Reader Submission Corner: Being Thirsty Is Being Melodramatic
Submitted by: Melissa
The sound of a drink pouring into a glass is really irritating. I wish nobody would ever drink anything. I don’t understand thirst. As an idea it strikes me as strange and unfamiliar. As a need it strikes me as a gross exaggeration.
The sound of liquid pouring into a glass is a sound that I would gladly live the rest of my life without. I would also be glad to get rid of the sound of a cap twisting off of a plastic bottle or the “refreshing” sound soda makes when you pop the can open. Squeezing a plastic bottle is more than just a terrible sound, but one of the rare ones that I feel justified in complaining about since it is completely unnecessary to the process of consuming a drink. Ice cubes hitting the drink, or each other, is another one. Oh and carbonation.
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Hey, squirts! We thought you might be interested in a little brief news update of sorts for a change. Usually we don’t really tell you what we are getting into or implementing; we don’t share our hopes or our dreams. We apologize. Although maybe it was a little fun for you to stumble onto this site and see that Jeremy has made yet another redesign, or Amanda started doing comics again, and then quit. Again. Writers come and go, activity waxes and wanes, attitudes change erratically. I’m sure we’ll go back to being uncommunicative some day soon, but for now: WE WILL SHARE! 
I am periodically fascinated by the choices people seem to make concerning their lives. I mean the generational trends, I guess. I am not so interested in the exceptions, because they are so unique that they sort of bore me. But looking out over the great herd of humanity, stretching out from horizon to horizon. They all graze the same, and sleep facing the same direction, against the wind. They seem to migrate in similar patterns. It may even have a complicated cyclical nature to it, but I am not enough of a social scientist to be able to tell at this moment. But it seems that people’s life choices seem to change over time. 
For a while there, it was a common occurrence that Trev would come along and tell me a pretty terrible joke, and I would try to make it actually amusing for myself by trying to come up with my own answer, or intentionally doing it wrong. But, baybee, if this is wrong then I don’t wanna be right! 
How can you possibly write an opening paragraph to this movie? If you know, then please enlighten me, because as of this moment I can’t really come up with one, which is why you’re reading this. I *could* go off into the basic opening paragraph that I usually do and explain to you that we will be reviewing the second half of the hentai movie 
Oh man. It’s all starting to come together now. After the 
If you’ve played video-games for long enough, it’s a sure bet that you’ve been accused of cheating or have been the one doing some accusing over time. As children, many a game ended with the loser crying foul and accusing the winner of somehow “cheating” despite the fact that they were in plain view of their opponent the entire time. It’s sort of just human nature to never accept that YOU are at fault for your losses and short-comings, and surely you were only defeated due to the bending or breaking of the rules. The only way you could possibly meet any sort of defeat is by your friend, the game, and probably even goddamn Nintendo all plotting against you and working together in an effort to shoot you down. However, cheating does have a place in gaming. Hell, game companies have even capitalized on cheating over the years with cheat-code magazines, and accessories such as the Game Genie or Gameshark. But it was all good fun back then, and even though you may have called your friend a cheater (or a “cheatin’ son of a bitch” in the event of a certain heated game of Mario Kart one night), deep down you knew both of you were playing fair and that you did really have a lot of fun despite the loss. Sometimes this didn’t hit you until you made your friend call and tell his mother to come pick him up early as you stormed off to your room to spend a half hour or so with your favorite crying pillow. 
Sometimes I am a little concerned at how my actual conversations on AIM sometimes read like planned comic strips, painful punchline and all. I drew this one because I was concerned, but maybe someone else will find it to be delightful. 
Shopping for groceries is one of those annoying tasks you have to do once or twice a week, depending on your habits and needs. Maybe there are some people out there who enjoy the act. Perhaps for them, creating a list for a week, perhaps a carefully planned menu, all of that stuff, perhaps all of that is a pleasure for these people. It might fulfill an instinctual need to hunt and gather. God, who knows. What I DO know is that I am not one of those people. Grocery shopping is a boring old activity that involves many things I despise: making decisions, forethought, crowds, and being out in public.
Man, this movie is odd. On one hand, I really appreciate the different approach it takes with a genre that lacks much originality. On the other hand, it’s just a bad movie. Fido is essentially an alternate reality where zombies are used as servants for the living. It’s set to an almost idyllic 50’s era tone, with everything being overly bright and colorful, while all the characters conform to that whole LIFE IS GREAT 50’s attitude. It’s this concept that makes Fido worth watching, as the zombies and the setting fit so strangely together. It’s just the rest of the movie that blows it hard. 
