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These orcs n dorks games have stopped making any kind of sense to me. I’ve played a few of them and they’re all the same. You start off by taking to some gay looking bloke who calls himself an “elf†who gives you some huge long speech about recovering the Sword of Dobber from some evil demon and how he ‘s looking for heroes to undertake this mammoth task. He then asks you if you’re interested at which point you say “yes†on account of the fact that you’ve seen Lord of the Rings and if a bunch of kids and Bob Geldof can pull that shit off then you should be capable. Then this “elfâ€ÂÂÂ, having got you roped in to this epic adventure by telling you how you will be required to travel many miles and fight many large and terrifying monsters then sends you off to kill 200 fucking chickens for their bastarding feet or something. What I really don’t understand is why the hell is this weirdo with the spock ears is collecting chicken feet in the first place? Christ, you think the internet hasn’t enough sexual perversions to keep people happy? What’s worse is he’s asking the other 10,000 people playing to do the same thing. You even get people coming up to you asking if they can join you feeding this blokes sick fantasies by collecting these chicken feet together!
Err, no thanks mate, I’m off to help that fat kid who calls himself a “dwarf†stick his nob in a tub of maggots. He’s far less weird than the bloke you’re helping.
Anyway, since you then never get the option to tell him to stick his sicko epic quest where the sun don’t shine you’re pretty much knackered (unless you like epically slaying chickens with a big stick of course).
So yeah, “Vanguard – Saga of Heroes who’ve all killed 200 chickensâ€ÂÂÂ. Sounds great.
This game has changed a lot since it was announced. I remember them saying that it was supposed to be set in a nightmare vision off the future in the area around Chernobyl but looking at the screenshots they’ve obviously done a complete U turn on the whole idea and decided to set it in present day Hull for some strange reason.
*SPOILER WARNING*
The climactic end of the game involves your character shouting “Look out, farv mutants! – count ’em – 1,2,3,4,farv!” and all that. At which point your sidekick will say “No mate, they’ve all got 5 fingers. Those are actually normal people.” At which point the final twist will be the true horror of the realisation that your character, being from Hull was actually a mutuant all along! He will then fall to his knees in revulsion as if he’s just pulled a bird from Scunthorpe and didn’t realise until he’d done the deed.
So yeah, I reckon it will be pretty scary. Trust me on this I should know – I’ve actually been to Hull.
Another World was this ridiculous Amiga game fella. It was ridiculous because it had one of the most risible heroes ever devised by people wot make computer games. You might find this hard to believe so I’ll tell you in advance that this is true so you don’t have to question it. Are you ready? Alright, brace yourself.
The hero of this piece that you had to play was a ginger. That’s right a ginger! This put you in an impossible situation since if you bought the game you felt duty bound to finish it, but if you had any self respect you had to get this carrot knackers killed at every opportunity.
Obviously, fans of the game will tell you that it was groundbreaking in it’s concept of giving you such stark moral choices, but I for one just want to enjoy playing a game when I buy it so I was left going back to playing Strip Poker on the Spectrum. Yeah, the birds all had grey skin and looked nothing like birds but they did have pink nipples.
Thinking back, I’ve never spent more than 15 quid on any single piece of clothing (except shoes – spent 35 quid on Docs twice).
These “humane” mouse traps are badly mislabelled. We caught a mouse in one when we were away on holiday and when we got back the poor little bastard had slowly starved to death in a 2 by 4 cm box.
What the fuck is humane about that?!
@=XDC=NeonSamurai wrote:
😆 😆 😆
On a side note, I think that Jesus is great……
b) He mocks gheys (unlike that batty boy Insane)
This is true, but it’s all his dads fault and here is a Christian rock song to prove it
Stop!
Before anyone else buys this you should really be getting the opinion of an expert. Now we just happen to have an expert on this sort of thing in XDC Morgan who has read over 300 comics!
Now he can’t come to his PC at the moment because he broke his specs last night and is sellotaping them up or summat but this is what he made of all this:
“Worst. Comic. Ever”(PS, some of this might be made up. If so please ask Morgan not to come round to my house and get me with knockout gas then string me up by my feet to some crazy contraption that lowers me slowly into a vat of sulphuric acid filled with crocodiles. My utility belt clasp broke last night and it’s down at the £2.00 shop being repaired. Thanks.)
