TenTonHammer.com - Taking MMO Gamers to the Next Level!

Warhammer Online breaks its realms into two factions:

Destruction and Order.

Each side has its strengths and weaknesses so that the war is extremely balanced and fair, unless you are Order because you are out-numbered about a billion to one. Face it, no one wants to be a goodie goodie when it is THIS much fun being bad.

Today we'll go over the races of Destruction, and explain to you your choices so that you can join the forces of strength and power, (I won't say evil. They're just misunderstood.) and help crush the weak willed bunny huggers over on the Order side. Starting with:

Green Skins

Every army needs grunts, and since Orcs and Goblins only communicate THROUGH grunts and the occasional thought provoking ass scratch, they're the logical choice for cannon fodder. Meat shields, the first line of defense, and the highest death rate in any war, you'd think that the Green Skins would wise up and strive for a better position.

That's what you get for thinking.

Orcs and Goblins (Who are admittedly a bit smarter, but give up their size for their brain power) don't think. They do. They love their role and view being lobbed into battle ahead of the other troops as a mark of honor. Thinking, reasoning and planning are reserved for people with things like education, wisdom, and long life expectancies. Life is too short to be wasted on thought so if you play an Orc there are only two solutions to ANY problem, no matter how complex.

Solution A) Hit it with a rock.

Solution B) Hit it with a rock again.

There is no problem that a Green Skin faces that cannot be solved by following either solution A or solution A THEN solution B a whole bunch of times with a stomp thrown in for luck. They are huge, brainless, child-like brutes - so needless to say...

I love them.

Your average Greenie is a giant eight year old with a severe learning disability and parents that were possibly siblings. They're hyperactive, quick to act, and put absolutely no thought into their actions past the here and now. They love their very short lives and most importantly of all, they love the fights that they get hurled into...

...quite literally.

Why let the rocks have all the fun right? FIRE!

Who plays the Green Skins?

There are two types of people that the Greenies appeal to, and because of this Orcs and Goblins are the most popular yet the most hate race in the game.

Type One - The guy who just wants to have fun.

I fall into this category and chose Orc because it offers the most enjoyment in role play and player interaction. Anything you do can be excused because you're a big dumb brute. You don't have to worry about "skill" or "tactics" because you just run into battle and smash anything that moves until it stops moving. You're not expected to be bright, or cunning, or anything but a wall of stupid that everyone else hides behind.

Orcs are instant fun, just add stupid.

Type Two - Diabetes.

...sorry.

Ahem.

Type Two - The 1337 pwning d00d from Warcraft W00T!!11!1one!1!

And hence the hate for the race. It seems that if you are an easily excitable 14 year old white kid named Trevor who wears his hat askew and makes his friends call him "money", ORC is the only class you are allowed to play.

The race is known for its poor spelling, and horrible communication skills - and so are Green skins, (HA! See what I did there?) so it seems like the logical choice. Full of d00ds and people who get REALLY bent out of shape that you are role playing but not on a role play designated server, other Greenies annoy me to the point where I may turn against my people out of sheer hatred for their stupidity. When you are so stoopid that you make a GREEN SKIN mad, it's time to hang up the MMOG and go back to school.

Important tip from your Uncle coyote.

Chaos

At first glance, Chaos looks pretty much human. But then you look again and notice that chick's eyes. You've SEEN those eyes before. Those eyes are familiar.

Those eyes belong to a crazy bitch.

And that's exactly what Chaos is. Chaos characters are men and women who have become tainted and infected with the powers of Chaos. This taint gives them super human strength, stamina, and as you progress...

...reaaaaally twisted mutations.

We're talking sword arms and tentacle fingers, Radar's worst nightmare.  The longer you remain an agent of Chaos, the more likely you are to suddenly sprout a horn for no reason and the less likely you are to remain calm and reasonable in any given situation. Chaos men are the no-necked roid freaks that start bar fights because someone's shadow bumped into theirs.

Chaos women will cut off your penis.

Seriously.

Check out that chick's eyes. I think we dated once.

Who Plays Chaos:

People who are into anime porn or bondage films that involve doing things with clothes pins that you don't want to see done with clothes pins, ever. You just wear your clothes sopping wet and die a little inside whenever you see an old photo of laundry hanging on a clothes line.

...okay...

....I have a Chaos Marauder.

Don't you dare judge me.

Dark Elves

Dark Elf chicks are hot.

They sultry and sexy and naughty and you know for a fact that they'd bring one of their friends into the sack so that you can have a little pointy ear sammich of love. Dark Elf men look like Dark Elf woman, and if your chick wants to bring her friend into the sack for a round of leather and whips, make sure you keep the lights on...

...because it very well might be THIS guy. Not that you'd really be able to tell or after a few drinks, care.

Like their name implies, Dark Elves have fallen from grace and allowed the forces of Darkness to pull them further away from their cousin the High Elf - which is just good for everyone. High Elves are snobs and prudes and almost NEVER let you get past second base.

And that's only after months of teasing.

Noted for their intelligence, cunning, and ability to wear almost nothing into battle but not end up looking like a billboard for band-aid research, Dark Elves are the brains behind Destruction. They may seem to play second fiddle to a Chaos War Lord, or the right hand to any battle general - but the truth is that Dark Elves pull all of the strings, and we let them because they show lots of skin.

Who plays a Dark Elf?

Guys.

Period.

Half naked hot slutty chick running around in a scarf with her boobs and ass just hanging out as she kicks ass ala Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or better yet, wrestles around with OTHER chicks?

What is NOT to love?

In fact if you start a Witch Elf you'll log into the starting zone and notice right off the bat the lag. Not because the game itself is lagging, but because of the sheer number of half naked chicks standing around emoting to each other instead of playing the game. Yawning, stretching, jiggling - if you look on ANY server at ANY given time, there is not a single Witch Elf character past level 2, and the few that GOT to level two did it by accident.

Either that or they cybered a Dev for XP.

Either way, Dark Elf chicks are hot. And don't bother playing a male, no one cares or knows. You all wear dresses, the dudes are only a little bit less "hot" and curvy than the chicks, and to be honest - once you slap 'em in a dress or robe as a mage, there is only ONE thing that gives them away as male.

