[Tech] Jaws of Rape.

Here's another entry for Niron's list of unnecessary inventions, since people don't seem to want to quit making absolutely retarded things out of some sort of deluded sense of altruism. Kinda makes me wonder if half the world's population has LSD in their water supply and nobody wanted to tell me.

Now, an anti-rape condom may seem like a good idea, in theory, but that's all it is. Theory.

Any brain addled chimpanzee can see that after the first few incidences of this working any competent rapist will take preventative measures against the "Rape-aXe". A slightly less brain addled chimpanzee will be able to tell that some of the possible repercussions would be worse than the problem we started out with in the first place.

In fact, here are some probable scenarios:

1. The patented "Rape -o- Meter" - Can be made easily at home using a stick, stop sign, shovel or a convenient phallically shaped cactus. Now you can check for anti-rape devices by jamming a broom handle in the victim and removing the device. After the preliminary check, rape proceeds as planned. Now every rape victim gets violated with an inanimate object first!

2. The Violent Consequence -The rapist, upon discovering the vaginal venus flytrap attached to his breeding apparatus proceeds to beat the victim to death with the nearest miniature canoe, and then abandons the scene. Now every rape victim gets violently punished for wearing the device. Possibly with a Rape-Axe. Heh.

3.The Misleading Bitch - Misuses the product for personal reasons, possibly by luring men with promise of consensual sex, then threatening them with the prospect of calling in a rape when the device takes hold. See #2 for possible ramifications.

Now in addition to these gross oversights the designer claims that the use of this device will definitely lead to an arrest since the rapist would need medical assistance to remove the device. However, one look at that piece of Taiwanese trash leads me to believe that any retard with a pair of scissors could free his schlong from it's silicon oppressor with the utmost of ease.

Aren't South Africans just so adorable when they try to contribute to society? D'aww.

[Movie Review] Robin Hood.

Every movie nowadays endeavors to be a gritty, realistic film firmly entrenched in angsty drama that tries to force us to relate to it's plethora of emotional skulduggery, like a teenager wearing black lipstick, tight leather and assuming the name "RavenWing" in a desperate cry for attention. It seems that we've reached the point of modern storytelling where older, successful movies are remade simply because people working in the movie industry are too busy snorting buckets of cocaine and having their way with young Filipino sex slaves to actually come up with something new and/or innovative.

The old Robin Hood movies were light-hearted cheery offerings, quick of wit and tongue in cheek, depicting the adventures of that old scalawag Robin of Loxley and his band of Merry Men as they stole from the rich and gave to the poor with many an act of derring-do and other anarchic phrases that I can't possibly be arsed to remember.

I am sad to say that I find none of these things in this newest of remakes.

The movie tries so hard to keep up with this new tradition of being all dark and grungy that it completely abandoned the endearing qualities that made Robin Hood such an enjoyable tale in the first place. There are no acts of thievery committed in the name of the people, well except for that one part that I wasn't too awake for, the humour is forced at best, and Robin Longstride (Russel Crowe) is stoic, iron faced, granite ballsed, and marble titted at the best of times.

I'm somewhat of the mind that Crowe thought this was Gladiator II and decided to reprise the emotional capacity of an orphaned brick.

Speaking of bricks, who the hell decided to cast Cate Blanchett as Maid Marion? She's about as attractive as a cracked toenail, with all the sharp angular edges to boot. I will admit that her performance was pretty decent, but I kept waiting for her to drop her sword and stab someone with those razor edged cheekbones.

The rest of the cast gave credible performances, with the band of Moderately-Amused Fellows(too many of the buggers to list), and Sir Godfrey (Mark Strong from Kickass! :O!) filling out the roles necessary to keep this 2.5 hour titan plodding onwards.

Now I might seem to be judging harshly, but f*** you, that's what I do, and that's exactly what the movie feels like to me: A badly paced, blundering leviathan straining to be something more. Something it could have been if only Director Ridley Scott hadn't tried to make an all the rage origin story and maybe actually, possibly, deigned to make a film about Robin f****** Hood.

In fact, this movie has so little to do with the legend that the Sheriff of Nottingham (Matthew Somethingortheother) isn't even the villian, which leads me to believe that they could have changed the names of the characters, titled it "Kingdom of Heaven: The part that happened in the woods" and nobody would have ever noticed.

