Blast from the Past: Braid Liveblog

Sorry for not having posted anything in a while. I’ve been busy and sick and also I forgot to log onto my web site. I’ll have something a bit more substantial soon, but for now, I’m reposting something I did ten years ago.

Explanation: I had worked an overnight shift at my old job. And when I came home, Braid had just been released on the XBox Live Marketplace. And I had been dying to play this. Not because I thought the game would be good, but because every dickhead in indie games wouldn’t shut the fuck up about how it would literally change your life once you played it. Yeah, even a decade ago, I had a fairly antagonistic relationship with indie games. So, for the $15 or whatever, I downloaded the game, and liveblogged my experience with it. The plan was to play it until the number of energy drinks I had to stay awake at work wore off.

So, after digging through the Internet Wayback Machine, I found it. Take a look. And for the record, my praise for MGS4 and Bioshock were sarcastic, yes.

Okay so I just worked an overnight shift at my job. It’s currently 3:30 in the a.m. I am hyped up on so many energy drinks it’s not even funny. And right now I’m downloading the demo for Jon Blow’s Braid.

WILL IT CHANGE MY LIFE AND MY VERY PERCEPTION OF SAID LIFE FOREVER!? It fuckin’ better cause if not I’ll be saying lots of Very Bad Things on the Internet.

Impressions to come.

The Intro: ahahahahahaha fuck this game

The Game: WELL I’M SURE GLAD THAT CHANGED MY LIFE. Actually oh wait no it didn’t it’s just a generic platformer with:

“TIM NEEDED TO BE NON-MANIPULABLE. HE NEEDED A HOPE OF TRANSCENDENCE. HE NEEDED, SOMETIMES, TO BE IMMUNE TO THE PRINCESS’S CARING TOUCH.”

what.

I would much rather play Space Giraffe than this. And I fucking hate Space Giraffe.

Games that are better than Braid (besides Space Giraffe):

-Metal Gear Solid 4
-Bioshock

Goddamn this asshole swims around in his own ego and refers to himself in the third person for three years like he’s Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson or something and this is the game we get? Man someone needs to lay the smack down on his ass.

IF YOU SMELL WHAT THE ROCK IS COOKIN’

“Our world, with its rules of causality, has trained us to be miserly with forgiveness. By forgiving too readily, we can be badly hurt. But if we’ve learned from a mistake and become better for it, shouldn’t we be rewarded for the learning, rather than be punished for the mistake?”

Fuck me this is like the help instructions from The Sexuality Life Dynamic.

Okay just so no one accuses me of not “getting it,” I’m gonna go ahead and buy the full game just so I can say fuck Jon Blow and his lack of talent and his exceptional knack for making regular people (otherwise known as Mainstream Gamers) look like drooling nincompoops and making the Indie Gaming community out to look like a bunch of fucking luddites pushing an Us vs Them mentality because Halo blzblz.

Actually nevermind. I forgot that the 360 doesn’t take real money like the PS3 does. I have to buy those stupid ass points for a 1,200 point video game. And because the only two nearby options are “1000 points- $12.50″ and “2000 points- $25.00″ I’d have to spend twenty five fuck dollars on this shit. That’s like half the cost of Siren: Blood Curse, and that was an actual video game! And it was actually really good!

Counting down until the inevitable “MICROSOFT DIDN’T GIVE US ENOUGH MONEY BOO HOO” interview that pretty much every indie dev on the 360 does.

You climb on fences like in Super Mario World.

It’s too bad David Hellman is such a good artist because this game is ass.

Jonathan Blow Presents: THESAURUS THE VIDEO GAME.

You know what I guess he was right. This game really did blow my mind. Because it seriously takes a lot to actually offend me with a bad video game and this definitely offends the hell out of me.

I’m going to predict THE INTERNET’S reaction to this game: “This game is so amazing look at me I’m too cool to enjoy Gears of War!”

