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.
Friday, April 14, 2006
Baby Boomer
I haven't been able to decide what I think about Color Dreams, Inc. On one hand, they were probably one of the most inventive unlicensed game producers for the Nintendo. On the other hand, everything they invented sucked hairy monkey ass and I hope they die of syphilis. Baby Boomer takes you on the wild, wild adventures of protecting J Random Baby as he crawls from the local park through the local graveyard and down to hell itself. I'm not kidding. Neither do I kid about the fact that after playing this game, you'll spend the next 4 days fighting the urge to go back and boil your hands just one more time. They should have included a disclaimer stating that "Exposure to this game may cause blindness, vomiting, anal leakage, and your opposable thumbs to jam themselves into your eye sockets." You use either the controller or the light gun to kill a random assortment of critters that come directly out of the basement toilet in my old apartment. Little Baby weenie Man crawls through in a straight line, never deviating course when he sees that giant pit that just happens to be straight in front of him. What's pink and red and silver and run into walls? A baby with forks in its eyes. I've suddenly got the urge to sift through the collection to see if there's a baby boomer hack with a fork baby. While I'm looking for one, here's another dead baby joke - What's harder than nailing a dead baby to a tree? Nailing one to a dead puppy. What's blue and sits in the corner? A baby in a baggie. Why you shouldn't send me hate mail for my dead baby jokes? I'm still chewing.
Time to chalk up another useless SMB1 hack. This time starring Babio. Is it just me or are we stretching things a little here? What's next, Richard Simmons-io? Dr. Frank-N-Furter-io? Michael Jacksonio? It's the same goddamn level too. Honestly, people, if you're going to use the same goddamn level over and over again, have the decency to set up your hack with a hot, mud-wrestling lesbian vampire, or maybe Jenna Jameson. Not fucking Babio, of all the harebrained cracknuts ideas. Of course, me being the dedicated man on the absolute bleeding edge of the razor going through the wrist of humor, I played it all the way through. Not that it took me that long, the level is over in less time than it takes me to find Brittany Spears porn. Bleh. Another one down, 5 more years worth to go.
Ahhhhhh, the dust has settled and the ring is on my finger, it's time to relax, and you know what that means. It's time, once again, to jump headfirst into the fetid lands of 8-bit mediocrity. Envy me. And send me a check. Just make it out to cash. Babel was the fabled city where God played one of his best practical jokes, by suddenly causing everybody to speak a different language. Kind of like calling tech support. The joke continues to this day with Babel no Tou, produced by Namcot (which is Namco's retarded, half-blind sister company). It's a sprawling puzzle game that taxes the mind and enriches the spirit by challenging you to pick up blocks and set them down and ... and ... Well, that's actually all there is. 64 levels of picking up blocks and putting them down. If you want to get a taste of the excitement that is coursing through my veins at this particular moment, follow these simple directions:
1: Remove bulb from closest desk lamp.
2: Turn desk lamp on.
3: Insert penis. I didn't even try to get to the end of this one. Well, I tried, but nasal insertion of the controller doesn't get you anything but soggy buttons. I take some small comfort, however, in the knowledge that somewhere out there, some kid got this game as a Christmas present. He's all happy and excited, because, well, he got a game. For the adolescent male, video games don't outrank porn as a good present, mind you, but it's awfully close. Then he pops it into the Nintendo, turns it on, and Christmas is ruined. Forever. I never got over that, or forgave Santa for leaving that game instead of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Fat bastard,
Once again, coming to you direct from AV Hackers and Skanksnhoes (who brought us such classics like "Japanese Chicks Gagfucked With Kitchen Utensils" and your last girlfriend) we have the absolutely unplayable and completely unrewarding "AV Hanafuda Club". Unfortunately I wasn't able to find an Atlanta bum to translate this for me, so I imagine that part of the reason this doesn't make any sense is because it's written in a language that closely resembles a paintbrush having an epiliptic fit. I can normally cope with this in much the same way that I cope with my wasted and useless life - by looking at porn. However, where the last AV game at least had a fuckable chick on the title screen, this one...weeeeeeelllllll....take a look: Christ. I wouldn't fuck them withreese'sdick. Then, in a frightening rehashing of every date I went on in high school, in order to see these skanks naked, you're forced to play a completely incomprehensible game that you have no real chance of winning. But you play for awhile anyway, because hey, any tits are good tits, ya know?
After 6 long, long months, I get to the first of the games that focus around one of my favorite things on this planet. Naked women. Fuck beer, naked women are proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy. Such is our obsession with naked women that we're happy seeing them even when they're rendered in all their 8-bit glory. Hell, fuck 8-bit glory, we were jacking off to orange legos in "Custer's revenge" for the AtariAnyway. *ahem* On to the game. Turning on the game, my ears are suddenly assaulted by the Nintendo version of a reject from Aphex Twin's last album. No worries, there's a chick on the screen and it looks like she would be happy to get naked if I push the right buttons. Nintendo sound off, Pink Floyd on, and lets see some tits.I will say this. The Japanese are strange, bizarre, frightening people who have a scary fascination with scatology, but they do know how to draw nice tits. Look at just about any Hentai if you don't believe me. At least, any Hentai that doesn't involve suspiciously underage schoolgirls. But we're off to a good start here. Let the jigglevision begin.Groovy. Not only do I get to see naked women, I get to choose. My own little Nintendo-harem. There are some more screens, and then:Um. Problem. I don't know fuck-all about how to play MahJong. I play awhile longer, and it's just like every other god damn mahjong game in the known universe. It makes absolutely no damn sense whatsoever. That's their plan, I realize. Those bastards have me beat. Sucker me in with the promise of naked nintenbabes, and then deliver the cockpunch. "Ha!" they're saying, "We got you, stupid round-eye American bastard! You play mahjong like sheep play piano! You suck. You never see tits now! Ha, Ha, Ha!!!"