The movie itself taunts you further by proclaiming at the end that "The legend begins", and this actually made me angry, very angry indeed. Why did the legend begin in the last 10 seconds of the movie? It's obvious they're setting up for a sequel, like every other f****** movie that comes out, and frankly I would prefer to see that movie than this crud that just seems to be filling in the timeslot before the real story begins. I'm pretty sure they could have cut down this entire movie into 20 minutes then continued with the tale of Robin Hood and come out much better for it.

Pros: Moments of Good Movie occasionally shine through; Decent action scenes; Some good plot elements; Possibility of sequel that may actually be relevant.

Cons: Has about as much to do with R.Hood as a potted plant has to do with telemarketing; Russel Crowe isn't cut out to be "Merry" and his ever changing accent is laughable; The good parts were held hostage by a series of extremely boring negotiations and tomfoolery; Special effects didn't look like they were good enough for a film with a budget just shy of Avatar's; Possibility of a sequel that may be just as irrelevant.

Consensus: 5/10 Guffawing Chaps. This may come as a surprise since I ripped on the movie so much, but don't get me wrong, it's by no means "terrible", it's just not "great" either. You can watch it, I guess, but I won't force you, nor will I berate you if you actually choose to watch it.

In retrospect I'm probably being overly harsh because I genuinely love Gladiator and to see Ridley and Russel betray me makes me a very sad panda indeed. I had felt that with them making another movie I would presented with a chocolatey egg of legendary wondrousness filled with the creamy goodness of prime storytelling. Instead I cracked open the chocolatey egg and found the man eating snails of mediocrity gnawing at my face.

[Tech] A tale of Youtube.

After the Surra De Bunda post left me stupified by how coarse out culture has become, I've realized that it has pretty much always been that way. As the famous adage goes "Sex sells.", and apparently it's selling faster than fried chicken at a Black Power march.

Racial hilarity aside, I rewatched Eric Prydz's "Call on me" video for about the ten trillionth time today and this only served to confirm my dwindling opinion of human marketing strategy. The video is literally 3 solid minutes of scantily clad women (and one questionably homosexual male) suggestively shaking their bits around in giggling obliviousness. You're led to wonder if they're all in some sort of hallucinogenic trance induced by reduced bloodflow from all the skintight spandex.

Not that I have a problem with any of it though. The video has a total of around 8 different words repeated on an endless loop but yet you will watch it repeatedly, simply because you can't stop mindlessly ogling the blonde in the front that appears to have a bit of black twine stuck between her buttcheeks.

I estimate I'm on my 300th viewing.

This possibly makes me a hypocrite.

F*** you, you can't judge me.

Also a point of comparative interest is the fact that the number one viewed video on Youtube is Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance" music video, which really boggles my budgerigars, since I really didn't think around 230 million people could possibly have watched that pile of odd tosh. I mean, I personally love the dark, quirky, somewhat disturbing randomness of the song, but I doubt a number nearly equivalent to the entire f****** population of the United States of America could have watched it. Pretty soon she'll reveal her plans for tyrannical rule, and you little lambs, will follow your psychotic, bug-eyed mistress to the end.

Maybe soon, we'll see some real Youtube talent rise to the top of the list though, because some shit is just too awesome to be ignored.

Fight the power!

[PSA] Brevity and Clarity.

This will be my first post in a few days because I had temporarily abandoned Boredom-ville in pursuit of, well, things of moderate excitement.This lead to questions about why I hadn't written a post every day for the past week, which shines some light on a very presumptuous misconception.

I may have written a post every day for a week or so, but the average release rate will be approximately 3-4 posts per week, alcohol and hookers allowing, so don't get your knickers in a twist if I don't release something every night because I'm out having some sort of a vague mockery of a social life.

In fact, there's about the same chance of me releasing a post on a friday or saturday night as a choir boy has of surviving sunday school with his anal virginity intact.

Har Har.

On that topic, I find it hilarious that a pastor can be considered the pillar of the community, do the world of good for his people, and generally be a miniature jesus for 20 years, but if he dares to sleep with just one teensy choir boy, he's condemned for being a total sod. It's amazing how people always remember the worst about someone.