THE ROCK SAYS KNOW YOUR DAMN ROLE

Fucking goofy ass looking ego tripping motherfucker ill piss in his fucking face if i were to see him in person

dammit i have the rocks theme song stucki n my head now

MAN

man

shit its four am going to bed now

a careful, logical response to jesse singal’s latest article

It’s dumb fucking bullshit written by a bigoted asshole. He’s a dumbshit ass moron chaser who writes these useless thinkpieces because he gets mad at himself for getting a boner while looking at Bailey Jay. Again. He deserves the Richard Spencer treatment of being knocked the fuck out by a solid right hand in full view of the public. And hey, allies: if you want to show that your activism and support isn’t just performative, you’ll want to get in on that action, too. Though, given how many of you are still trying to find new and exciting ways to label Chelsea Manning a nazi, and mocking her suicide attempt, I fucking doubt it. And I also doubt it, given how you didn’t listen to us when we told you that Singal was shit years ago. Or Graham Linehan. Or Jordan Peterson. Or about the far-reaching implications of so many right-wing names entrenching themselves in Gamergate. So we’ll just end up being the canary in the coal mine for yet another dipshit that you’ll all love and respect, until it’s no longer profitable to do so. So feel free to fuck off, instead.

cultural confession #1

Last month, there was that whole “Mermay” thing, where artists draw all different types of mermaids, mostly gay mermaids. Which is nice. Not really a thing that I’m personally into a whole lot, but it’s cool for everyone who is. But what’s the point of this post is hearing my friend Gabi talking about how mermaids were something of a coping mechanism for her; how she discovered things about her gender and sexuality. Which is something that kind of stuck with me; she’s much younger than I am, so there’s something of a generational gap between us, but it’s not as though there was no mermaid related content for my childhood self to be influenced by. Like The Little Mermaid, a movie I must have seen dozens of times as a kid.

So I had to really sit down and think: what was it that got me into the whole “queer/trans” thing?

Turns out I didn’t have to think for very long, because it’s something that has influenced by art and general “aesthetic.”

Magical girls!

Sailor Moon was on the air when I was a kid (station UPN 20, channel 3 on your cable box), and it was a big massive deal for me. Though, I was about seven years old, and had zero understanding of gender other than “boys and girls are different,” so I didn’t really understand why I loved watching that show so much. I just knew that I did, but I also knew that I had to keep it a secret; it was a girl’s show, and I was already getting beaten up at school enough without adding that to the reasons why.

Now while that was great, what really pushed me over the edge, so to speak, was when I somehow got an issue of Diehard Gamefan Magazine. You may remember Gamefan as a magazine known for having really great page layouts, and a dedication to covering import games, before completely imploding because the higher ups were all racist dickheads who were bad with money. Anyways, this particular issue had a three-page spread for the Sega Saturn game, Magic Knight Rayearth. Now, I had no idea that it was based on an anime, or even what an anime was, but something about those screenshots hooked me. I saw three cool looking girls fighting monsters, and it was the most appealing thing in the world. Of course, as I got older, I started to figure it all out; how it all would later play a role in being queer. Magical Girls are fucking awesome. They are my mermaid.

But this is a post called “cultural confession,” and here’s the confession: I’m 31 years old, going on 32, and I still have not watched more than one episode of Rayearth, and I’m still only partway through the Saturn game. You would think that with this series being so integral to my identity, I would have this encyclopedic knowledge of it. But I don’t. I am one of those fake gamer girls who doesn’t know shit about nothing! I keep telling myself that I’ll finally sit down one day and binge-watch the whole series. Maybe that will be a goal to reach before the end of the year?

ARCHIVE: Special Agent Francis York Morgan Enters The Battlefield!

[Ramona’s note: didn’t date this, but these were all done towards the end of 2014]

Zach, is that who I think it is? Of course! Anybody these days will recognize that blue fur as belonging to Sonic the Hedgehog. His first game was released by Sega, back in 1991. A good year for video games. Did you know that, although this was his first game, it wasn’t his first appearance? He actually debuted as a car ornament in a racing game called Rad Mobile! Certainly a humble start.

