Super Mario Galaxy: The hardbound cheat book. The perfect item to bring class to any home library. I say this as the former owner of the Mario Paint book and a pair of obscenely large, barely distinct mid 1990s books about the art of user-made Doom add-ons.

A Mario Galaxy is one thing (or rather one large system of vast amounts of vaguely racist ethnic caricatures of stars), but do you ever find yourself thinking, gravy gondola, my cheap bucketware games just aren’t boring and abstractly pointless enough?

Bweeyoop! It’s Rubik Cube: the video game! The sort of simplistic and annoying toy video games were invented to be better than, now deprived of that simplicity in addition to its convenient portability and tactile appeal. I could never solve the cube¹ but I enjoyed twisting it around. It also makes a fairly whimsical yet adaptable decoration. This, however, surely has a completely different center of gravity. Oh yeah and it’s in a big stupid plastic box, too. I wouldn’t even hide it where I keep my forbidden hats. At least with Minesweeper you can pretend your boring window games are saving lives. How is spinning individual parts of a dopey rainbow cube going to help the innocent civilians of your war-torn operating system? Where’s the urgency, Rubik?

¹I could, if my memory is certain, complete Square 1, but it was more randomly shifting pieces in the permitted directions until the cube was formed than actually “solving” anything,

Finally, my least favorite arrpeejee mini-game available as a standalone title.
I can’t imagine there being any trace of desire to run a slot machine, much less a video slot machine, without even the slightest, nigh-imaginary chance of winning. But hey, you can never lose more than 20 dollars! Unless you buy both of these! It has been determined that if you put something in a box, on a shelf, in a store, somebody will inevitably buy one, regardless of what it is, if it has Betty Boop on it (seen here having a border dispute with a price sticker). Still, a more dignified King Features outing overall than Popeye: Rush for Spinach,

even if it lacks an appearance by Jagged Edge Totally Gnarly Rail-Grindin’ Wimpy. Remember, when you think electronic urban non-violent competition for the 21st century, think Popeye the Sailor Man.

You mean besides that it’s boring, totally out of character, and not a strong central basis for a side-view action game?

I want to go to Spira. Even jail is pretty there. I might be inspired to write proper site updates in a timely manner at such a place.

Page 23 (scroll down, fool) of this. It has occurred to me that this contains the third display of vomiting and the fourth overall vomiting (that I remember) implied to have occurred since this… this thing has been in production. And yet, no other similar gross evacuation has been acknowledged. Now I worry people will think I have a stomach-acid fetish.

the heating system in my eh room broke. Ordinarily, in summer, that wold not be an issue of immediate importance. However, it broke so it’s always on and quite, and it’s right beside my magic computer machine and so my options are limited at the moment.

When you buy a Dora the Explorer fishing rod (yeah, I see you), it must be because you really love cardboard packaging, because that’s about the extent to which your sea-life kidnapping experience can be considered dora-y. You’re not even getting the base superficiality of Flintstones vitamin pills here. Really, that makes about as much sense as

Disney Brand Raisins. How I long for the more innocent, simple times of

Disney Brand Ravioli. Note that this is not a proper, remotely reputable food company licensing characters to appear on its box. This is a company which owns some characters deciding it will use alchemy to convert a useless animation studio into a processing plant ^{[citation needed]} to manufacture food which incorporates vague aspects of their designs. Yeah, we’re not into that whole “nice looking cartoon” thing so much anymore. However, any professional animators made obsolete by some punk who downloaded Flash have the exclusive opportunity to apply for a job taping little circles together. Oink, remember when Disney was afraid so badly to market PG and R rated movies that it made a new company with a different name to handle that? Now it’s not even worried about something in a totally unrelated field of business bearing the name. I mean… Coca Cola won’t even sell Coke brand water without calling it Dasani, and that’s a liquid consumable.

I remember when I thought it was weird that there was more than one Disney cereal, with evidently their own private store section, even with General Mills overseeing production. Fortunately I still do. Also: There are hundreds of changes you could make to have Mickey Mouse be less fundamentally unappealing, but converting it into creepy low-detail heavy gradient 3d was the only thing I’d actually expect to happen. There are less boxes not because people bought them; most likely they just hid.

So maybe you’d like a Superman fishing rod instead.

The classic question: what’s the difference between Superman and Dora fishing rods? The answer: eighty cents. If you said something outrageous like “one dollar, thirty cents,” you must have confused this with the difference between Dora and

Dora. Don’t let it happen again. And how low have the Disney Princesses fallen? First they had to eat cereal for breakfast and now they need to catch their own fish. With little plastic rods.