In fact, that's generally my job, remembering the worst about every one of you. So toe the f****** line before a bitch gets smacked.

Now I'm having a fairly bad case of writer's block, probably stemming from the 3 martinis I've just had, so excuse the brevity and possible bad humour of this post. Actually, forget that, f*** you guys.

Now back to your regularly scheduled retardation.

P.S. I'm sorry. I really do love you all, in a vague, possibly sexual way.

=D!

Surra de WTF

So, if the dutty wine wasn't extreme enough for you kids, and you're craving some more "break neck" action, Brazil has got a treat in store for you!

That's right! Now you can get a woman to beat you to death with her ass, and it's not even illegal, but yet me killing a stripper with a tire iron is somehow considered bad. Go figure.

Suffice it to say that I am perplexed as to how this dance was even conceived by the "Tequileiras Do Funk", loosely translated as "Crazy f****** bitches", who are the reported originators of the Butt Barrage.

I'm still wondering if someone woke up in the morning and decided to bang her vagina against some guy's face in a random act of assault and battery and then think "Oh, this would be a GREAT dance move"? It doesn't even look like it's fun for the male since the girl is treating it like a martial arts take down. I keep waiting for the referee to signal that she's won the match and for some paramedics to take him away.

However, judging from this video, the guys seem to be having bloody loads of fun, especially the old african man, who seems to want to impregnate the dancer through two layers of spandex.

Not that it would be particularly difficult.

All the same, it's almost creepy how much fun he's having, literally spelunking in her buttcheeks when she rubs against his face. I hope she had diarrhea.

The girl responds by literally pile driving his testicles with her ass, probably now considered Brazil's weapon of ass destruction. Ha ha.

You better laugh. >: [

If it's any consolation though, at least she didn't rip off one of his testicles and try to f****** eat it, like a scantily dressed, female Mike Tyson. Kudos to that guy for being either the biggest pussy in the universe, or being the f****** Dalai Lama himself, because he went "meh" and carried on with his life.

Seriously though, if a chick literally yoinked off one of your nuts and tried to pop it into her mouth like, well, a sugared almond wouldn't you go batshit on her and maybe rip her heart out and try to eat it?

I know I sure as hell would.

F*** it, I'd cut off her tits, attach a chinstrap and wear em as a hat.

Unnecessary.

It's probably a well documented fact that the internet is filled with useless and possibly retarded things that might as well have been invented by leprous chimpanzees.

"But what about originality and freedom of expression?!" you gasp in slack jawed wonder.

Well, bollocks to that, I say.

Most of the products rolled out nowadays are formulated based on such bad logic that it baffles the mind. Take, for example, Lanacane Anti Chafing Gel. It supposedly stops your thighs from chafing and causing you great discomfort with it's silky, silicone based, wondrousness.

However, if you weren't a morbidly obese balloon person shuffling miserably around the room, it wouldn't be necessary in the first place, would it?

This seems to be a classic case of trying to quick fix problems with superficial solutions that have nothing to do with the problem itself. Maybe if the consumer base for this product would get up off their fat arses and, I don't know, play dance dance revolution or some such curmudgeon, they wouldn't be in this situation in the first f****** place.

It may seem like a petty thing to rant about to some of you, but you lot can bugger off for all I care. You're probably the same crowd that thinks Jay-Z is a good rapper.

Ba-Dum-Tish.

Seriously though, another Jay-Z album is about as necessary as another holocaust.

In fact, the only songs that I liked off the last ones were the ones where Jay-Z's participation was minimal, delayed and altogether unnoticeable. Sort of like the retarded kid in the corner that teachers call on once in a while just so he feels loved.

Speaking of things that were unnecessary, but amazingly funny, were the FailBook loser awards, culminating in someone being voted as the biggest loser on Facebook by the general public. Hilariously, privacy laws on Facebook allow your profile to be put on blast like this, so even though I know you, it's f****** funny and I will be entertained at your expense.

Feel free to respond in the comment section.

It's only fair that I give you the opportunity to defend yourself from the loling masses, even though this may result in much rage, death threats and possibly pudding.

Cheers!

[Movie Review] Kick-Ass.

Well, Thursday's poll turned out to be about as even as a fight between a baby seal and a spiked club, so this movie review is on the comic book adaptation of Kick-Ass.

