A game-by-game diary of my attempt to play every Nintendo game. From 8-Eyes to Zombie Nation and everything in between. Even that strange Christian game where you convert people by hitting them with fruit. Just wait. You'll see.
Sunday, December 18, 2005
Airwolf
I don't know, maybe I too, despite my deep-seated love of old-school games, have become spoiled by the new graphics, power and ability of the next-gen game systems. And so I see a game like this, and instead of giving it a fair chance, I just proceed to hate it and do my best to find a way to make fun of the creators sexuality, sanity, or general worth as a human being. That might be true, but I don't think so. After all, I still play Zelda and Castlevania - time and time again I turn to the NES when the current crop of Nifty 3-D games has gotten stale. Yea, I bet you do, you limp-dick-fag-fucker. Where was I? Oh yea, old-vs-new. Old games couldn't depend on flashy graphics or amazing full-orchestral sound. They has to rely on plot. A good story, engaging characters and well-thought-out gameplay. Unfortunately, the makes of this game were too busy giving each other blowjobs under the desk and generally loving the cock to really do any of those things. I've just spent 10 minutes playing, pulling screenshots, and writing this that I could have spent masturbating to naked Japanese women. Now I'll never get that time back. I hate you, Acclaim.
Location: Terminus (Where All Rail Service Ends, Brother), Georgia, United States
I'm 27, a self-made oil, rail and steel tycoon whose combined income makes Bill Gates cry like a little bitch. I look like Johnny Depp, Christian Slater, or Brad Pitt, depending on which chatroom I'm in. I have a 19" prehensile penis that I use to hold my coffee while I type. I know where Jimmy Hoffa lives, and I understand the language of cats. I help old ladies cross the street and translate ethnic slurs for cuban refugees in my spare time. I sleep only one hour a night. I make ice cubes with the power of my mind. I can touch MC Hammer. I know every rivet in the Russian T-34 tank. I've advised Presidents, slept with movie stars, and can organize my sock drawer in less than 23 seconds.
And I still have time to do this blog.
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