They're not as masculine or as tough as the female elves.

HA!

I did it again! You see that?

-Coyote

Some wars are simply engrained within us. They are part of our nature, our mentality, our very way of life and they seldom need to be explained past their initial mentioning:

Darkness versus Light.

Good versus Evil.

Fat Kid versus Cupcake.

These are the age old battles that drive the forces behind Warhammer Online: Age of Reckoning.

Except, ya know...without the cupcakes. At least *I* haven't seen any cupcakes as of yet, but admittedly I'm still very new to the game and might not have made it to that particular zone. The newest MMOG to hit the market, Warhammer has been given the same title that countless games before it (6) have proudly tried to bear:

The WoW Slayer.

It seems that no game being created is done so out of purity or love for adventure anymore. No one wants to be the best in their particular genre, or happy with a modest following from the playerbase.

Everyone wants to be King.

They want to knock World of Warcraft off of its throne, claim the largest portion of the population and be crowned ruler of the geek people. Age of Conan, Vanguard, Dungeons and Dragons Online, Lord of the Rings - all of these games at one time or another have strapped on their God slayer banner, and all of them have officially failed harder than an Alabama Spelling Bee. And like all of these games, Warhammer has been thrust into the light as the next best thing. But UNLIKE all of these games...

Warhammer just might have a chance.

Storyline

The face of the land is changing, the Gods are pulling strings and empowering their avatars and the world has been thrown into turmoil. Armies have been raised, combined, and split violently down the middle as the forces of Order clash in the heat of battle with the soldiers of Chaos.

Humans, Dwarves and Elves band together in hopes of shining the light of good into the heart of darkness as they face down the hoards of Darkness. Orcs, Dark Elves, and Chaos twisted men and women who follow the path of Destruction stand in the way of hope and salvation as they try to wrest control of the very land upon which they stand.

Who will win you may ask?

That's easy.

Destruction. DUH.

Because good is dumb.

Game Play

Warhammer's twist on the MMOG world looks like just any other online game at first glance. Player Verses Player opt ins and contested zones, and quests to further your level to make you stronger than your foe.

But looks can be deceiving.

Deeper game play shows you that while the formula may look the same, unique twists can give it an entirely "new" flavor, regardless to how familiar it may look.

Realm Verses Realm is simply part of this game. If you hate PvP and being jumped by gangs of the opposite team looking to hunt you down - then this game is NOT for you. While not every zone is flagged for side verse side combat, and there are plenty of areas in which you can play peacefully...

...the name of this game is WAR for a reason.

You are at war, and even if you are the most devout pacifist, you will find yourself thrust into the fray for simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time. And what is the worst part of PvP? Some level 50 war monger coming to the newbie zone and destroying all that he sees as he laughs like a bully, right?

WRONG.

In Warhammer, you WELCOME that.

Because that bastard is in for a bit of a surprise.

Newbie Zones are full of combat, contested locations and bonuses for taking or defending key landmarks. But they are also full of win and bunnies in the fact that if you are above the "tier" for that zone and you feel like picking on the weak and the young...

Your ass gets turned into a chicken.

That's right. A level one CHICKEN.

BAAAWWWKAAAWWWK MOTHER F***ER!

And as much as it pains me to share this knowledge as I don't want those inclined to killing noobies to find out online, but instead in combat - I love this mechanic.

LOVE it.

In other games there are restrictions, no combat rules, and limitations for level - but in Warhammer Online? Your ass gets turned into a chicken and you're suddenly left finger licking vulnerable.

Add in workable weapons such as catapults and ballista throwers that give you a sniper scope and a chance to impale some stunty that wanders his bearded ass too close to your base camp...

...and the game just continues to surprise and delight.

Conclusion

It's too early to rate the game at this point, I'm sorry to say.

While the game has some amazing aspects that make me want to play, it has some weaknesses that annoy me to no end wrapped in an air of "Wowishness" to the graphics and characters.

Chat functions are limited with no personal channels for friends to chat out of character, no voice chat yet - which in THIS day and age should be a standard part of ANY MMOG release - and you sometimes get the feeling that you've done this all before. Tomorrow we'll get into the races that make up the game (Destruction and Order) and we'll work towards that final grade, if such a thing is even possible in an MMOG.

But as it stands, Warhammer has definitely caught my attention and is worth checking out as it has done the one thing that no other MMOG to date has inspired me to do:

I'm playing a bad guy.

Dat's right. Da boyz gots demselves a Coyote.

If you've got a problem with that, join the Order and DO something about it, because if there is ONE indestructable player in the game - he's in MY guild and cannot be killed by ANYONE, even if you were to get a group of players and hunt him down DAY AND NIGHT NON-STOP  and pay me for his character name so that you can try to kill him every time he logs in.  He laughs at you and then hits on your mom.

And like me, he's a CoW. Moo bitches. Moo.

-Coyote

Vah breen fredashay goh?

Translation: They're making a F***ING SIMS MOVIE.

Yup. Already in production producer John Davis is optimistic that this movie can be one of the few, the proud - the GOOD video game to movie translation.

I on the other hand just chamooga'd myself.

Now, I know what you are thinking:

"What do the people who live in Chad look like?”

I have absolutely no idea. Chad doesn't even SOUND like it should be a real country, but if you look on a map and venture to the places you'd never go because they're full of sand and people who eat fried bugs, there it is.

Chad.

Just sitting there with its blonde hair and popped collar looking like a total prick, but getting all the girls because his Dad got him a brand new car for his 16th birthday like you see in the movies.

I frigging hate Chad.

Mostly  this hate stems from the fact that Chad Thomas hit me in the face with a dodge ball REALLY hard in the 11th grade and gave me a bloody nose. Everyone did that "OooOoh-fight-fight" thing and formed a circle around us, but I didn't fight him because I'm above petty violence and he would have turned me into a pretzel.

I mean the kid was already BALDING in the 11th grade.

You don't SCREW with a kid who is losing his hair by sixteen. It's just an ingrained survival mechanism. If someone is already DONE with the puberty you’ve barely started and BALDING in the 11th grade, you LET him hit you with a dodge ball. You don’t FIGHT a kid like that.