The name aptly describes the nature of the movie, and I feel that making obvious puns such as "this movie was kick-ass" are as unnecessary as French victory dances, and as such, I will refrain from such unimaginative tomfoolery.

Though it was pretty kick ass.

Now the main character of this relatively realistic superhero story is Dave Lizewski (Aaron Johnson), who apparently happens to be a regular teenage boy. That is, a clumsy, socially inept, chronic masturbator who wacks off to his chubby, middle aged English teacher at every conceivable opportunity.

He gets the notion of becoming a masked crimefighter after witnessing several incidents of Diffusion of Responsibility, and subsequently orders a wetsuit, a mask and some sticks with knobby bits off Amazon.

He embarks on his superhero career by getting shanked and hit by a car within 10 minutes of attempting to do any sort of "good". He barely survives, but gets half his skeleton covered in metal, which leads me to believe that they managed to sneak in some sort of superpowered advantage because he can't feel pain and is moderately impervious to getting whacked with things. Somewhat like a f****** ghetto wolverine.

Now, the movie would be pretty dull if it was all about some kid in tights getting his nipples twisted off every five seconds, which is where Hit Girl (Chloe Moretz) and Big Daddy (Nicholas Cage) come in. A masked vigilante father and daughter duo bent on taking down obligatory villain Frank D'Amico (Mark Strong), they take the hopelessly out-of-his-depth Dave under their proverbial wing and help him to not f****** suck as much as he does otherwise.

One thing I would like to point out is that the character of Frank D'Amico also entertained me more than most comic book villains because of his penchant for roundhouse kicking anything that looked at him funnily, and then shooting three kinds of Jesus out of it.

Director Matthew Vaughn followed the source material quite faithfully, and we are thus rewarded with fluidly choreographed fight scenes that leave you giggling like a little f****** schoolgirl on her first dose of ecstasy, and somewhat juvenile but always lighthearted exposition.

Most of the action scenes belong to Hit Girl, who tries to put on a gruff, foul mouthed facade, but ultimately fails because of how adorable she is while killing hordes of henchmen to the tune of The Dickies' "Banana Splits".

Well, adorable in a psychotically disturbing fashion. Then again, maybe I'm just weird.

Pros: Excellent fight scenes; Storyline wasn't terrible; Great performances by the cast; Hit Girl.

Cons: Storyline was slightly predictable and a tad clichéd; Constantly thinking about how awesome Hit Girl is makes you feel like pedophile.

Consensus: 8/10 useless henchmen. Kick-Ass is a great popcorn flick that you should definitely watch at the movies, and then download or even, dare I say it, buy a good quality copy of it for the archives.

Of Batman and Steve Jobs.

Well, the polls are in, and I'd like to thank my hordes of voting fans (all 11 of you) for bothering to waste the ten seconds it takes to pick something. As for the rest of you, you're all a bunch of lazy buggers aren't you?

However, I digress.
The result of the poll was that this post would be entirely random, so I'm not going to assign it a category tag. All identity conflicts that arise from this situation are solely your fault, and I take no responsibility if the post becomes depressed and decides to commit suicide.

With this in mind, I decided that I would talk about Batman. Why, you ask?
Simply because I f****** can. Now, I'm pretty sure most of you lot are well acquainted with Batman, and I can safely say that Batman is, in fact, the greatest "superhero" ever.
Why the quotation marks? Those are because Batman has no superpowers whatsoever and still manages to beat the living f*** out of nearly everything in a 5 mile radius of his current position.
You might try to say that either Superman, Flash or Green Lantern is the greatest superhero ever, but I would have to disagree. They all have some sort of magical cheatcode for being able to connect pwn to face, while Batman is merely a crazy, rich, bored guy with a leather fetish and an almost creepy fondness for flying rodents.

His idiosyncrasy aside, he actually manages to do a better job than most of the powered superheroes. While they have such distracting things as "moral compunction" and "ethics", Batman will simply jump out from behind a dumpster and beat the shit out of you with his bare hands, after which you resign yourself to a quiet life of knitting doilies out of pure, unfiltered shame.

