Shia Lebeouf’s career since Transformers. P.S.3-R.I.P.-L.O.L.

I would also like to make mention that I used to operate my awake time as an employee of Game Stop (fuck Game Stop) for a period of 6 months. During this time, I learned an important lesson about the PS3- nobody wants them. Seriously, go to Playstation 3’s MySpace page and you’ll notice that all of its pictures are at a ¾ view. This means that it’s fat. And what’s worse is that it has no personality to make up for it.

Sassy: “Have you met my friend, the PS3?”
Gwen: “Is he cute?”
Sassy: “Well, he’s got a great pers...uhm…”
Gwen: “Well..?”
Sassy: “Geez, I don’t know.”
Gwen: “Heyyyy…so I got to get back to work.”
Sassy: “Well, just so you know, PS3 thinks you’re cute.”
Gwen: “I’m seeing someone.”

Playstation 3 isn’t even someone (physical bio-incarnation metaphore) I’d want to hang out with. You know he’d probably just mooch nachos off you at the movie theatre and never pay you back. Then when you approach him about it, he’d make some excuse that he’s unemployed because no one buys him. Well, ok…I’d let that one slide, but he’s not getting anymore of my nachos. Seriously though, we would use the PS3 boxes in the storage room to build forts, meanwhile, we couldn’t keep Wii’s in stock for more than 20 minutes. I think we only got one PS3 out the doors, and that was only because of theft.

Also, he returned it.

Fuck. I hate Game Stop.

Now, if any of you Cock Laundromats have a desire to own a PS3 after my rantings of justice and truth, let me wind down this insert with some factual facts from the internet. As of this week, the PS3 is at the bottom of the console buy list as marked by http://www.vgchartz.com/ The Nintendo Wii sits on a mountain of gold at 11.3 million units sold with the X-Box 360 finishing a respectable 2nd place with 10.82 million units out the door. What’s hilarious is that you’d then expect the worldwide sales of the PS3 to obviously lock it in at 3rd place, but then you’d be wrong! Taking 3rd place is the system’s fantastic predecessor, the Playstation 2 at 6.63 million sold! The PS3 eventually takes an astounding 4th place reign with 4.5 million units forced on the public. And I am referring to systems bought during the current console generation, so when I’m talking about PS2 sales, I am NOT referring to their sales prior to the 2007 year. I’m talking about new units sold since the PS3 was released. *golf clap* So if you don’t believe me, fan boys, check the damn math. Not only can I prove you wrong with science, but now I can add math to the equation! Get it? Add math? Equation?!

Oh, shut the fuck up.

There’s seriously no reason to ever own one of these. I’m sorry, but I can’t condone coughing up multiple hundreds of dollars to stick this near your TV. At best, I suggest you go to a friend’s house to try one out if you simply must, but if you’re a person like me, you don’t associate yourself with PS3 owning persons. Just remember guys- Republicans own Playstation 3’s, and you don’t want to be one of them? Do you?

In conclusion, I feel that Sony can pull themselves out of this console grave by simply dropping the system price by a million dollars and giving us some games we actually want. Not Lair. If they apply this knowledge to their business plan, they just might be able to win the console wars with a fierce underdog comeback. I have faith.

The George Michael single.

Not in the PS3 (hereby referred to as the PS3).

Until the next horrible thing I endure,
-Sassy Frog

Movie Review - House Of 1,000 Corpses

2007-09-27T14:47:00.000-04:00

Very rarely do I have the pleasure of viewing a horror/thriller movie that doesn’t make me want to punch Hollywood in the vas deferens. These days, “jump movies” (as I call them) have such a small quantity of plot that you feel decidedly empty after prying your ass out of the theatre seating. It’s like getting a sandwich from Subway; where the plot is the meat, the acting is the toppings and the bread is the gore. So, much like eating at Subway, you walk away with not enough filling and too much bread. Fuck you Subway, and fuck you Rob Zombie for this cinematic insult known as “The House of 1,000 Corpses.”