Instead you come up with really insightful-yet-cruel nicknames for him that haunt him the rest of his life and covertly spread them around the school.

Now, I know that Chad Thomas probably has NOTHING to do with the actual country of Chad, but you know what? I'm not really 100% confident in that knowledge, so just in case - I hate them by proxy.

If you think that this is silly or petty or childish, just remember that if there was a country called "Coyote" and it was suddenly thrust into the media for starting trouble, you'd all secretly think that I was involved, or at least KNEW something about it.

Not so silly NOW is it?

But I digress, and hey - you brought up the whole Chad Thomas thing, I was trying to talk about the Sims game, so stop distracting me. Barring all thoughts of Chad from the rest of this conversation you SHOULD be thinking:

"How can they make a movie out of a GAME...that has no goal or plot?"

Dude.

It's HOLLYWOOD.

Seinfeld was the show about nothing but it was on for 12 seasons. I'm pretty sure that making ONE movie with no plot isn't that big of a deal to them. But still, on that concern John Davis gave us our answer.

The movie itself is going to be about a family that finds a video game in a video store that they never noticed, takes it home and realizes that by PLAYING it, they're affecting and controlling all of the people in their neighborhood and lives. This of course backfires on them as it would do in reality, and they learn valuable life lessons within 90 minutes, not including time for previews and commercials.

Yeah, don't think that I haven't noticed the COMMERICALS in my movie theaters now, but THAT is a rant for another day. (And FYI, I'm pretty positive Chad is involved.)

The problem with this movie is that it shouldn't be a kids game full of lollipops and giggles. It should be a porno...

...filled with lollipops and giggles.

Now before you roll your eyes and go all angry on me, let me explain:

* An estimated 28 MILLION people play the Sims.
* The average Sim player puts 96 hours into the game.
* 95.7 hours of this is in trying to get your Sims to have sex, or at least make the two HOT neighbor chicks kiss.

Okay, so I made up the first two facts - but come on. No one plays the Sims in order to PLAY the Sims. You try to get the Chicks to kiss, burn down houses and have swimming pool parties so that you can take away the ladder and watch them all drown. If you had the power that you have over your Sims in REAL life, the power of a GOD for all intent and argument, it would corrupt you before it was even done loading.

And by you of course, I mean me.

But I still contend that most of you would be just as bad, if not even worse. There would be no life lessons learned or good strong family values gleaned from the strife that one causes and learning from mistakes to be a better person - and if you say otherwise you are a damned dirty liar, and probably from Chad.

No.

If the Sims the GAME were a remote control for real life, your neighbors would not be a tool in which you used to better yourself. They would be cooking in the nude on a really complicated stove in a house FULL of wicker furniture. Chicks would be making out everywhere, people would find themselves magically walled into a 2X2 room in which they can't lay down so they just cry and pee a lot, and the Grim Reaper would be making a ton of cash working overtime.

To put it bluntly - this is a HORRIBLE idea for a movie. It proves that people are sheep, and that we will watch ANYTHING that Hollywood vomits into our laps. Needless to say:

I can't wait for it to hit the theaters.
Because even in a horrible movie with a trite plot, and a paper thin premise that is trying to cash in on a pop culture phenomenon, you can never EVER get enough...

..of two chicks kissing.

Yeah.

That's nice.

-Coyote

((OH, Hey! The NEW Avast Ye is finally up. I guess the servers were stored in the eye of the hurricane and landed in Oz or what not. JUST GO READ IT YA SWABS!))

"So who are you voting for this year?"

Everyone wants to know my political views and stances. I get countless e-mails asking me if I'm a Democrat or Republican, if I think Obama is old enough, or if Palin is hot.

The truth is, I HATE politics.

I know nothing of them, find them boring, and I'm a bit of an anarchist in the fact that I think it is all for show and none of it REALLY matters, so it should be done away with. Scrap the system and start over, power to the people, and NO Palin is NOT hot - although I still totally want to see her cans.

But I digress.

The simple fact is: There is only ONE person I'd like to see as President. ONE person with that power, that devotion, and that finger inching closer to the dreaded "button".

Me.

Now before you laugh, hear me out. I have a five point plan that would improve on all of the areas of the Government that we have no faith in, and restore a sense of security to the people. Spending, Taxes,  Religion, Human Rights, The Military - all of these things are covered, and instead of using education, intelligence, ability, and years of laws and rules...

...my plan involves COMMON sense.

1) Spending: The Department of My Mom

Mom is not an acronym for something clever that just happens to spell out the universal nickname for Mother. The Department of My Mom would literally be my mother approving all of the Government spending, as she would be in control of the assets. I estimate that this would cut all unnecessary government spending by 99.99%, and under her "Is your room clean?" conditional policy, bedrooms across America would be much more tidy.

Not that my mother is a tightwad.

Not at all.

It's just that growing up poor she had to budget and plan for every penny, so that when we DID have a little extra to go around you had to plead your case, explain the reason behind the spending, and maybe take out the trash.

Or at least promise to stop wiping spit on your little sister.

In order to GET money from the Department of My Mom, you'd have to sit down at a table with her and look her in the eye as you explained to her what it would be used for. I imagine it would go like this:

Government Agent: "Mrs. Coyote's Mom, we here in the Government would like to request $50,000 dollars to buy some more equipment."

My Mom: "What kind of equipment?"

Government Agent: "Um..you know. Like stuff so that we can uh...keep other stuff running."

My Mom: *checking the note she taped to the inside of the pantry door* "And what happened to the $50,000 dollars I gave you LAST week for equipment?"

Government Agent: "We bought a hammer."

My Mom: "ONE Hammer?"

Government Agent: "...uh....yeah. But it's a NICE one."

My Mom: "Request denied, but nice try. You don't think that I know how much a hammer costs? Now go clean your room and take out the trash on your way out, it's starting to smell - and DON'T YOU ROLL YOUR EYES AT ME MISTER! Oooh, you're gunna GET IT!"

And then the Government Agent would have to go back to his friends all dejected and explain to them that he can't get the money so they're going to have to start a lemonade stand or something to raise the cash they wanted. Which they'd probably just tax the living shit out of, so luckily we move onto...

