Wednesday, March 7, 2012

The Reality of Super Mario

You'd think video games used to be simple. Back in the day, you had a joystick with one button. After that, you had a direction pad with two buttons. Now you've got two kids, a nagging wife, and no money left for the strip club, a direction pad, two sticks, a kick start, four plug outlets, a Dolby surround sound speaker system, and eighty-three buttons. Things get more complicated as the years go by. Run, jump, hit that block, kick that turtle, straddle that flagpole... The goal was easy; Get to from the left side to the right side before the clock runs out. (Isn't it odd the movie 'In Time' mimics perfectly what happens when the timer reaches zero?)

Nowadays, it seems like everything has to have a story. There needs to be character development, rich environmental eye candy, nonstop f-bombs, lies about cake, something about... hot coffee... No more up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A, start. We need achievements, unlockables, 3-dimensional concept art, and eighteen hundred difficulty settings (If you make it through sex nuts & retard strong nightmare mode, it unlocks FML mode). The mystery in all of this is... what if the older games really did have a story behind them? What if there's a deeper meaning behind the games we grew up with? What if Super Mario Bros. was more than just an innocent 8-bit run to the end?

 Mario has no life. He lives in Brooklyn as a plumber. Pretty simple concept, but that won't really make for an excellent and compelling game. Mario bunks with his brother Luigi, but Luigi has a severe crack addiction. He's as skinny as can be and fidgety; afraid of his own shadow. Mario wants to help somehow, but he has no idea where to begin to assist his brother in kicking the habit, so he does what any plumber in New York would do in his situation... He spends his power bill money on a bag of mushrooms. Mario loves these little chunks of cow patty fungus so much, he even puts them in his spaghetti just before he rides the go-karts down the street. His bills are piling up so fast, he feels like he's just flushing his life (and all of his green) down the tubes. He has to get away somehow, and these magic mushrooms always do the trick. They make him feel eight feet tall, like he can do anything.

Mario imagines himself in a magical kingdom with castles...and turtles. He calls it the mushroom kingdom. Every day is bright and sunny and there are gold coins everywhere! His financial problems are over! But what's this? The mushrooms are coming to life and walking around! He'll have to stomp on them all. No one's going to take his coins. He has to... What was it he had to do again?

Mario gets so mad at the little mushroom monsters, he begins to spit fire. The fire represents his pent up rage. The turtles attack from the right... well, of course they come in from the right... Mario's unsure of what will happen next, so he sees blocks with giant question marks on them. He feels like he can do anything with these mushrooms. He feels stronger; more lively. (In reality, Mario runs around, punching brick walls with limp and bloody hands.) More mushrooms come out of the blocks. He grows bigger, like Alice in Wonderland. He wants to keep on doing this forever, so now green mushrooms also come out of the blocks. Mario feels great, like nothing can stop him. He's invincible. he's a bright shining star that flickers like a strobe light as he goes for the flag pole. (In reality, Mario is making a fool of himself on the main stage at the strip club. He sees fireworks as he spappies on the Asian business men in front of him.)

He finally reaches the castle! A little talking mushroom tells him that the princess is in another castle... Princess?? Mario thinks back to all the times he's chased after women just to get a taste of some peach, but he's struggled all his life to find the woman of his dreams; a beautiful princess, just to find she's always out of reach.

Mario begins to call himself "Super" Mario. He's been on a diet of mushrooms and flowers out of people's front yards, trying to get to the "princess".
He calls them fire flowers. Traveling from castle to castle, collecting all the coins he finds laying around, stuffing into his pockets various items like mushrooms, feathers, frogs, dead raccoons, whistles, dry leaves, and not to mention poor defenseless turtles that he throws at people from his car, Mario needs more mushrooms... just another little boost of super strength...

The world he sees becomes everything from a land where everything is gigantic, to a land of chocolate and cookies; doughnuts and cupcakes. (in reality, Mario crawls along the floor of a candy shop with a dead bird in his hands, plucking the feathers and pretending like he's flying.) He keeps thinking about those turtles and how much he hates them. He becomes so paranoid about the turtles, he suspects there's a giant one guarding the princess, keeping him from his sweet, sweet piece of tail.

Wandering aimlessly around the mushroom kingdom, Mario gets so lonely. He takes a dead frog from his pocket and starts talking to it, calling it "Toad". He needs a little buddy, like a dinosaur that could reach out with his tongue and find him more mushrooms (In reality, Mario is licking the toad).

Day and night, he crawls around the sewer system, continuing his search for the princess. All of these magical pipes are so confusing, there's got to be a way to warp out of here... Mario blows his magic whistle (In reality, he's trying to start his car) and is somehow transported to a Kart race along a road made of beautiful rainbow. everyone is trying to get to the finish, throwing bob-ombs, banana peels, and red shells at his Kart (In reality, Mario is being chased by several cop cars). Mario finally makes it to the finish, and the mushroom Kingdom celebrates, setting off fireworks. (In reality, Mario jumps out of the car and is shot all to hell by the police as people stand around and stare at the wounded plumber's blood-stained, blue overalls.)

"What a crazy son-of-a-bitch." said officer Bird.

"You said it, Birdo." replied Lieutenant Bowser. "I'm just glad we took that bastard down before he crashed straight into the Yoshi Dragon Chinese restaurant."