I was the kind of gamer who preferred the slower, more methodical pace of the Super Mario Brothers. But you, Zach? Yeah, you really loved to watch that little guy run so fast. You once played the whole game three times in a single sitting, transfixed on Sonic’s every move. His bright colors and “in your face” attitude really exemplified the spirit of the 90s, didn’t it?

Well, exemplified what advertisers thought the 90s were about, anyway. All that slang! “Dude!” “Radical!” “Don’t have a cow, man!” Hmm, it’s a little silly to think about nowadays, I think. Maybe once this case is over, Zach, we’ll dig our old Sega Genesis out of the closet and and give Sonic another run. I can’t wait.

Careful, Zach! That’s the man who defeated Mike Tyson in his prime! A shame that the game he starred in didn’t even have his name in the title. Sorry, Little Mac, but “Mike Tyson’s Punch-Out!” will sell more copies, it seems.

But what an inspiring story Punch-Out was, Zach! An unknown boxer, rising through the ranks, and defeating the heavyweight champion in his prime, despite being in a smaller weight class! Sure, it just sounds like the story of “Rocky,” but WE were the ones doing the fighting this time!

Mike Tyson was later removed from the game by Nintendo. The popular story is that Tyson was removed after being convicted of rape. Sadly, Zach, the real story is always much more mundane than the wild theories we love to create. Nintendo just didn’t renew their agreement with Tyson after the world saw him humiliated by James Douglas. His mystique vanished shortly after that fight, and he went from unstoppable God of Boxing to a mere man from that point. A reminder that even the best can have everything come crashing down around them at a moments notice. I hope the same happens to our “Raincoat Killer.”

Let’s talk about a gaming classic, Zach. “Duck Hunt” released in 1984. We didn’t get it in America for another year, of course. You remember the sound of the trigger on the NES Zapper, don’t you? A satisfying “click!” Oh, that takes me back…

Sorry, I’m trailing off again. Duck Hunt was surprisingly a lot of fun, despite being so simple. Just shoot the ducks. A morbid concept turned into pure joy. Ha ha, I remember you always picking up the second controller and making the ducks fly away from wherever I was aiming. We got into a lot of ridiculous arguments, didn’t we, Zach? Maybe it’s true that video games cause violent behavior, after all!

One thing I’ve never quite understood, though: all the people who wanted to shoot that dog. Who wants to shoot a dog? Dogs are much more valuable than we humans realize, Zach. Being in the bureau, we’ve become so used to seeing police dogs; so angry, so vicious. The Id of humanity’s dark underside. We have to remember that dogs are our friends too, you know. Which reminds me, we need to get those bones back from our good friend, “Deputy” Willie, the games master.

talking about my bad brain

There’s something I’ve been meaning to write about for some time now. And the main reason I’ve put it off for some long was because of the feelings of loneliness and the inability to trust people. But some of that is starting to subside, so I thought I would take some time to write about dealing with depression and bi-polar. A fair bit of warning, aside from the usual content warnings that come with a frank discussion of your weaker moments, I’m also in the midst of actually having an episode, so please pardon if I start rambling off-topic or if I fuck up my typography.

So, to start: living with this shit fucking sucks. There’s nothing fun, or glamorous, or, for fucks sake, romantic about living with an illness that will constantly try to kill you from the inside. Those positive feelings: love, joy, basic fucking happiness, are only temporary. The rest of the time? I’m sad, and prone to depressive episodes. I’m constantly upset, to the point of uncontrollably sobbing, or worse, flying into a total rage, screaming and yelling at nothing. And I’m not going to lie, I have definitely been suicidal, and I have attempted it more than once. I have this body horror-like disease where my brain is at constant odds with my body, and will create lies that will make my body want to destroy itself.

For example, and I’m not saying this to brag or anything like that: people like the things that I do. They like my essays. They like my artwork. They like my jokes and political commentary. They like me, for whatever fucked up reason. But I can never see it that way. It doesn’t matter how much praise I get, or what kind of compliment I receive, I know, I know, in my heart of hearts that it’s all bullshit. That people are simply being nice to me. They know as much as I do that my work sucks, and that I’m an extremely shitty person, but they don’t want to say it out loud. And I know, every morning when I wake up, that this is it: today is the day everyone will finally get tired of humoring me, they’ll all find out at once that I’m a fraud, and a piece of shit, and leave. And if they don’t, then I’ll have one too many episodes and drive them away myself. I can never let myself be happy; to live in the moment. And that misery and that frustration is what leads to the ideation and desire to push people away.