2) Taxes: Leave the smokers alone.

I don't smoke.

I don't like the smell of smoke, I've never TRIED smoking, and it holds absolutely no allure to me in the least. Yellow teeth, stained skin, and the urge to hit someone if you don't get your fix every hour just doesn't appeal to the inner me.

However...

We need to leave the smokers alone.

We tax the PISS out of smoking, and sooner or later they're all going to snap and kill us, or at least light a match off of our cheek in that tough-guy-action-movie kinda way, and I bet that HURTS. I don't even smoke and I know that cigarettes don't cost ten bucks a pack to make, but since no one LIKES smokers, it is just easier to pick on them because no one will stick up for them.

Because their teeth are yellow and they smell bad. But back to taxes.

When you say "Taxes" in this country, people sigh and open their wallets, but they never ask WHAT the tax money is going to. They just assume that the Government is fixing roads or buying guns, or using it to protect us. What they DON'T know is that 95% of your tax money goes to: Buying stuff that the Department of My Mom wouldn't approve.

They're all walking around with iPods and cell phones and wearing the newest athletic shoe that looks like it came out of a Doctor Seuss story about astronauts, but no one ever stops to ask about WHERE they got the money. And if you DO ask they hit you with a phonebook's worth of paperwork and documents that bores you silly before you even NOTICE that they spent $800,000 on "testing the flow rate of ketchup" so that some Senator's kid never has to work.

Taxes will be filtered through the Department of My Mom, and how much you pay will be reflected on a weekly posted chart taped to the Fridge with little deductions or increases depending on whether or not you cleaned your room, and yes she's going to check under the bed.

3) Religion: Separation of Church and State, and Church and Altar boys.

Separation of Church and State means that the Government should NOT be influenced by religion. Yet whenever we have an election, the candidates line RIGHT up to ensure you that they are the most religious people in the world so that you vote for them. People who say that want religion in schools and government, don't really MEAN that they want RELIGION in the schools and government - they mean that they want THEIR religion.

Yours can go to hell. It's probably all freaky anyway and involves bowing to the east or Gods with eight arms and stuff. That's not religion, that's praying to Spiderman when his mutation acted up.

No. They want THEIR religion, and because of that - they want their candidate to prove that they belief in the REAL god, and not some made-up god that they never heard of that out dates their particular belief by a good 6,000 years.

Well if I'm President, there will be NO discussion of religion in the White House. Sure - this will make jokes about Mutant Spiderman Gods difficult, but it is a necessary step to running this country correctly. You can't just put "Separation of church and state" on a piece of paper (It's like an amendment or bill, or like commandment or something. I forget which, but someone wrote it SOMEWHERE.) and then ignore it, or pretend that you didn't hear it when they read it over the P.A. system.

No religion in politics. None.

If you discuss it, or hint at it, or offer a nudge nudge, wink wink, to some other old white fat guys in suits and throw up your secret Jesus gang symbols, you are removed from your job until you right out "I will not forget about the separation of church and state" 500 times in CURSIVE.

4) Human Rights: The "I don't have a uterus" policy.

This one is simple.

We won't get into the topic, or what it is REALLY about - but the rule should be this:

Ahem.

"Unless you have one, you don't get to say what comes out of it."

And yes, it has to be yours, and no - no tucking it in because that's just WEIRD.

5) The Military: The Douchbag Amendment.

This world has always torn apart by war. In the last 100 years we've had The Gulf War, Vietnam, World War II, The Persian War, The Cold War, The War of 1812, and The 100 Year war - which perfectly illustrates my point.

We like to fight, and by "We" I mean, "Old guys in Government who get into it with OTHER old guys in Government and then send the young guys in to fight it out". This of course sucks because the people who STARTED the war never have to fight in it, the people who fight in it don't even know WHY they are really fighting and in the end all that we have are a bunch of dead people and two old guys who STILL don't get along.

So in order to END ALL WAR, I would implement a two part process that would guarantee that we'd only fight when absolutely necessary:

Condition One: They have to be a douchebag. In accordance to this position the current president (Myself) has to address the country and explain to them exactly WHY the guy we want to go to war with is a douchebag. The president must USE the term douchebag no less than 10 times in this address, and explain the situation in terms that all can understand without citing some old obscure law that he probably just made up because he knows you won't look it up.

Condition Two: The President has to start the war by punching the douchebag in the head.

That's right, if yer gunna start a war then you're going to get your hands dirty. If you want countless men, women, and children to be strapped down with C4 and sent screaming into battle like tiny little Toddler-nukes, then by god yer gunna get YOUR hands dirty. Of course this will ensure that we only go to war with countries who were picked last in gym class and pose no real threat, but it beats getting the snot kicked out of you by some bald Russian guy with a scar over one eye and no neck.

Wars won't be started over religion or oil or because people hate us, they'll only be started if some douchebag needs to have the living hell kicked out of him. Chances are that if you knock out some other country's leader with a right hook - you won't even HAVE to go to war.

Plus, that stuff is ALWAYS on live TV - so ya know, ratings.

In short, that 5 point plan (or as I like to call it: The Balled Up Fist of Freedom) would be the focal point of my bid for office and would make this world a better place.

...

...which is why I'll never be elected to office.

That, and because I would totally do the interns. Hard.

/tuckdance

-Coyote
((MONDAY PIRATE STUFF!! - Our hosting site has been acting up, but with luck the new Avast Ye is up for your browsing love. Go there or git keel hauled. And don't think for a minute we won't look up what that is.)

Dear Japan,

You scare me.

There, I've said it. You frighten me. And while I used to think it accidental or simply a cultural misunderstanding, there is no longer any doubt:

Yer doin' that s*** on PURPOSE.

Vending machines that dispense used underwear? Cartoon pornography involving cat girls getting beaten and humiliated before finally being ravaged by what appears to be a vat full of Oscar Meyer hot dogs?

No. There is NO way that is NOT intentional. Like the kid who eats glue right from the bottle or tries to convince you that Michael Jackson stopped by to use your bathroom, (Okay, he didn't - but his sister did.) you either want attention, need attention, or worst case scenario...