Indeed.
I guess when traveling through time, space, geography and the unmendable tear in my soul to meet up, none of them thought to bring along any sacks of gold or diamond tiaras or magic non-reverting glass slippers (though it wasn’t quite Terminator style since they’re all still wearing their custom marshmallow flavored dresses), and the point they arrived at refused to offer them any special accommodations. A pity they didn’t think to consult Sailor Moon, who managed to hide the Imperium Silver Crystal in her left eye for 1000 years*. Of course, having Belle, who’s not a princess but in fact just some lady from France, at the front representing them, it’s no surprise the princess’ credentials were doubted. She’s a filthy commoner like Cinder-Ella, and everybody knows it. Convenient marriages need not be a factor; remember this gang also includes The Little Mermaid, who grows legs, ceasing to be a mermaid, long before Belle seals any deals. It must also be noted that she willingly appeared as a non-princess, rather a prisoner, in no less than two sequels in which she still hangs out with The Beast. I feel like I know too much about this.

*Or something like that.

Pazuzu.

I like writing about junk I see in stores because I can stop and resume at any point. I can feature one item and be done with it. And so here are four.

As if the documented incident in which he ordered the production of choco donuts
was not adequate, here now is further proof that Captain Crunch is senile. First: I refer you to the image above. I assume his ability to wear his hat behind his eyes is a result of an accident at sea and more likely a contributing factor to than a result of the senility itself. Second, he has ordered himself to crunchatize himself. Even if we accept that “crunchatize” is a thing which can be done, which should be done, and that his Crunchness simply thinks aloud, it is a bit alarming that he feels the need to address himself so formally, and while saluting, possibly at a mirror. Also, I fear crunchatization is an irreversible process. Shouldn’t a senior, veteran officer like the captain delegate this responsibility to an expendable subordinate but who additionally is more likely to be able to handle it? I don’t mean to be callous, but in the military the proper functioning of the whole takes precedence over the needs of individuals. Living with a botched crunchatization is probably better than serving in Iraq forever anyway.

If you have worms in your diapers, even blatantly inaccurate worms, there are bigger problems going on than wetness. Even if they are low-priced worm diapers. Also, you might want to consider clothing to go over the diaper. Just a thought. Stop & Shop is not the furry art pile.

Your ignorant and hateful misconceptions about their lifestyle are uncalled for all the same.

But yes, unless your child is an Orca Stacker you should be able to fit proper clothing onto it.

Barney [and friends]’s television program and related productions can be described by many words, but scholastic ought not to be one of them. Maybe “doporific” or “lobotomaniacal” or “dumbelievable” or whatever word you might describe my invoking of this fifteen year old line of protest with. Also, the way they draw Barney’s mouth is totally wrong. And how did Barney get that cord around his fat head? And that sailboat probably shouldn’t be as big as the barn unless it’s a 16^th century sea-going vessel or some such thing. And if it is, having crossed the boundaries of time and logic presumably as our protagonist has, the passengers’ behaviour upon disembarking to find native inhabitants the likes of Barney will surely be sub-decorum in nature. Bipedal pacifist dinosaurs with undeveloped reading skills are some of the most desirable slaves around. Fight back, Barney! Don’t let them steal your precious flaps!

It is a surprisingly effective offense with a surprisingly offensive effect.

 

Oh, and firefox 3, I don’t need this animated in my tab-table while I’m looking at other pages, thank you.

candy allsorts | How to lose a guy in (2) days | !

I think I will have something tomorrow. I had better. It is my destiny.

I’m getting real tired of this destiny crap, Jack.

Hey hey. Language. Names.

Persimmon.

It can’t be a good sign for Kellogg that generic cereals have better mascots than them now (though it may be a worse sign that it took this long). Tony the Tiger: He’s grrrrrrating! It also helps to show the cereal, probably. In fact, if the Stop & Shop logo itself weren’t so bland and centered I bet these frosted flakes would taste pretty good.

With that said I still don’t want that bear crawling around in my wheat shreds. And in the event the bear is NOT climbing into/out of the bowl, that pose is even more unsettling.

One assumes Indiana Jones and his powerful glowing Adventure Spoon keep Tony in line. The Adventure Spoon is so exciting you almost forget that you’re eating cereal in your home with a plastic spoon. Almost. Suffolk to say the nation’s top scientists proceed with development of the Amnesia Spoon.

I wish I had an adventure spoon, though. That would easily make my life twice as interesting. I mean, acquiring it was so treacherous Indy had to grab it from a distance with his prehensile whip, which I’m not even sure is possible within jurisdiction of the laws of physics, likely from the psychokinetic clutches of the fearsome

Fruit Brute. But no one ever packs adventure spoons with Corn Flakes.

On the cereal subject, it occurred to me recently that “please drink responsibly” is aimed at the very same people who fifteen years earlier ate Count Chocula as part of a complete breakfast. They’ve been intentionally bred to ignore that sort of disclaimer. Yip. Oh, excuse me, I forgot to properly transition into serious mode. In the future I will indicate such a change with this picture of a lode runner level shaped like a uterus. And I put that link there so you see that it’s level 104 and think I’m patient enough to beat 103 levels of Lode Runner and sophisticated enough to do it in some weird late 80s computer version rather than just save that picture off of someone else’s website.