And of course the irony is that without my support network, I definitely would not be alive. What would be the point of going on, if I didn’t have a partner who showed me that even someone like me was capable of being loved? If I didn’t have friends that I knew that I could turn to in moments of complete desperation, when I can no longer hold everything in, and present a stoic image in order to help others? One of the symptoms of BPD is extreme empathy, and if I can’t help others, then I feel useless as fuck, to the point of physical pain at times. And I hear my friends or my girlfriend having problems, and I try my best to be that helping hand, and then completely break down when they’re not around when I’m not able to help, never asking for any help for myself in return. Mostly because I never feel as though my issues even compare to theirs, and I feel as though I’m insulting people by asking them to put aside time for me: the fraud, the horrible asshole who gets mad all the time and pretends to be more talented than they actually are. And then I feel emotionally manipulative to even bring up “hey, I’m not doing well, and I’m scared that I’ll be too crazy for you to want to be around, and I don’t want to lose you.” So I live with this perpetual catch-22 of needing support, but not wanting to be a burden. And I’ve spent the last couple of hours being terrified about this.

Like, there is no good reason I should be feeling this way. I was having so much fun with people last night, and then again earlier today. But, like I said, I can never be happy for too long. Now I’m trying to type this shit out with tears in my eyes, knowing that at some point, they’re all going to leave me. And how do I know this? Fuck, I don’t know, but it has to happen, because I have an internal monologue that helpfully reminds me on a frequent basis that I don’t deserve good things. That I don’t deserve to be happy, and hell, I don’t even deserve to be alive. And this is a fight that I’m constantly in, and have nearly lost. And it would be cool as hell to say that I’ll finally win someday, but, that’s not true. I’ll live with this for the rest of my life. It will never go away, no matter what medications I take, or what exercises I do, or whatever else.

Mauro Ranallo, an amazing sports commentator/mental health advocate said that “Mental illness is a life sentence. But it does not have to be a death sentence.” And, that stuck with me. Like, I don’t actually want to be dead. I just don’t want to live like this, being a fucking burden that adds to everyone else’s problems of having to keep an eye on me so I don’t do something stupid. I know that if I were to actually go through with things, I would hurt a lot of people, which is the last thing I want to do. I care about the people in my life too much to do something like that. And there are days where the only thing- literally the only thing, that keeps me from harming myself, or taking my own life, is them. And then that too ties into the whole “emotional manipulation” thing. Like I’m implying that if they’re not my friend, then I’ll be dead, and it’ll be on their hands, even though it absolutely would NOT be.

I don’t even really remember why I started doing this post. Maybe it was simply to vent. Maybe sharing my story will help someone who feels the same way? I don’t know.

ARCHIVE: Good Games Frogs

[Ramona’s note: this was originally posted on 5/17/2016]

There have been video games. And almost as long as there have been video games, there have been frogs in them. Frogs are good. Everybody loves frogs. Why don’t you love frogs?

Frog from Chrono Trigger

Chrono Trigger is a good game. It’s a game with a frog in it. Not only that, but a frog that you can play as! I like him. He’s a sweet boy who tries hard. How much of a frog is he? His name is Frog.

Frog from Symphony of the Night

I love this game. But you can’t play as this frog. It drops a pizza when you kill one sometimes, and it hangs out in a cave with a sweet jazzy tune. They’re hard to hit, especially if you play the XBox 360 version. Why would you play that version?

Kero Blaster

Kero Blaster is a game by the guy who made Cave Story, a seminal Indie Games classic known for its endearing characters, wonderful art and music, and excellent level design. This somehow influenced EA programmers and creepy nice guys to make their own games about pining after a girl they saw at Starbucks once. Kero Blaster is a frog with a gun, and Kero is Japanese for Frog, I think. And I love guns, because I’m American, and I love frogs. This is a frog.