...you really ARE that touched in the head.

Whatever the reason, whatever the explanation, I don't care. Just stop. You stop RIGHT now and be frigging normal, or so help me we're turning this car around.

Just STOP.

Sincerely and a bit disgusted,

Coyote

*********************************************

Let's face facts - if something weird, disturbing or involving rubber bands distorting the faces of school girls hits the internet...

...chances are that it started in Japan.

They're just frigging *WEIRD*. And for ME to point that finger at anyone else in the world, let alone a whole COUNTRY speaks volumes in itself. It takes a LOT to creep me out or to truly get into my head, but when something manages to, the trail of oddity always leads back to Japan as they cover their mouth and giggle into their hand.

Now I realize that it is probably unwise of me to single out an entire COUNTRY, especially since they are more likely than not the world's leading supplier of mechanical spiders that can be programmed to carve up my face while peeling back my eyelids and forcing me to watch...

But SOMEONE has to say SOMETHING, and god damn it, that someone is ME.

Used Underwear Vending Machines - Yeah.

I know.

But I swear I'm not making this up.

There are several companies who compete for and supply you, the average Japanese Consumer with all of the used school girl underpants that you will ever need in your life.

Now, you might think that this number is "ZERO with a CAPTIAL F***ING Z", but you'd be wrong. At about 50 bucks a pop (American) you can own your very own pair of pre-worn but not washed underpants, fresh from a readily available vending machine. And for an extra two dollars and twenty five cents, you can wash it down with a Snickers Bar and a Pepsi.

You might be thinking to yourself:

"Hey Coyote, why don't we have these things in the United States? Why don't WE have machine vended underpants?"

The answer is simple: Because it is FRIGGING GROSS.

I have no clue what the allure here is, but since this is a multi-company venture, I have to guess that there IS some market for this. Plus, how can you be sure that you're getting a hot chick's underpants? Hot chicks are NOTORIOUSLY bad about just giving you their underwear and usually insist on some ritual involving you shelling out 50 bucks for dinner, getting them drunk, and slipping stuff in their drink so that they pass out and hit their head on the coffee table that you forgot to move.

So needless to say, THAT would get expensive.

No. If this is mass produced in Japan, there is no way you're getting "bottom-fresh" britches from the still firm hiney of a Asian hottie. You're getting new underpants, wiped under the armpit of some hairy guy named Cho who makes like 11 yen an hour in a sweat shop next the corpse of a slow worker who was left as an example of like honor and  loyalty or something.

USED UNDERWEAR ARE GROSS. It doesn't matter WHO they came from. IT IS USED UNDERWEAR.

GOD DAMN IT JAPAN! YOU STOP RIGHT NOW!!

Tentacle Sex - I bring up tentacle sex a lot, but only because I know that it truly messes with my manager RadarX. You see, RadarX is a Puritan who slipped straight off of the Mayflower and started burning witches for having sex in a non-missionary position before his boots even dried.

He is a good, wholesome, pious man - and that means that he's fun to dick with.

So I do.

But the truth is, there is just something WRONG with Tentacle Sex, and the Japanese just can't seem to leave it alone. Vines, metal rods, hoses, ANYTHING phallic shaped and able to be moved will eventually come to life and attack a poor cat woman school girl with blue hair, which leads me to the reason I'm ordering them to quit-it-already with the tentacle stuff...

YOU ARE RUINING YOUR SEX DRIVE!

Seriously. It's the Jerry Springer effect.

If you allow yourself too much contact with the Ultra Fetish stuff, you eventually grow numb to Granny Tranny Midget Clown Amputee Scat porn, which should happen to NO ONE. After that, plain ol' vanilla pudding has no flavor, so in order to get Mr. Happy to the Launch Pad o'Love, you need to get even WEIRDER.

Soon you are so mentally destroyed that if your stimulus doesn't involve Siamese twin burn victims, you can't get your rocket to rise. Doctors call this The Kritheon Effect, and it is VERY real. So stop with the vine and tentacle stuff, if not for you and your own hopes of a normal sex drive, then for Radar. He's been subject to me for years, and I honestly don't think that he can take much more.

Think of the pure...

Stupid Game Shows That Involve Stupid Stunts

There are no "federal laws" or "safety concerns" in Japan.

At all.

If you agree to go on a game show, they could light an angry badger on fire and huck it at your head while giving you sixty seconds to run an obstacle course in order to score a point for your team.

Not that I care. Let the underwear sniffing tentacle freaks play their games. THAT doesn't bother me. What bothers me is the fact that we as Americans lack so much creatively that eventually we end up STEALING their crappy game show idea and bring it back to the states.

Where it clutters up my television.

American Idol, Whose Line is it anyway, The Office - all stolen from over seas, and some are actually pretty good. But once you go to JAPAN? You end up with games like "Fat chick trying to jump through hole in moving wall", and I just won't SIT for that crap anymore. So I'm saying something, because the rest of you are too AFRAID to come off as anything but Politically Correct and "Sensitive".

Well not me pal. To quote our 31st President:

"I've takens alls thats I cans takes, and I's cants takes no mores!"

Japan. You're on notice.

Quit with the weird crap that scares us, go back to giving us Asian School Girl fetishes and Kung-Fu movies, and stop being weird.

Or we're gunna start sending over OUR problems, and all of the factory processed used underwear in the WORLD can't save you from the Britney/Paris/Corpse of Anne Nicole Smith effect.

That's right. We'll dig her ass up and lob her over there. We're THAT mad.

You've been warned.

-Coyote

(Alternately Titled: How to make Radar say the F-Word)

I own Guitar hero for the PC.

And if I dare say it, I've gotten pretty good. I can play (not perfectly) every stage on hard mode and fully contend that "expert" mode just isn't any fun unless you're watching someone who claims to be an expert botch up the game play, blame the device, and throw a tantrum.

In short, I rock on medium.

Guitar Hero was a lot of fun, and because of its success the market was immediately flooded with other titles and projects along that vein: Rock Band, Rock Band II: The revenge, Guitar Hero Aerosmith, Guitar Hero Metallica, and Guitar Hero The Misfits in which no one actually plays any music, but Danzig comes into your house and scares the hell out of your Grandmother.