Apparently it's Lions gate Films we give the credit for forcing this homeless piece of shit into my eye sockets. After an 11th grader flash animation of the L.G. logo, we witness some unentertaining parody of all night horror movie marathons, hosted by Dr. Cottonsplash. We are quickly informed that Cottonsplash has a PhD in not shutting the hell up before the audience is magically whisked away to Sid “HaHaMyCareerIsDead” Haig. Apparently he’s a clown. Good for him.

Next, we get a glimpse of a small town gas station, but beware...there seems to be shenanigans a foot. Shenanigans that end in murder. Angela Lansbury wasn’t available to solve the mystery, so we’re forced to endure more of the "best acting this side of Shattner." And yes, I know making fun of Shattner’s acting is as trite as this film, but I’m sticking to a theme here, people.

Soon we’re confronted by that guy from "The Office" driving a car. Now, I know what you’re thinking, but no, Steve Carrell is not in this movie. As it turns out, because of typical horror movie characters being dumb as shit, Office guy and his friends (2 girls, a guy, and a pizza place) stop at a familiar gas station to ride a carousel of murder or something. Also, this scene is home to the most awkward small talk/banter I’ve ever witnessed in any movie in history. “Blah, blah, I love the Duke. Blah, blah space boy, bang. Blah, blah redneck pickle anus.”

After riding the Scooby Doo mystery attraction at King’s Dominion, Ace, Gary and the Scissor Sisters part ways with Sid Haig only to head towards certain doom. This is also a good time to mention that Rob Zombie exudes creativity by inserting random snippets of missing posters whenever there’s a free editing space in Final Cut Pro. With that being said, its also worth noting that Mr. Zombie is the master of color filters. Every time he gets a chance, he is the high dictator of color filters, I promise you. This scene could use a little more green. ...and DONE!

Oh, Otis, you silly fucker.

NEXT, the gang of courageous teenagers have to shack up with a family of Decepticons in order to stay warm during the reparation of their car. But as it turns out, the Decepticons are up to no good, and our heroes are now in danger. 4 family members, 3 camera angels, 2 split screens and a partridge in a pear tree later, we’re treated to a floor show that makes me lovingly long for Rocky Horror. This (in an interesting turn of events) makes me wonder how awesome a fight between Richard O’Brien and Rob Zombie would be. Well...pre Shock Treatment O’Brien at least. I bet Zombie gets kicked in the nuts. Twice.

After the floor show is interrupted by a bitch fight, the teens are kicked from the home with a declaration of a fixed vehicle. However, when the gang attempts to escape in the repaired car, Big Fish’s Carl dances all over the hood. Fuck, this movie sucks a boner. Anyways, the kids are knocked unconscious by the realization they aren’t getting paid enough to be in this pile of crap, only to awaken in the vicinity of Otis B. Driftwood.

In case you’re unfamiliar with Bill Moseley, the actor behind Otis, he’s also the star of the box office smash “The Evil Bong.” Not to be confused with "The Evil Dead”, as Bruce Campbell wouldn’t even spit in the direction of that horrific moving picture backwash. Actually, there’s another good in-ring match up! Bruce Campbell versus Bill Moseley. I’ll give you two guesses as to whom the victory and spoils would go.

I’ll give you credit. You probably got that one right.

*side note* So, as it turns out, black guys yelling at cameras are fuckin’ hilarious. Especially when they look homeless. *end side note*

At this point in our dynamic plot, the kids have been tortured, murdered, laughed at and called stupid names. Also, they’ve been locked up for a couple days now I guess, and so, with the children gone missing, the police have been called in to investigate. Here is where we also learn that Rob Zombie is a genius on yet another level altogether. While the police, who are investigating the Decepticons, are getting murdered, Rob ingeniously plays a song which appears to be totally inappropriate for the situation! *gasp* So you can teach old dogs new tricks! Now if only we could see some slow moti….

Oh, there it is.