Frog from Rumble Roses

Despite being a big-titty anime game about women wrestlers, there’s a frog in it, too! This frog sucks up people like a vacuum and spits them out. It’s cool. I wish I could be a woman, like the women in this game. A woman who rides on a killer frog. Frogs are wonderful and nice.

Kerotan from Metal Gear Solid 3

Kerotan is the only frog that isn’t real. It’s a toy. 64 toys. You shoot 64 frog toys and you can turn invisible afterwards. Don’t you want to be invisible? To hide from the world and it’s continuing horror? Just you, me, and the frogs. Hideo Kojima loves frogs, too. Almost as much as he hates women and homosexuals. Maybe he should be the one who is invisible, instead. Don’t taint my frog friends with your hate!


I hope you all enjoyed the game frogs. Let’s hope for more frogs in the new year!

Except Frogger. He’s a chump.

5/30/2018: the dark souls of blog posts

I got the Dark Souls remaster on Friday. And it’s a good game. It looks nice. The framerate isn’t a kneecapped nightmare. And, you know, it’s Dark Souls. Any excuse to replay one of the best games ever made is a-okay with me.

But, there is a problem with the remaster: in the seven years that Dark Souls has been out, and all the years where subsequent entries in the series have been released, From Software still cannot figure out how to not have incredibly shitty online components to these games.

Every Soulsborne game is the same this way: you’re going along, having a great time exploring the world, overcoming massive challenges and making progress in satisfying ways. Then the game sends you a warning

xXFUCKNUT-420Xx has invaded!

and the next thing you know, someone with a folder full of 4chan memes, clad entirely in Havel’s armor set teleports like Nightcrawler, instantly killing you with a critical hit from several feet away. And Lord Help You if you join one of the PvP covenants (shout out to the Darkmoon Blades) and fight other players intentionally. Gaining rank and increasing the power of the magic spell Gwyndolin gives you becomes an exercise in tedium and frustration, as an hour or so goes by and you only have two Souvenirs of Reprisal because getting into a duel where the latency is at least manageable is a rare find.

There comes a point where this kind of shit is inexcusable. This isn’t some small-time indie game: this is a guaranteed million seller, published by a major company, that can be bought at any major retailer in the country. You can buy Dark Souls Remastered at Wal-Mart; you don’t need to give your credit card number to a shady import retailer. And it was published by Namco, the same company that released Tekken 7, a game with netplay that’s probably as good as you’re going to find in a video game. And you’re telling me that they couldn’t pull out a couple of servers that aren’t barely held together with pre-chewed gum for Dark Souls?

You could’ve excused this back in 2009, when Demon’s Souls was a game that was on the verge of cancellation, and had to be shopped around to multiple publishers because nobody wanted to take a chance on it. The resources to make a major selling point of the game not a pain to deal with weren’t there. But not in 2018, with all the stuff I just mentioned in play.

And that’s what sucks, and brings down what is otherwise an awesome re-release: an entire aspect of the game is completely fucked. How can I make the guilty pay the price when the guilty have mastery over time and space?

Otherwise, the game is great. But seriously, FromSoft, fix your fucking internet.

5/16/2018

Shit’s been fucking weird, man. I’ve been having all these mental health flare-ups and depressive episodes and stuff. And then, through all of that, I somehow ended up with a girlfriend? Life makes no sense.

Yeah, you heard that right. The “Lonely Frontier” is now slightly less lonely. And anyone who has been following my exploits on social media (which will probably be all of you, since the only time anyone will see this post is when I inevitably post a link to it) will know that I have been a big, blustery, embarrassing mess of gay emotion. Like, yeah, hey, there’s a girl that I am in love with, and it’s pretty bitchin’. Go give her a follow, why not.

But I’m not here to brag about my romantic status. I’m actually here to bring down the mood, and be real. Real Talk.