I like puzzle games, I really do. I spent literally hours at a time on Tetris. Lolo, believe it or not, did suck quite some time off my day as well. There are very few puzzles that I don't like. This is one of them. Auto Upturn is one of those damnable little sliding puzzles. That's all it is, nothing more. Sure, it tries to make things better by adding some little cat that runs around, and if he gets cought by the dog you have to start all over again. I suppose you can consider this a good game, if your goal is to add a little bit more pain and suffering into the universe. Why stop there, though. How about if you just go ahead and start trying to slash my wrists via paper cut. Would you be happy then? The cat is kinda cute, though.
When I think of Kung Fu, there are several images that spring to mind. Bruce Lee moving like lightning on speed or Sonny Chiba ripping people's heads off and generally being the baddest badass in the known universe. I do not think of Austin when I think of kung fu after I'm six hits in on one-hit-wonder superweed and wondering why I'm suddenly able to understand the language of carrots. I don't associate Austin and kung fu after I've consumed enough vodka to make my blood flammable and convince my Russian friend that I might be able to drink at the red table after all. I don't think of Austin period. Who the fuck is Austin?Apparently this is Austin. Bald headed fuckmunch ninja elf, get off my nintendo and let me get to the next game.
Being a subject of the Imperial Federal Government of the United States of Fucking People Up the Ass at Tax Season, before this game I was generally unfamiliar with the concept of "footy" being a game. I remembered a reference to it in the movie "Dog Soldiers", and so I turned back to the movie for a little more information. As we all know, movies tell nothing but the truth, so I was pleased to find that "footy" was usually referenced right before someone got their intestines torn out or their head pulled off, or something similarly gratuitous. This seemed a somewhat tenuous link, so I dug a little deeper. That screenshot was not modified in any way. Honest. Apparently "watching the footy" is the national religion of 95% of all Australians alive - the other 5% awaiting summary execution (not liking the "footy" is apparently considered High Treason and is punishable by death). Footy as played by the rest of the world is completely unlike American Football as there is no body armor or referees. Aussie Rules Footy takes it a step farther, as the Australians are collectively crazy as a shithouse rat and routinely enjoy having limbs broken off and making strange faces. Think Vietnam with a pigskin. See Exhibit B: Once I recovered from the color choice menu, I went through and actually tried to play the game. Unfortunately, being that the target audience for Nintendo was the under 18 crowd, there was no blood, screams of pain or decapitations - all of which are routine occurrences in a real game. No, just the standard bunch of stick figure blobs running around after a shit-brown blob that's supposed to be a ball. Not surprised, really. Bastards. To top it all off, while I was writing this particular entry, I let the chicken burn, so now it smells like teriaki-flavored ass in here and dinner now resembles something that I will henceforth refer to as Hellshit. Damnit.
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.
Baby Boomer takes you on the wild, wild adventures of protecting J Random Baby as he crawls from the local park through the local graveyard and down to hell itself. I'm not kidding. Neither do I kid about the fact that after playing this game, you'll spend the next 4 days fighting the urge to go back and boil your hands just one more time. 
They should have included a disclaimer stating that "Exposure to this game may cause blindness, vomiting, anal leakage, and your opposable thumbs to jam themselves into your eye sockets." 
You use either the controller or the light gun to kill a random assortment of critters that come directly out of the basement toilet in my old apartment. Little Baby weenie Man crawls through in a straight line, never deviating course when he sees that giant pit that just happens to be straight in front of him. 
What's pink and red and silver and run into walls? A baby with forks in its eyes. I've suddenly got the urge to sift through the collection to see if there's a baby boomer hack with a fork baby. While I'm looking for one, here's another dead baby joke - What's harder than nailing a dead baby to a tree? Nailing one to a dead puppy. What's blue and sits in the corner? A baby in a baggie. Why you shouldn't send me hate mail for my dead baby jokes? I'm still chewing.
Baby Boomer takes you on the wild, wild adventures of protecting J Random Baby as he crawls from the local park through the local graveyard and down to hell itself. I'm not kidding. Neither do I kid about the fact that after playing this game, you'll spend the next 4 days fighting the urge to go back and boil your hands just one more time. 
They should have included a disclaimer stating that "Exposure to this game may cause blindness, vomiting, anal leakage, and your opposable thumbs to jam themselves into your eye sockets." 
You use either the controller or the light gun to kill a random assortment of critters that come directly out of the basement toilet in my old apartment. Little Baby weenie Man crawls through in a straight line, never deviating course when he sees that giant pit that just happens to be straight in front of him. 
What's pink and red and silver and run into walls? A baby with forks in its eyes. I've suddenly got the urge to sift through the collection to see if there's a baby boomer hack with a fork baby. While I'm looking for one, here's another dead baby joke - What's harder than nailing a dead baby to a tree? Nailing one to a dead puppy. What's blue and sits in the corner? A baby in a baggie. Why you shouldn't send me hate mail for my dead baby jokes? I'm still chewing.