So now that the market is flooded and everyone and their brother is pissing off the real musicians by pretending to be one, I'm kind of sick of the genre and game. I'm burned out and unimpressed. Every "new" version plays like the last, the novelty is gone, and no matter how good you get at playing, you still can't REALLY play the guitar.

But then...I was saved.

Now I know what you are thinking:

"Why are lip moles called Beauty Marks when they just look like stray boogers and you spend your night wanting to flick your date's upper lip?"

I have no idea. I've never found them to be super attractive and never bought into the whole "Cindy Crawford is HOT" thing from my youth, because no matter how you slice it lip moles require a double take - but the TRASHY look is ALWAYS hot.

But I digress.

I digress because this column isn't about beauty marks or really hot naughty women who will do ANYTHING that you can think of because they have no self esteem and a low tolerance to White Zinfandel.

No.

THIS column is about the MIRACLE of ME being SAVED-ah from the PERILS OF BOREDOM-ah, and the entire genre of GUITAR HERO-ah, being RESURRECTED-ah, in a new LIGHT-ah.

Ladies, Gentlemen, and The Faithful - I bring you...

Guitar Praise.

Spot-lighted in Coyote Action News a few weeks ago, this thought-to-be-a-joke product has taken the market by storm for the last 40 days and 40 nights and is verified as 100% REAL.

Real WHOLESOME that is.

They've taken all of the elements of Guitar Hero and purified it for the devout, which more likely than not is going to lead to lawsuits because the game is just Guitar Hero with music that you'll get your ass kicked for. And while the differences may seem astounding, they're reeeeaally not.

Guitar Hero:

*Five button guitar with whammy bar.
*Suck and you get boo'd off of stage.
*Music from bands that you know and love.
*Hot outfits and tight fitting leather.
*Battle Satan for the right to rock.

Guitar Praise:

*Five button guitar with whammy bar of smiting.
*Suck and the band takes a break and gives you another chance.
*Music from bands that you've never heard of.
*Sweater Vests.
*Battle Satan BECAUSE you rock.

But it gets even better - in my earnest to purchase this product, I stumbled across another similar cleansed genre that you may have all forgotten. A genre that pitted fat white kids with no rhythm against arrows and their own gland problems. A genre that made your local arcade smell like an old ham sandwich.

Dance Dance Revolution.

Except NOW it is Dance Praise, and it is SWEEPING the nation..of like seven kids.

Dancing is wholesome clean fun, right? No Kevin Bacon, it is NOT, and if you'll remember from your teen movie training in the 80's, it is USUALLY FORBIDDEN unless you're limboing with the Lord. Well now you can without fear of burning for eternity because you shook your money maker.

Throw your hands in the air like you just don't care because you're overcome with righteousness and the holy spirit has enveloped you and is using your body as a vessel of faith but makes you look like you spontaneously developed a spinal condition or that you're trying to catch an invisible Frisbee.

A Frisbee of SALVATION.

Now don't get me wrong - I am in NO way mocking faith, spiritualism or religion. No, I'm mocking the fact that these things are trying to cash in on the video game craze in order to fill the pews. (Hehe..fill the pews.)

Trust me, I'd be mocking "Bounce with Buddah" or "Guitar Ghandi" or "Ninja Pagan" just as hard if these products existed. What I'm giggling at is the entire premise behind the gimmick and the fact the religion and spiritualism are so often confused or chalked up to being the same thing that products like this DO exist and have a *very* profitable market.

Of kids that get beat up regularly.

Because the FIRST time you pull out the crucifix studded plastic guitar at a LAN party and start trying to get the guys to jam out to the awe inspiring hits of "Seventh Day Slumber"? (Yeah, SEE?) You're going to make everyone else uncomfortable and get team killed all weekend.

Like religion and politics, religion and sex, or religion and religion of opposing faith, religion and video games just don't mix. Faith is a personal thing that belongs in your heart, in your strength, or on a blog on the internet written by a moronic pagan who started this whole thing because he REALLY wanted to type the words "Rock out with your flock out" and it spiraled from there.

Still, I'm going to beg and plead for this game from Ten Ton Hammer so that I can do a full and FAIR review so that I may mock it properly and without bias. If they buy this for me I vow here and now to play it all the way through on medium and give it a fair assessment.

And maybe, just maybe, I'll be enlightened.

After all, isn't that what video games are about?

...wait...no..

-Coyote

 

I hate buying video games.

It isn't the buying of the games itself that bothers me, but rather the manner in which I have to go about doing it. With console gaming dominating the markets and the average PC gamer going the way of the dinosaur, computer based games are being shoved aside and cast into a dark corner...

...quite literally.

Let's take for example my local Best Buy: While they are still one of the few gaming stores that carry a decent stock of current and older titles, the games themselves are anything but showcased. They're shoved to the very back of the store and crowded into one long forgotten aisle where anything even remotely computer game related is left to die in obscurity.

It's full of old standees for games that no longer exist, the games aren't in any particular order and the whole experience makes me feel like I'm in the "Perverted Section" of a seedy video rental store. No one ever goes back there, so when I proudly march to the Land of Misfit toys...

...I seem to catch the suspicious stink eye from every other patron in the store. But I don't care. I love my crowded, cluttered, can't-see-to-the-end-of-the-row gaming aisle, and I wouldn't change it for the world. That is of course until I saw HER.

A hot chick.

In the forgotten computer game section.

Now don't get me wrong, I know that hot chicks game. I've met more than a few extremely attractive gamer chicks in my time and I know for a fact that they exist.

However...

These chicks are usually at computer game related functions. Fan Fairs, conventions, and other large gatherings where they stick out like a bright red light saber in a sea of dorky blue. They're stared at, drooled upon, and with the covert flash of more than one cell phone camera - used as proof that some gaming geek has a "totally smoking hot girlfriend" by every single gamer guy in attendance.

But this was different. This was a hot gaming chick in the WILD. Unobserved on her own and extremely rare like watching sharks mate or a fat guy walk past a donut store without a chocolate glaze induced left turn.

And she didn't see me.