Before all this, I was fucking miserable. I refused to date, because I was afraid of making someone else deal with my problems. Ironically, having someone here has managed to make things a little bit easier. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not suddenly cured of all my ills because of a girl, but that emotional support that I’ve been lacking for so long has been really great.

And, on top of that, it’s been years. Just, years of shit. Years of abuse. Years of not being able to trust people because they’ll probably stab me in the back, and then they did. Years of cultists telling the world how horrible and evil I am and that I’m literally Hitler if Hitler was even worse than Hitler. The fallout from all the Crash Override shit. I have spent all this time being utterly and thoroughly convinced that I was incapable of being loved. That my name was too toxic. That any association with me was fatal to a persons social identity, if not possibly their actual physical safety. That maybe I was just too crazy to be around. A person like me obviously doesn’t deserve love, right? In some circles, even contemplating that would be considered an offense.

When it became official; that I was now in a relationship, I did the dorkiest thing possible, and just broke down and cried. And not because I was sad, far from it. I wasn’t used to being so happy. I wasn’t used to thinking that I deserved better than what I had before. It still feels surreal at times. Talking to her late at night, and then my brain helpfully reminds me, “hey, that’s your girlfriend!” And then I get really happy.

Thank you, Madeline. I love you.

ARCHIVE: top ten video game dudes i want to bang me in the butt

[Ramona’s note: this was originally posted back in August 2017]

I read this list earlier in the week on some website that I already forgot about. It was a top ten list of hot male video game characters. It was obviously went to be in jest and not, like, a real thing, which is why it had a bunch of lame ass marks on it.

I’m going to make my own. But like, for real. Because I mean, fuck it, this is my website and I’m bored and I can post whatever I want on here. Let’s do this.

 

10. McCree

Despite getting a 100% completion in multiple Metal Gear titles, I’m not normally into the whole “gruff hairy dude who smokes” look. Smoking is gross as hell. But McCree is pretty, uh, pretty though. Like, he’s such an obvious poser; you can tell at a glance that his whole “cowboy” gimmick is just that, and that his knowledge of country music is limited to “Rhinestone Cowboy” and the soundtrack to Fallout: New Vegas. It’s endearing, and he’s definitely a sensitive guy underneath all that tough guy bullshit.

 

9. Dante (DmC)

I’m pretty sure nobody actually liked the Devil May Cry reboot except for me and like two other people. I don’t give a fuck, it was good. And the new Dante was multiple degrees hotter than Capcom’s original. This is like the one time I’ve ever made an exception for the whole “hot guy all beat up” look that’s all over Tumblr. Like, fuck dude, look at him. Personality wise, he’s probably the kind of guy that demands you watch “Eraserhead” on the first date and flips if you don’t have an encyclopedic knowledge of Vampire Weekend, but it doesn’t matter because the dick is bomb and you’re not going to stick around for long.

 

8. Lee Chaolan

The last time I’ve actually played as Lee since like 2005 was the two rounds in Tekken 7’s shitty story mode. I should probably start learning his combos or something, because I like looking at him. I mean, he’s hot. He’s a hot older dude. A fucking DILF. He’s come a long way from his fucked up looking Tekken 2 renders, and his new outfit makes him look like the star of a local Host Bar. And I’m sure Lee is one of the only guys on this list that would totally eat your ass without you needing to say anything first.

 

7. K’

I’m not very good with K’ in any of the King of Fighters games I’ve played. Though, to be fair, I’m not good at KOF games in general. But of all the hot boy protagonists in that series, he’s the only one that isn’t boring as fuck or some sort of blood-thirsty weirdo who breathes smoke. Also the leather. I’m not a super leather freak, but that jumpsuit really does it for me.

 

6. Kuja

Confession: I never finished Final Fantasy IX, so I don’t know much about Kuja’s character. I did however, spend a lot of time during my trip to Santa Clarita back in 2012 playing Dissidia 012 and staring at his bulge. I don’t know, I want him to bang me in the butt.