Digging into the depths of hentai, one cannot ignore the sheer amount that deals in the area of bondage. A kinky form of sex that involves the male or female to wear tight leather and beat the other until they black-out, and then post movies of it on their AOL webspace. There may be more to bondage, as some people seem to genuinely consider it as a religion to follow, but I’m not really into the whole bondage scene, so I’m not interested in facts. Now, if I were doing an article on Ben and Jerry’s chocolate swirl ice cream, I would probably do a week’s worth of exhaustive research into the subject. Then I would try to get several guest interviews set up, and at least one interactive Flash game detailing the history of Ben and Jerry’s chocolate swirl ice cream. But as for bondage, I couldn’t care less. 
Only a few games really defined the 16-bit era for me, and Zombies Ate My Neighbors would probably be at the top of that list. Just the name alone is so completely awesome. Thankfully, the rest of the game was just as amazing, spanning dozens of levels, endless horror movie parody characters, and some rock solid overhead shooting. I played the Hell out of this game on the Super NES, and was actually one of the few games I saved up my own money to buy. Obviously, I’ll never be able to say enough about this 16-bit gem. Instead, let’s just take a look at a few of the things ZAMN did seemingly effortlessly, while other games like it perpetually floundered. 
Oh man, it’s that time of the week again. Yet another foray into the world of the 
My friend Melissa and I are girls. It is pretty boring and unexceptional being girls until we realize the kinds of things we are made to say just because we are horrid and catty bitches almost 100% of the time. We are never happy. 
I sit here, perched on the edge of my seat, ready to flee at a moment’s notice. Every shadow seems suspicious, every small movement is noticed, every slight breeze is magnified, and every eye floatie causes great alarm in my mind. I am normally a very pensive person, yes, although it may be mostly masked by an unnaturally calm exterior. I don’t know being as I am not often on the outside looking in at myself. Cricket Cat just snuck up on me and her whisker touched my arm and I jumped up and shouted JESUS SAVE ME! Judging by how fast she ran away, I scared her as much as she scared me. While I am normally on edge, I am not normally on THIS MUCH of an edge. What has gotten me to be this way? I will tell you. I saw a spider in this room, and I can’t find it again. 
I’m not normally a fan of Alien rip-offs, and that means that initially seeing the poster for this movie I really wasn’t too excited about it. That cover pretty much screams “ALIEN-CLONE” to me, or even worse it’s a reminder of the terrible live-action Guyver movie, which is not a positive thing. But it was recommended to me by someone so I gave it a shot and wow… am I glad I did. This movie doesn’t really do anything new, but instead takes a whole bunch of other things, throws them into a blender, and shits out something far more entertaining than any of its parts.
It was Christmas, and I was headed to my Mom’s house to receive my annual haul of presents from her side of the family. I had high hopes, as I had not had my Nintendo for too long, and had been namedropping games like a drug fiend for months. Once I stepped through the door, my anticipation had boiled over to the point where I thought I may throw up at just the idea of being handed a bunch of poorly wrapped presents to open. Once the presents started being passed out, I was wondering just what awesome NES games I could be getting. Castlevania? Contra? I had asked for both repeatedly, after all. My young mind could barely comprehend it all. Finally they finished passing things out, and the OK was given to start opening them. I rifled through them like a fat person going down on a fondu buffet. After a few toys, I finally found the box that most obviously looked like a NES game. I ripped it open a bit to find that yes, the Nintendo Seal of Approval was showing in the corner. The rest of the paper came off with the quickness to reveal the full game. Finally! The game I had wanted for months was… JAWS?! It’s fucking JAWS?! What the FUCK? 
Hey kids, we’re back for week two of the 
Occasionally, my AIM conversations make it all too apparent how aged and feeble our minds are. This decline into Old Age is frightening, but more than that, it is saddening. I had to share it. 
I don’t think you can really say I belong to any sort of “Musical Environment.” I am not any sort of scene at all, and don’t really pursue such a thing because I simply don’t get into it. Sure, I could be some sort of jive talkin’ white boy that’s hard up on him some ghetto beats in the hood with my bitches, but that’s just not me. There’s also the whole goth scene, but I’m 30 now, and the only thing I’m really depressed over anymore is gasoline prices and interest rate hikes. I guess its more for a younger crowd, which is fine when it’s kept off to its little space, and doesn’t wake me up at 4 AM. For I am a bitter and unforgiving old man now. I would most likely go outside and shake my cane angrily at the youngsters encroaching on my old person sleep time. 