@=XDC=MADMAX wrote:
The next time you find yourself on a plane /train/bus, sitting next to someone who either cannot resist chattering to you endlessly, or has a loud ipod, or is on the phone constantly quietly pull your laptop out of your bag, carefully open the screen ensuring the irritating person next to you can see it, and hit this link:
“I’ve told you before Max, STOP STEALING MY FUCKING JOKES!”Ah damn, sorry Neon. I thought I was being bang up to date with all this by making out I knew all about “Casabianâ€ÂÂÂ. I’ll never get the hang of this new fangled “popular musicâ€ÂÂÂ, it’s all just noise anyway.
I actually saw some of this Muse music while channel flicking over the weekend. Here’s the thing though – it was on some rock music channel. Eeh dear, I couldn’t understand that. I remember when rockers had long hair and played rock music.
Still, the thing which really got my back up whilst channel flicking was this bunch called “Casabianâ€ÂÂÂ. Now I don’t know much about anything really. Anything that I’ve ever learned has generally been lost when I sobered up and forgot where I’d been and what I’d done. Here’s what I do know though, this “Casabian†lot have never been within 30 square miles of any kind of bother whatsoever. I mean, just look at ‘em! The most strife they’ve ever seen is when one of their little sisters pulled the head of their favourite Barbie doll because they wet themselves in the wendy house. So here’s why I’m annoyed at this lot. Safe in this knowledge I’d like to seriously ask how anyone could ever believe that this bunch of mopheaded shitsticks would ever have even the remotest inkling of an vague idea that they could even begin to predict when a riot was about to start. I’ve not seen anything so ridiculous since that cross dressing cock knocker Marilyn Manson sung “The Fight Song†(interesting point, people say that the Americans don’t understand irony but I’ll stick up for them and say that any country that produces someone like Marilyn Manson who then sings “The Fight Song†knows far more about irony than most of us could ever begin to understand).
Anyhow, here’s a story about a shopkeeper banning some scum youth kid for wearing a hoodie – give this shopkeeper a medal I say.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/north_yorkshire/6288885.stm
My keyboard that I’ve got at home is white, it’s got all the letters of the alphabet on it and all the numbers from 0-9 on it too. It’s also got loads of F keys and some computer jargon bollock keys on it like “insert” and Pause break” that I’ve never used. What’s more, it’s even got 2 little plastic hinges on the bottom so you can have it at 2 heights.
Now all these keyboards here with their daft names and flashing lights are all very well but last time I checked I don’t think you could actually write any words with them that you couldn’t on my keyboard.
So my advice would be just to get any – no matter how much money you spend on this lump of plastic it’s not gonna do your washing up or give you a bj, it’s just an effing keyboard for gods sake.
@=XDC= wild egg tamer wrote:
its an incredible world you live in soia…………..i must visit it sometime 😆
You’re welcome to visit Bradford anytime you like WET, just go north up the M1 then take the M62, Bradford is clearly signposted
For your own sake, just remember to wipe your feet when you leave.
Thanks for your support Neon and Spunker but I’m afraid that I’m about as interested in politics as Heather McCartney is in tap dancing. Put me in charge and I’d just spend all the taxpayers money on whores and alcohol (I’m just being honest, which precludes me from being a politician before I’ve started). My involvement in politics involved me once getting drunk and telling a load of students that instead of their piss poor attempts at setting the world to rights we should just build thunderdomes in every major city and let the scum kill each other while twanging around on elastic bands. They all got a bit arsey though and my mate ended up smashing a glass and asking them if they’d ever studied fighting – at which point they all disappeared sharpish and we got barred. Story of my life. It wasn’t all bad though because the “intellectuals” had been roundly thrashed by us in a pub quiz earlier in the night* and we got a free crate of beer out of it.
*We cheated, but that’s not the point.