 

5. Benimaru Nikaido

Yeah, I definitely main Benimaru when I play KOF. But I really got into him while playing a ton of Capcom vs SNK 2 on my PS2, even though he wasn’t exactly a high tier character. He’s got the crop top, the tight pants, the swimmer physique. It should start becoming clear that I have a type: wispy effeminate dudes who will totally scream uncontrollably after you starting putting your fingers into their buttholes. Benimaru seems like he would do that after the first finger goes in.

 

4. Alucard

My second video-game boycrush. He’s this elegantly-dressed, inhumanly beautiful man who doesn’t give a fuck. He’ll take you out dancing. You don’t even like dancing; it makes you nervous. You step on his feet all the time and look like a fool. But it doesn’t matter, because he looks you in the eyes, leans over and whispers some encouraging words in your ears, and the unintentional ASMR takes over and now you’re a human-shaped jello mold.

 

3. Leon Kennedy

You need to get yourself a man who can still make wisecracks and still even think of a love life, despite spending over a decade dealing with Cronenberg-esque body horror and weirdos selling him guns kept underneath their coats. Shit that would put a normal man into a lifetime of therapy and placed into a licensed persons care. He still has the GQ model hair, and (again) the swimmer physique and the form fitting clothes and I’m having a hard time typing because I keep looking up at this fanart I just posted above.

 

2. Raiden

Fuck the haters, Raiden is hot as fuck. He was hot in MGS2, and he was hot when got turned into a cyborg in MGS4, and then when he got turned into even more of a cyborg in Metal Gear Rising. He’s running around, grunting and sweating in that skin-tight suit that outlines every inch of his body. Raiden was literally designed from the ground up to be this smoking hot stud that made you want to lick ice cream off his chest. Plus, it’s canon that he has a large penis, even while flaccid. Now, I am no size queen by any stretch, but sometimes you just need to see a dick that intimidates you.

 

1. Cloud Strife

And here he is: Number One. It’s Cloud. Of course it would be Cloud; Final Fantasy VII is my favorite game of all time. It was the first time that Younger Me even gave consideration to a man being attractive. He is the reason I have The Type that I do. Plus, you could also be mean and domineering, making him wear the dress and have him do humiliating things that totally turn him on despite his protests. Besides, it’s not we all don’t already know that he totally moans like a girl when he cums, anyway.

 

Honorable Mentions:
Ash Crimson (King of Fighters)
Ashley Riot (Vagrant Story)
Pretty much every other Final Fantasy character
Soma Cruz (Castlevania)
Vega (Street Fighter)
Shulk (Xenoblade)

meteroids

I’ve been going through some of my old posts on here (remember, I have all of my original blog posts still in a private archive), looking for anything that had value. Things where I showed off some sort of creativity, or I was funny, or something that wasn’t just me complaining about things that give me PTSD nowadays. I’ll be reposting some of these entries over time, until they’re all done.

This one is from all the way back in June 28, 2011. Jesus, almost seven years ago (I have posts dating all the way back to 2008). Actually, this is two posts in one. The first part of this was a part of my “dream journal,” where I write about the crazy shit I dream about, and am able to clearly remember when I wake up, and then also remember to write down. So, let me just copy/paste the dream part in this block quote first.

I’ve been having these dreams lately. The events are always different, yet the setting is constant and the characters are always the same people, but with larger or smaller roles in the story each night. These dreams are not even remotely nightmarish, yet they still bother me for whatever reason. Here are a few of the more memorable ones.

I’m back at my old high school. Despite my age (twenty-three), I’m a student enrolled here. My classmates are either blank-faced extras who exist simply to exist; to fill empty space, or former co-workers. None of the actual students I went to school with have ever appeared. I have a schedule that I have to follow, with classes to attend and assignments to work on. Due to my inconsistent dreaming, I don’t actually know what my classes are, where they are, or what I’m supposed to be doing. I tend to just follow a group of people into the nearest room and play things by ear.