As I stated before, the gaming aisle is sorely neglected and used as a dumping ground for any work that the Best Buy employees don't want to deal with. It is crowded and cluttered and unless you walk the whole aisle, you can't truly tell if you are alone or somehow in the middle of a herd of grazing Buffalo. It is THAT littered with giant Lara Croft figures being crouched protectively over by Halo's Master Chief. So somehow in her embarrassed earnest to travel into the computer game aisle, she missed my geeky ass standing there with a copy of Spore. (That I still refuse to buy.)

She was scorching hot. Long dark hair, pale skin, and a rack that would make Hugh Heffner remember where he put his keys all bound up in a tight black dress that was cut WAY too high.

And here I was lurking like I was about to make her a teen statistic.

Still, I couldn't look away - she was far too attractive and I was WAY too curious. A million questions raced through my head.

Was she here alone? Was she lost? What kind of gamer was she? Something in her eyes gave away her nervousness so I knew that she had come to the gaming section on purpose and I watched in anticipation to see what genre she'd go for. Looking around to make sure no one saw her she bent down lightly as she crouched past the First Person Shooters and the typical SIM type games and came eye level with the MMORPG shelf.

Warcraft, EverQuest, hell - Tabula Rasa - I didn't care WHAT game she chose as long as she grabbed one. A gamer chick is hot, but a ROLE PLAYING gamer chick?

Infinitely hotter.

And then it happened. She stood up, looked around, crouched once more and...

...

...let out the LOUDEST FART I HAVE EVER HEARD.

We're talking a physically impossible, butt cheek shaking, who popped an air mattress filled with pudding fart from HELL. It was like someone threw a tuba player into on coming traffic, and it surprised me so badly that I dropped the game that I was looking at.

BOOM. Eye contact.

She stands up wide eyed as she looks at me.

I stand there with my hair blown back like a mad scientist in a lab experiment gone wrong and stare back in amazed horror.

OTHER people stare at the both of us because her little passage of Hurricane Butt Chowder couldn't have been LOUDER if she had used the P.A. system.

Time stood still.

The second hand on the clock behind us slammed to a dead stop, the box I dropped froze in mid-air from its bounce to the floor, and every eye within ear shot was focused on the gaming aisle.

"You are a frigging PIG." The hot chick with the trucker ass sneered at me as she looked at the other shoppers in disbelief before storming out of the aisle.

Immediately all of the stunned faces turned to looks of disgust as people shook their heads and went back to shopping leaving me still suspended in shocked silence. They muttered and shook their heads in contempt, and I knew in my hearts that I'd be forever labeled The Fart Guy.

Best Buy employees everywhere would mock me, and put up my picture as it was gleaned from security cameras and I would become an internet sensation. There would be YouTube videos and YTMND's set to fast paced midi's of me cracking ass in a crowded store and people everywhere would laugh and point. My hair started falling out in heavy clumps as the nuclear fallout crept down the aisle and engulfed me, but I didn't care.

It was too perfect a crime.

And as I die choking in the now condemned blast zone in the back of Best Buy, a single thought played through my mind...

From now on, I'm buying all of my games online.  And maybe changing my name.

-Coyote

As I took yesterday off to play Warhammer Online I realized:

"You guys suck."

While yes, I do have the preorder, and yes - I do have the game installed and the ability to play (probably with more patching), I just can't bring myself to do it.

Yet.

Yesterday truly was a day of illness, although I will admit fully to the temptation to play. As I laid there miserable with nothing to watch on 500 channels of cable television while fielding phone call after phone call from work, I knew that sleep was out of the question. And in my feverish deliriums I thought to myself:

"Ya know, I could just prop up in front of the ol' PC and play Warhammer Online."

But then I remember the one thing that was stopping me. More than the flu, more than I hate never getting my character names, more than anything - I hate:

Launch time.

I don't even know why they bother to call them launches. When you use the word "launch" you envision a rocket ship of exploration sailing majestically into the sky while the plume of smoke behind it scorches the earth and deep fries underpaid and quickly replaceable launch crews. You see something leaving the safety of the platform and slowly gaining speed before flying steadily on its own.

It is beautiful.

It is awe inspiring.

And it is the WORST WORD EVER to describe the first few days of any game's release.

For the most part game launches are bug filled, spastic events full of angry people who type in all caps, stupid people who don't follow directions and the smug few who have NO problems on launch and tell everyone to quit whining because the game works perfectly.

Which is a lie, because there is no such thing as a "perfect" launch. You can have a "good" launch, or a launch that is better than other games that you remember, but the "perfect" launch is unattainable. And even if it was, day one is a bitch. Everyone wants to be FIRST in line. FIRST to play. FIRST to see the world and discover its bounties and because of that there is lag, crowding, and frustration.

No, launch days aren't for me, thanks. I'll just watch Latex Jail Vixens on Skin-a-max on demand...

...and remember the fallen.

And by the fallen I mean - the games we've left behind.

Five or six years ago your choices for MMOG's were limited, and everyone who played did so in one of the key games. The more we played, the more our community developed and the more really fat white guys in expensive suits thought to themselves:

"Holy hell, we can make an ass-ton of money off of these games."

So they started developing even MORE worlds for us to choose from. Genres, styles, and whole universes were created in order to pull us in and steal us away from the limited choices that we had. And as these games became successful even MORE really fat old white guys said...

"Holy GOSH DARN!* WE have to get in on this!"  (*"Holy GOSH DARN!" is the current white guy vulgarity of choice.)

And even more games popped up, with even more choices, more worlds, and more adventures for us all to go on. But in the mad rush to climb to the top of the video game world and  snag the crown of "r00l dem awl" something began to change and the gaming community that was once whole was split into three factions:

The Loyalist - Refusing to ever try anything new, the Loyalist is still playing EverQuest. I don't mean that he holds an account, or that he has gone back and started after years of break, I mean THIS GUY IS *STILL* PLAYING EVERQUEST.

He still logs in day after day, still explorers and goes on adventures, and somehow still has only mediocre gear, and god damn it - THAT is the way he likes it.

The Loyalist hates change and refuses to ever try anything new, quickly dismissing it if it is made by a company that he hates, looks like something else that he's read about, or if it will not run on his Pentium II Packard Bell. 