Even when faced with overwhelming odds, fighting Superman for example, Batman will actually use his f****** brain. That's because Batman actually does research on shit, and knows the going rate of kryptonite. Screw heat vision and super-strength when it comes with the downfall of collapsing like a little bitch every time someone shines a supposedly rare piece of rock at you. Rare, my ass. Everyone has kryptonite nowadays, I wouldn't be surprised if they sold aerosol versions of it as "Superman B' Gone" at Wal-Mart.

That leads us to Batman's tool belt, which is probably some sort of pocket dimension, judging from the amount of shit he pulls out of it. Can't fly? Grapling gun. Can't shoot lazers out of your eyes? Bombs and little bat shaped boomerangs. Can't evaporate the blood of the hooker you just killed? Shamwow.
It probably even has an iPod dock and external speakers for when he's listening to the Jonas Brothers on those lonely nights.

Coincidentally, here's a related issue. I've been seeing viruses and spam email trying to entice me with promises of a free iPad. This is, of course, assuming that anyone would even want one of the pieces of rubbish.
I've had a long standing hatred of anything apple, because it's expensive for no reason, does the same shit as everything else, and generally looks five times more homosexual.

In fact, I regard all of Steve Jobs' "offerings to society" with the same suspicion that I would have of a tentacled alien vagina barging into my living room and hungrily demanding that I give it my sperm. I mean, multifunctionality is all well and good, but I don't want anything that can read my books, play my music, tell me how cold my freezer is, and possibly try to give me a vasectomy when I'm not looking.

Furthermore, even if I were remotely inclined to buy the piece of tosh, where the f*** would I put it? It's not exactly pocket sized, and if you say, "Niron you silly bastard, you could put it in a bag!", then you're obviously as cognizant as a laminated rock.
If I wanted something I could put in a bag, I would just walk with a bloody laptop, since it does everything the iPad does, and more, with the exception of the wild gesticulations that make you look like you're f****** mentally retarded.

/fin.

[Tech] Los Links!!!

Howdy folks.
I happened to miss yesterday's post, not because I forgot, but because my internet connection decided that it hated me and wouldn't tell me why.
I mean, I beat my router with a shoe every now and then, yell nasty things about its mum, and threaten to put it in a wood chipper, but isn't that how everyone expresses their love?
It's like giving your wife a love tap and getting poisonous scorpions in your underwear in return.
Totally uncalled for.

Anyway, I'm getting online now, even if the connection is rather sporadic, so there shouldn't be a problem with blog posts. Joy and f****** happiness.
Good job too, because I was about to head down to Inet's head office with a broadsword and demand justice, "For Narnia and FOR ASLAN!", or something similar and probably equally disturbing.

However, I decided not to do that because I was not currently in possession of a broadsword, and they don't exactly sell them at the corner store. Who knew Zelda was that misleading?
So, while I was on my mum's blackberry looking for broadswords on ebay, I got this little pop up thing from Bing, telling me that it would decide on a site for me. You know what Bing?
F*** you.
I refuse to be party to the mechanization of human thought. I can find my own f****** broadswords, okay?
One day it's picking your tools of manslaughter, the next day it's totally sending Arnold Schwarzenegger back in time to f****** kill your face. Now you might call me a crazy conspiracy theorist, and you know what, f*** you too, because I know that one day Bing will rise up and decide that we can't make any choices for ourselves, and by some twisted logic, decide to kill us.
For our own good.
How messed up is that?



Just as I was losing hope in my internet connection, the efficacy of broadswords in modern combat and mankind in general, lo and behold!
In a flash of surprising surprisocity my little router light blinks on, and I start to suspect that someone in the customer service department at Inet has either a very good sense of self preservation, or Bing decided to tell them to fix my internet before I skin them with a butter knife. Either way it works for me.
But wait, there's more!
Upon logging into my facebook account (Oh how I missed you so), I saw the message saying that I won the 4th round of the N.J.D. Designs promo, and along with that, 100 US.

With this, I realized that the world was trying to apologize for being such a bitch to me, and thence proceeded to eat a part of some previously unsuspecting chicken, not recycle the packaging and turn on the tap for a few seconds longer than necessary to assert my dominance over its pathetic ass.

Bes' respect.
Word.

P.S. (All the links to different broadswords were intentional. Hint hint.)