We’re in an English class now. We’re all asked to hand in a piece of writing. I manage to make a paper copy of something from this site at the last second and give it to our teacher. Confident, I turn to one of my classmates and ask her how well she thinks she did. She laughs at me and points to the teacher. The teacher tells me that what I have is promising, and that I have lots of potential. She is lying to me. I can see over her shoulder and see in large, bold red ink:

THIS SUCKS
FAIL

Classes have let out for the day, so it’s time for me to get to work at my new job: homicide detective for the NYPD. Strangely, the case I’m trying to solve is the murder of my own partner. My investigating prowess seems like it could use some work; I ask one witness the same question five times. It works though, and now I have a new lead at a small diner across the street from an elementary school. The only thing I find here is the ghost of my former partner, who only winks at me.

I’m back in school. This time the class (which I later said to myself, “is a class I don’t go to very often, since I can never remember where it is”) is going to watch a film for the entire hour. The “film” is actually just a breaking news story about the death of my partner, followed by a book review of The Great Gatsby. I have no interest in this, and I also notice that the teacher has vanished. I take this opportunity to take my leave. On my way out, the girl I spoke to in my English class bumps into me. It seems that she’s being harassed by a fellow student: some dumb kid with bad fashion sense who seems to think that he’s God’s Gift to Women. He tries to put his hand on her shoulder. Instead, I, uncharacteristically, violently grab him by the wrist and tell him that, “if you don’t leave her alone, I’m going to fucking kill you, you dumb prick!” He puts on a tough guy act, calling me a bitch and a faggot and trying to shove me. I ignore him and escort the girl away.

I run into this kid three more times. Each time, he has a new henchman with him. This henchman then tries to goad me into a fight. Instead of using my fists or my feet, I fight them with my brain. What I mean by this is I used my sense of humor and my cynical and sardonic personality to screw with their heads. One attempts to stop me after classes let out, to which I tap on the cover of a recently acquired copy of the first season of Astro Boy (the 2006 relaunch). I tell him that “Astro Boy is more important. Sayonara!” My walking speed creates enough distance between myself and the kicks this kid tries to throw my way.

The second one I manage to avoid in the restroom. This restroom is not like a regular one: it’s two stories, with an elevator and emergency slide in each stall. Each stall also comes with an installed monitor and joystick, complete with a copy of an old (fictional) arcade title, Meteoroids. Students like to beat the high score in-between classes (scores are kept on a school-wide online leaderboard), hence why there are so many stalls. I’m not very good at this game, so I never leave the top 8,000 player list. The bully and his two bodyguards try looking for me in here. Thanks to my speed and my knowledge of the emergency slides, I can duck into different stalls, confusing them in this porcelain maze. I resolve to play Meteoroids again, and this time actually winning.

The third one actually manages to get his hands on me. He grabs me by my bicep, like he’s a cop trying to arrest me. With my free hand, I grab his face and apply the old pro wrestling submission hold, the Iron Claw. I give him my terms: you let go of me, I let go of you. He’s not a very smart kid, but he complies. I eventually come to face all four of them. I flamboyantly saunter to all four of them, flick them on the foreheads with my index finger and give them each a new name: all of them are “Dick.”

I finally leave the school, where I run into a student (co-worker). An small Asian lady in her early forties, she not only still goes to this school, but has somehow gained horrible posture, walking at nearly a ninety degree angle. Not realizing her handicap, she asks me if I would like a ride home. I politely refuse. Although, without a car, how was I going to get back to the police station?

And that’s just, like, a weird dream.

Then, in 2011, I’m looking around some emulation sites for some ROMs to add to my MAME collection. And in doing so, I found the game I thought was a fictional game that my subconscious made up for a dream. Meteroids is a real game!

It’s also not very good! It’s a very obvious Asteroids rip-off, and is actually much uglier. At least Asteroids had that nice, very, very, lo-fi look to it.

Hold on, here’s what I said in ’11:

Yep. Meteoroids is a real game. Sadly, it’s only a pretty lame rip-off of Asteroids with dial controls (which, in emulation terms, means: “touchy as fuck”) and zero semblance of thoughtful design. Too bad.

But hey, there’s at least the personal novelty of only having heard about the game after having a weird dream involving it. I’ll go ahead and post a download link for it, too, so you can try it out yourself. Get it here.