@Mr.Fenix wrote:
Real Causes of Road Congestion:
National road networks
1. Runaway capitalism pushing train ticket-prices through the roof whilst consistently keeping their standards down.
2. Running down rail-freight and proliferating trucks on the roads.In towns
1. Weirdos driving their kids to school.
2. Building commercial developments in locations that are already developed, thus overloading the infrastructure by increasing demand.
3. Runaway capitalism pushing bus ticket-prices through the roof whilst consistently keeping their standards down.The fuckin’ fucks have fuckin’ fucked it. Fuckers! 👿
The causes of road congestion round where I live:
1) Scratty pink birds known locally as “Yorkshire Flamingoes†pushing their prams containing their mong babies into the roadway to get traffic to stop so they can cross the road.
2) Teenagers dressed like cunts who once saw a f*cking rap video on MTV and suddenly think they are 6’5†‘bros who grew up in the projects in Brooklyn, NYC and think that not stopping for traffic to cross the road makes them look “the shitâ€ÂÂÂ. If anyone can actually tell me why these verminous shitsticks think this – I’d like to hear it, cos I’ll be fucked if I know.
3) Lard arses. Nothing specific here, but you got to have a pop at them whenever you can, it’s only fair. I dunno, maybe the salad dodging buffet slayer took 5 minutes to haul his or her fat arse across the road to the burger van. Something like that anyway.
4) Theme pubs and chain pubs. You can’t just wander down to your boozer anymore can you – no you can’t. Well you could if you wanted to drink blue and pink bottles of tart fuel all night and listen to men complaining about how their fucking topshop credit card is maxed out. Christ on a crutch, lost for words. I’ve just one question for these blokes who have credit cards for clothes shops – do you get your bollocks chopped off and have “bird†branded on your arse before or after you get your girly credit card. Unbelievable. I once actually met a lad who admitted to having one, needless to say that for the safety and integrity of my own tea towel holder I gave him a wide berth from thereon in. So anyway my point is that you’ve got to drive halfway across the bloody country these days to find a half decent pub, then you run into a bus load of grannies on the way home because your shitfaced and it’s suddenly your fault that people died and roads got closed – wait a minute, I didn’t tear down the local and put the effing Blue Oyster Bar up in it’s place!
5) Ugly birds. Times were that you’d get to the pub and you’d already have enough stored in the wank bank to get home and burp the sea slug.
Then:
“Bloody hell, it’s 10 past 6 lad, where’ve you been?â€ÂÂÂ
“Ah, sorry mate – missed the scum shovel and the next one was delayed by 10 minutes. Still it was worth it because there was some right blart on the one I caught. Tell you, I’m ready to go home and relax in a gentlemans way already. Fucking hell, look at the legs on this one coming in now…â€ÂÂÂ
Now:
“Bloody hell, it’s 10 past 6 lad, where’ve you been?â€ÂÂÂ
“Ah, sorry mate – missed the scum shovel and the next one was delayed by 10 minutesâ€ÂÂÂ
“Still, bet there was some decent tarty bit to look at?â€ÂÂÂ
“You must be ‘kin joking mate, not these days. Just Yorkshire Flamingoes and fat bloaters.â€ÂÂÂ
“Yeah, you might as well drive everywhere from now on. If only these young birds today weren’t such munters people might actually relieve congestion by catching the bus to get a gander at ‘emâ€ÂÂÂ
“Yeah, you’re not wrong there. Ah shit, breathe in fella, these fat knackers who’ve just come in look like they need to get past….â€ÂÂÂThis is terrible journalism if you ask me, which no-one did. The real issue behind this story is whether croaking it in the middle of a don’t piss yourself contest constitiutes a forfeit. If not, then surely she won. That’s as long as they didn’t find her all bloated up and blue in a pool of her own urine of course.
Since this is a medical thread here’s my story
On Wednesday night I was in a right state, I had terrible stomach cramps. At some point in the early hours I went to the toilet and had the shits in a big way. But, this is the truly impressive bit. Whilst sitting their doing the business I suddenly started throwing up all over the place. So I was emptying my bowels from both ends at the same time. It was metal
By the way even though I’ve still got terrible stomach cramps I’m not asking for Docs advice though. As you’ve no doubt gathered I’m far too rock n roll for that.
