Welcome To The Year 2011

Ah, my dear friend The WAMBAG. The world has become a little darker since we last spoke. A recap…

After about two months of Project Bachelor Pad, I think I have finally found my first real complaint with the premises. And it’s a doozy – these kids were partying it up late Tuesday night in the adjacent unit, and playing their hideous young people music at horribly high volumes. It was an outrage, I tells ya!

God, what an ordeal. Whenever I stopped breathing and the room was completely silent and devoid of sound, I could occassionally make out in the stillness of the night some vague rythmic rumblings that surely must have come from a super hip and happenin’ Black Eyed Peas track. Honestly, the nerve of these young whippersnappers, creating such a ruckus at such a late hour on a Tuesday evening. It was like 1:30 AM, you can’t be disturbing your neighbours at that hour.

I’m trying to play Mass Effect 2 over here! COME ON.

Please, have some decency and show some consideration for the people around you. All these young whippersnappers…they have no sense of decency, no consideration for their common man. They are all ignorant simpletons, so easily distracted and derailed by their own self-involved, meaningless world.

Anyway. …I don’t remember why I didn’t type this up on Wednesday. I think it’s because I got derailed by that whole Wikipedia thing.

As Max was the last of us to successfully survive past the first quarter century mark, I realize that we have all now become old men, filled with regret, waiting to die alone. Getting old is actually something that weighs heavily on my mind constantly, and it is something that in all seriousness, really does scare me. Like getting really old, and each year just having people lower their expectations of you and what you can accomplish in day-to-day life. Like this nonsense – look at how hilarious Grandpa is with that Dick Towel! Oh ho ho ho, he is self-aware and can stand up on his own power, that is hilarious! Consider the expectations and standards for humour between this random internet Grandpa and me. This old man is held to such a ridiculously lower standard of comedy than I am. If I was making a video of something like that, once it started you would immediately hear Jess’ voice in the background yelling at me to sit my stupid ass down and shut my fucking hole. No one would be laughing.

Another example…I love the rocking and/or the rolling – where’s my 15 minutes? What’s so noteworthy about that? Heavy metal is just like really spicy food for the ears…when your senses are all old and decrepit, you got no time for subtleties.

When you are young, you are too ignorant to meet the expectations society has for you. When you are too old, society no longer has any expectations for you. And in between, you are too busy to be playing Mass Effect, getting drunk, and trying to recount John Cusack’s filmography to care.

And now Kobayashi is dead. Life is cruel.

For those of us who had a delightful New Year’s, drinking it up at random bars, I hope your night included a sighting of one of these majestic creatures…the drunk white douchebag seen in his usual nocturnal habitat, taking on his primary natural predator – the easily annoyed and overworked bouncer. I suspect there’s like a million of these videos out there already, but this one in particular is quite delicious. I credit a lot of that to the sidekick who keeps threatening to sue, which might be the funniest part of the video. I am laughing again right now just thinking about it.

Bonus: The two weird dudes putting on their jackets at the four minute mark, and doing…I don’t even know what.

My name is Kobayashi. I work for Keyser Soze.

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Destined to fight the world's evil, The WAMBAG endures massive battles involving impossible stunts, races on horse-pulled carriages, and the desecration of enchanting medieval castles (all done with dizzying computer graphics). Not only does the eye candy keep on coming, the tongue-in-cheek writing and deep Transylvanian accents perfect the film with a dose of dark humor.

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