I was on Connecticut’s route 34 tonight. Twice (in a car). It is a horrible, scary place.

I hear Tuxedo Mask has been slated to portray Kato in the proposed Green Hornet feature film.

Craig Ferguson was talking to his tie on his Late Late program on Friday. Anybody who’s seen Bimshwel: The Live Show knows that is totally my schtick. And he knows; look at his guilty expression there. It’s been bothering me all weekend. He’d better watch out.

As you may be aware, I am sick sick weak of the growing number of products available in “singles.” I would have assumed, with the elevated environmental awareness so many persons, places and things claim to have that the trend would be opposite. I have noticed that what I would have assumed is almost always terribly wrong. It’s a good thing I didn’t actually assume it. People love wrapping smaller and smaller bits of stuff in more and more wrap-stuff. That’s the real reason potato chip bags mostly contain air. If they simply contained the chips there’d be less plastic, but plastics make it possible! It’s an enabler, that’s what it is. While much of Connecticutland has decent water service, I’d say we are decades behind where we should be with regard to our in home potato-chip taps. I mean, mine doesn’t even get mesquite barbecue. Shameful.

As we’ve observed in the past, canned soups are now available in smaller, more complicated packages which don’t taste as good. But were you aware that Hamburger Helper is now, also? Well I hope so, because otherwise you didn’t see a picture immediately above here and I know I put one there. I concede that the default HH serving is considerably larger than that of canned soup, but, eh well it’s hard enough to retain one’s dignity eating Hamburger Helper under normal preparative conditions. Microwave ovens make everything trashier and rubberier.

Poptart “Snak Stix” fall into the popcorn chicken/mini-muffin category of lousy attempts at disguising decreased amount of filling.

Oh, these are different and called “go tarts.” The exact same thing, except with more plastic and no longer named after a river in hell. This makes me wonder how close they came to being called mr.roboto tarts. I think about it all the time.

Crunch Stixx. With two Xes. One more and Daffy Duck can drink it. What is so much more marketable about snacks in stick form when spelled improperly? Eh, I suppose this is preferable to calling it “chocolate jerky.”

Kool Aid, too is available in “singles.” Putting a stop to that doesn’t begin to solve the kool aid problem, however. One time somebody gave me kool aid and said it was water and i thought it was kool aid but i tried it anyway and i knew it was kool aid and i don’t remember what happened after that.

I was under the impression that you’d be buying wretched Caprisun-style bags of premixed Kool Aid, but I now see they are in fact just little packets of dust. Pretty much you buy these if you can’t work a measuring cup. Or you’re training your kids to take over the family meth lab.

I’m sure they’d like you to think they are promoting recycling, but it seems more likely to me that for a reason I lack the science-understanding to uh comprehend, it is illegal to sell Kool Aid in bottles. Maybe they explode if they break.

As we’ve already digust, I never drank Kool Aid. I always imagined it tasted bad. And this was at a time within which I would put ketchup on pancakes. At least it was Ketchup from a proper glass fancy ketchup flaskoid. I’m tired of finding little bags of ketchup and suey sauce and various things of that nature which I have no use for. One time I got seriously twenty of them. I counted. I remember because I didn’t think it could be more than eighteen. What can be done with them? I know there’s somebody that makes portraits with it, but aside from being kind of gross, how is that any more special than using red paint? And why would you want a bright red portrait, much less one that smells like McDonald’s?

The Wendy food-vendor chain, and for all I know other places, there aren’t any around here, likes to employ extra large reinforced bags (paper and otherwise) for especially gluttonous orders (id ehhh: mine). However, they still insist on placing the contents within regular sized bags first. Cowards.

And remember, it’s never too early to start. I took this in December, but still. I have many glorious memories of waking up at 7 am on Krimmid and unwrapping sparkle parcels full of week old hamburgers and milkshakes. But I think the sign is meaning for you to simply give the card to someone rather than its spoils, in which event “easy” should not be confused with “appreciated.” You definitely shouldn’t give them to any German or Norwegian people, because “gift” means “poison” and “card” probably means something, too.

I seen these at Stop & Shop, the superbmarket. It seems like a conflict of interest for a grocery store to be promoting its arch-enemy food service, but that wouldn’t be allowed so obviously this is a mutually beneficial relationship and I will have none of it. Obviously. These are right beside the checking-out region, as if to say “maaan doan cha hate waiting behind other people and then having to wait some more before you can pay? And then having to carry stuff in bags? Well clearly you don’t so come to our places where you can also do that!”
A Wendy’s card is probably better an than applebee’s card, though. First of all, Applebee’s. Second, there really is no occasion when it’s dignified to have gotten a bill and then rise up from your ridiculously low Applebee’s booth seat and say “ehhhactually I will be placing the first five dollars of this on my Applebee’s gift card. Your tip is on my other Applebee’s gift card in my pants.” Although if you bought any and are suddenly feeling bad about the idea of giving them to anyone I will gladly accept them in my [convenient card-holding wallet compartment].