Any who, after what seems to be a DVD error, the final cop gets shot and the film moves on. Personally, I was kind of enjoying the silence and lack of “acting” featured in this 10 minute segment, but I guess all good things must come to an end. At least until nostalgia of the era kicks in and Hollywood makes another sequel or two.

Well now, let’s see. The remaining teens are subjected to a Halloween ritual where the Decepticons, ripe with energon, are attempting to finish them off. I think this is the part where the childish and ADD ridden female (Baby) yells about a rabbit hutch and stabs the second to last female to death in a field of darkness. Ya know, I have no idea what the fuck that daffy broad is laughing about, but someone needs to teach her not to howl at her own jokes. It’s doesn’t make them funnier when you do it, and ultimately it removes a lot of your street cred. At least I have a good gift idea for you whenever Christmas rolls around this year.

Sassy: “Here ya go, Baby. Enjoy.”
Baby: “Teeheehee. What’s this? A piece of paper? Teehee.”
Sassy: “Sorta.”
Baby: “Huh? A free pass to Steven Wright’s school of comedy?”

This is the part where I sever her clit with a Hulk Hogan action figure and yell about a rabbit hutch. It’s a touching moment. Oscar worthy material for sure.

So now there’s a coffin, a cave, and a last chance at survival, which (Lt. Ripley’s believe it or not) is blown by the character’s shier idiot factor. The movie goes from being kind of believable (minus the fucking color filters, Zombie, you clinical retard) to being down right silly right about here. Skeleton lined cavern walkways fill the final underground scenes before the living female accidentally walks into Mortal Kombat 2. Unfortunately, she pisses off Baraka and a chase ensues, resulting in a fatality.

Toasty.

The girl basically lives long enough to be caught by the devilish Decepticons and their leader, Sid Haig. Although Sid’s car is pretty sweet, it doesn’t save this movie from not having a plot. Sure Rob, you can have death in a movie, and you can even do it tastefully, but death by itself is no substitute for a story. And, for the record, don’t cross check that information with Quentin Tarantino or Eli Roth, as the results may prove disastrous. Thankfully, “The End” appears on the screen and my life can resume being Rob Zombie free.

In summary, I feel that this movie sucked a baby cheetah’s rectum. Also, I didn’t like it very much. It’s my personal opinion that when an individual pays money to see a movie, you shouldn’t make it shockingly awful. Obviously, Mr. Zombie, you feel differently than I about the precedings, however, you are wrong. Hey now. Buck up there, little slugger. I’m sure your next movie will be way less stupid and demeaning to my intelligence. I have faith.

The George Michael single.

Not in you.

Until the next horrible thing,
Sassy Frog

The Introduction

2007-09-27T00:11:00.000-04:00

I am a man of strong opinions and a valued sense of pride. Everything I comment on in our society is my firm belief and does not represent the opinion of anyone else, I assure you. Whatever you may think, you are most certainly wrong. I can prove this with science. That being said, don't e-mail me with your thoughts and concerns because I generally do not enjoy stupidity. Have a nice day, but don't do it near me.

These immortal words will rattle around the internet like dice of plastic superiority inside a Yahtzee cup. My intellect is so profounding and intimidating that I alone, am the only being capable of deciphering which boss is best; Springstein or Danza. And, not that it's any of your business, but Danza takes the gold. Try to prove me wrong. You can't. This is why I am in charge here and you are not.

In my forthcoming remarks regarding movies, music, games, religion and such, I will be saying things that you will probably dislike. If you can't handle the fact that other people have opinions, then I strongly suggest you take up Christianity, and I wish you all the best. If you are entertained by my text-based speeches, then check back about once a week for things I will review and talk about. However, this isn't Jenga and as such, you don't get a turn after me. That means I don't want to hear what you have to say about anything. And why do you think that is?

No, it's because you're always wrong. See? You couldn't even get that one right.

In conclusion, I find it best to leave "them" (you(the idiot)) wanting more. So, without further adieu, here is a list of links to free all anal videos.http://www.allb/.....

-Sassy Frog