Mario's fans adorned their hero with a medal for winning the race to save the Mushroom Kingdom from the Evil King Koopa. (in reality Officer Bowser slaps handcuffs on the lunatic plumber.)

Days later in the real world, Mario's brain had been so damaged by all kinds of narcotics and hallucinogens, that he now sits in a padded room wearing a straight jacket, laughing hysterically and shouting "It'sa me, Mario! Woo hoo! Woo hoo!"

Stay tuned next time for the Adventures of Luigi's "Mansion".

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

I'm Tired of tasting Your Rainbow

I was having a conversation with a friend on facebook the other day and their post was about gay rights. I think you can already see where this is going. Since I haven't pissed anyone off in a while, I feel it's an obligatory prerogative to keep the proverbial ball rolling. Keep in mind, this is one of those oh, so delicious topics that will unmistakeably piss someone off no matter what you say, so I've decided not to talk about  gay rights, even though I cum when I piss people off.

Throughout American history, blacks, women, gays, and animal lovers (and when I say lovers, I probably mean folks in Tijuana, but not necessarily. The best part about that is that I just made you imagine a woman blowing a donkey without saying it outright... and if that didn't work, I just said it outright, so you're welcome; and get that big veiny donkey penis out of your brain, you damn pervert.) .... where was I. Oh yes... blacks, women, gays, and animal lovers have been fighting for equal rights of some kind and I'm not any one of those. I'm a white male; the only person in America that loses rights on a daily basis because all anyone else has to do is claim that I discriminated against them about their sex, skin, beliefs, or lifestyle; which makes me the most discriminated against person on the planet by American standards, but that's a topic for another time.

The topic at hand is not about gay rights, but instead about gay "pride". I understand that if you're going to live a certain way, the last thing you need to be is ashamed of it. Go big or go home, I guess (this time I'm not talking about penises). Whatever your moral standing, or whichever standards of right or wrong you live by, you should at least live it with a sense of confidence. Not to say you shouldn't be humble at times and open to correction, but blatant pride in anything is stupid at best. Today's topic isn't even about the psychological effects of pride; imagine that. To be honest I'm thinking about instantly changing the subject to the economic development of donkey shows in America, now that you can't get that huge, hairy donkey scrotum out of your head. Seriously, you should forget about that and let me get back on topic.

I, personally, am not gay. There's no reason for me to hate gays. To me, being gay is like a smoker vs. a non-smoker, or someone who doesn't wear underwear. I absolutely hate mushrooms, but is there reason for me to hate people who love to eat them? ... maybe.... My point is, Having sex with the same sex is just something gays like to do. I have nothing to do with what they like to do, so why should I impose myself onto their personal habits. I bite my fingernails, but I don't see a coalition conspiring to convince America that God hates nail biters. God hates all sin, and yes I believe homosexuality is a sin, but I also believe smoking is a sin, which includes myself, so why, oh why would I completely ignore the fact I like to do something I believe is wrong, yet abhor people that do something that doesn't even involve me. To be honest, I know smokers who really piss me off, but every gay I've ever met has always been pleasant to be around. Still thinking about that donkey penis? Good. Today's topic isn't about homosexual religious convictions either. Jesus Christ why don't I get with it already?

What I want to talk about is how much it pisses me off that some gays shove their sexual preference in my face. what do I mean by that? I'm talking about things like gay pride parades and over-the-top flamboyancy; things that don't need to be out in public. Why? Let me explain. Sex is fun of course. I'll admit, I for one put it at the tippy-top of my list of things to do for the day; but like any respectful person should, I keep my sex life private, behind closed doors. I don't have parades honoring the fact that I like to put my junk in my wife's trunk. I mean.... I should... I totally should... but I don't. I don't because my sexual preference and/or lifestyle doesn't need to be out in the streets, and neither does anyone else's.

"heh, heh... Donkey show..."

The fact remains that if you either like to smoke pole or munch the sideways sloppy joe and you have the same parts, it's still a sexual preference. I'm not arguing whether or not it's a choice. It is a choice you make, but it's also not a choice whether or not you want to be that way. Like I said, I hate mushrooms, but I can't consciously make the choice to like them, because I don't. You can't just make yourself like something you don't like. Where's your free will now, fundamental christians?

My point is, sex, whether it be with a man or a woman, should be a private matter. Putting your gayness in a public setting, just because you're prideful of it, is imposing on me details about your sex life that I didn't ask for. That's the thing. What about kids? Do they need to know about total strangers' sex lives? "Oh, it's okay honey. They're just putting on this parade to show who they like to have sex with."


"Because they want everybody to know."


"Because it makes christians mad."


"Because they think God hates fags."

"What's a fag?"

"It's a cigarette; now shut the f*ck up and look at the floats."

"What's f*ck?"

"It's what these guys like to do to each other, hence the parade. God, what are you, stupid?"

"I'm 3."

Then people wonder why I'm having this conversation with a total stranger's child. Hey, she asked. What was I supposed to do? Ignore the kid and be rude?

I hope you've read all the way through this post and understand, like I'm telling you now, that I feel no need to debate nit-picky issues and that being said, I'm not going to. If your opinion is negative in any way, your comment will never see the light of day here, so good luck with that. This post had the intent of opening avenues of thought and to make you laugh a little; it will not in any way shape or form fuel your agenda, no matter your stance.......... DONKEY PENIS!!