See now? The Civiballs is back. I told you if you don’t wipe them out the first time they’ll just come back even worse than before. You gotta keep using that special shampoo even if it looks like they’re all gone.

Here’s another Ragdoll Cannon squeal for you. *squeals*

Any game that can incorporate Victorian era women using the phrase “What the deuce?” gets immediately posted here. It’s one of those rules that can’t be broken… what do you call them? Right, a Commandment.

It always starts with a small favor. Maybe you do some dog sitting for an afternoon, or just proof read someone’s resume. But next thing you know you’re helping carry a washing machine up two flights of stairs, and not long after that you’re dressed in assless chaps dancing to Rihanna in front of a live webcam. Trust me, just say no.

Every once and a while a game comes along that really pushes the limits of… my html layouts. I’m serious, this thing is frickin’ wide.

Werewolves are nothing to be afraid of, just think of them as really grumpy furries. If you trap them in a room with internet access they’ll be quite happy using the time to update their LiveJournal page instead of eating you.

My least favorite part is getting smothered by the balls.

There’s an age-old saying where I come from: if it looks like Tetris, if it feels like Tetris, and if it tastes like Tetris when you smother your monitor in long loving licks, then it is Tetris.

Aim for the heads. For logistical reasons all stickman vital organs are crammed into their cranial region. Except for the lower intestine, which travels in a straight line from their head right down to the poop chute. Now see? Don’t tell me you never learn anything from coming here.

You know what else kills? Lots of stuff. Though apparently being bitten or crushed by reptiles does not.

After their last epic breast – sorry, quest – our heroes struggle to rebuild their devastated world. But behind the scenes an ambitious man gathers an army of breasts and machines, rampaging across… wait, beasts and machines. Not wanting to allow these jugs – thugs – to… you know, just nevermind.

If real life were just like the world of the Hungry Shapes, I would be a big fat square and as red as a lobster with a sunburn. Because I loooooooove me some hamburgers.

It may take you a few tries, but finishing this one is almost as satisfying as getting the cake song at the end of Portal.

There’s an important lesson to be learned here – as a Roman emperor, if you base your reign upon cruelty, extravagance, and sexual perversity, you get awesome online games made in your honor. If you base your reign upon political and military conquest, you get a salad named after you.

Finally, a way to enjoy the challenges of golf without exposing yourself to harmful UV rays. And harmful human contact. And harmful pant fibers.

Traversed by a grey skinned fellow,
With tusks a whiteish-yellow,
and kisses like shots of Grape Jello.

Spoiler Alert: Grandma gets eaten.

Wrah wrah wrah wrah wrah.

Mena-mena-mena-mena!

Hooray! It’s the weekend. Who’s got exciting plans? I’m not doing much, just gonna catch up on True Blood episodes and pick the porcupine quills out of my lips. Hey, don’t judge – those things look just like groundhogs from far away.

I’ve always had trouble with the word “shuriken”. I just want to say “shrunken”, and trying to say it the right way makes my lips pucker up like I’m kissing a wet piece of liver and the sound that comes out is more like chronic stuttering than it is human speech. So I just call them throwing stars.