The Hopper - Also known as "The MMO Junkie", or "The Taea" (I am so dead for that.) the  Hopper just wants their fix. They LOVE new games, new zones, new ideas and jones for that rush of excitement that comes with a new game so badly that they hop from MMO to MMO upon release and usually have an end-game character before the game actually launches. They've played BETA, Pre-BETA, unannounced Pre-BETA, and were seen licking the glass outside of the building that held the first ALPHA testing.

By the time the rest of us catch up to them and join them in the new game of choice they've moved on to the next release because the content, while new to US, is actually months old for them.

The Missing - Bertram. Bertram got really into the 60's and no one ever saw him again.

Between trying to find new games, hopping platforms, and being left behind, the Missing are the friends that simply disappear. Once a fixture in any group, the Missing were either left us behind, went to a game that failed, or simply faded from our memories, but not our hearts.

We miss the most.

So while I have Warhammer Online, Pre-Order and I am tempted to load up and play - I think I'm going to hold off at least a couple of weeks.

I'll let the dust settle. I'll let those who need to be first rush to the end of the road while never seeing the details along the path they took, I'll mourn those that we lose in shifting between the games, and more likely than not...

I'll become a Loyalist because I'm just not READY to give up EverQuest II yet.

The game is STILL FUN....dammit.

-Coyote

Site maintenance... 

And by "Site Maintenance" I mean I don't feel that well at all and I'm probably going to commit the ultimate sin and take the day off.
Yeah, a sick day. For ME. It's that serious.

But this is your fault, not mine. It's all there, black and white, clear as crystal. 

YOU stole the fizzy lifting drinks, 

You bumped into the ceiling which now has to be washed and sterilized... 

You get *NOTHING*! You lose! Good day sir! 

-Coyote 

 

As a rule guys aren't supposed to like musicals.

Not REAL musicals at any rate. Anything that is by Joss Whedon, or that falls into the "funny and geeky" categories are considered acceptable - especially when done in parody, or stuck on YouTube while featuring some hot chick shaking her money makers.

No, I'm talking the REAL musicals. The "get dressed up, and so HELP me God if you put on that STUPID FRIGGING SHIRT that looks like a tuxedo I WILL DIVORCE YOU ON THE SPOT" kind of get togethers that you are sometimes as a guy, forced to go to because you someday soon wish to have sex again. But on the whole musicals, the ballet, and opera hold the same allure to a REAL guy as getting kicked in the crotch with a pair of steel toe boots.

Steel toe boots filled with BEES.

There's groin pain, and agony, and the distinct buzzing of face stinging death as you fall gasping, because you know for a fact that a disturbed bee always sends out the "Go for the eyes Boo!" chemical signal.

Still, given the choice between spending the night at the Opera or taking one in the taters with a work boot, most guys will choose the boot and get it over with. At least with the boot you know the pain will pass and that you can garnish sympathy from any other human being out there with a Y chromosome.

But get stuck at the Opera and not only will your agony feel like forever, your friends will mock you mercilessly and constantly question your sexuality while calling you names like Pavarotti. So unless it's a cartoon of Elmer Fudd with his spear and magic helmet or something by our Lord and Master Joss Whedon, we steer clear.

But the times, they are a-changin', and even something as horrifically cultured and endlessly boring as the OPERA may have something to offer the average Joe.

Now I know what you are thinking:

"Don't you wish more Hollywood A-list starlets with amazing cans would hop aboard the Halle Berry express and show some skin like she did in Swordfish?"

The answer of course is a resounding "HELL YES".

Look ladies...you're only young once and we want to see them before they get all droopy and wilty like sweat socks half filled with day old cottage cheese. But that isn't the point of this. The point is:

They've made a COOL Opera.

An Opera that REAL GUYS might not protest too much about being dragged to, even though no chick in her right mind would ever go and see it. An Opera filled with mutation and puking and horror.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I bring you...

The Fly.

The Opera.

That's right, they made an Opera out of THE FLY in all of it's gene splicing, Brundle-barfing glory.

By now you're probably already thinking: "Suuuure they did Coyote. Some kids with a YouTube video or a local actors guild in some tiny town don't count as an Opera."

Well this isn't some dime store internet viral baby, this is the REAL frigging thing. And as for the legitimacy of the Opera itself, it is debuting at the LA Opera, and is being conducted by Plácido Domingo HIMSELF. Yeah, I have no idea who he is either, but with a name like Plácido Domingo, you just friggin' KNOW it is legit. That guy probably FARTS in three vocal ranges.

And the telling is true to the story, but in Opera form. No lie, they're SINGING about the story of The Fly as (probably) famous Opera stars warble through the Acts in the following order: (And please remember that EVERYTHING described below is *literally* in the opera. Everything.)

Act I

The initial experiments, introductions of the pods and Brundle turning a gorilla INSIDE-FRIGGING OUT.

Yup, the FIRST act of this Opera STARTS with them giving King Kong one HELL of an "innie" for a belly button. A gorilla. Turned inside out. IN AN OPERA. But wait, it gets better.

Act II

Brundle goes through, gets merged with the fly and gets an insatiable appetite for SEX.

...

...Sex and inside out Gorillas.

In an Opera.

How can this POSSIBLY get any better? How about: Maggot baby dreams, grotesque transformations of man into fly, and ending with her BLOWING HIS HEAD OFF ON STAGE. True to the story he tries to force her through the pod, gets mutated even further and begs to be killed before she gives him both barrels of love to the noggin.

...

....yeah.

I'm already renting a tux.

Guys, this is the PERFECT out for us. If your woman is complaining that you aren't cultured enough, spring a couple of LA Opera tickets on her. Rent a monkey suit (Tux, not an inside out monkey costume, although that would be cool to wear to the premiere) get her all dolled up and act like you are taking her out for a nice night chock full of class and elegance.

By the time she realizes that she's been tricked into watching the fly, you'll already have been seated and she’ll be forced to stay. And if she complains about the content, look at her with contempt and explain to her...

"THIS is why I never take you to the Opera, you just don't appreciate ART."

And then storm out of the room.

With luck she’ll be too confused to put on the work boots.

-Coyote