Games

Last Blossom is actually my Xbox Live username. Out of all my high school friends, I’m the only one still proudly wearing a chastity ring.

If I had a lawn you can bet I’d tell people to stay off it. Currently I only need to worry about people stepping on the edge of my cardboard box. And technically the alley is city property.

I’m pretty sure the stepping stones of my life are leading me to become a famous neurosurgeon. That or a door-to-door salesman of tube socks, it’s not quite clear yet.

I heard some guys suffer from preluding too soon, but I don’t know anything about that.

I was in the Mafia once. You may have heard of me, I was known by the moniker ‘the Limoncello’. My specialty was torturing people for information by showing them bulldog puppies and not letting them zurbert their bellies.

Sure, TD might stand for Tower Defense, but it might also stand for Teen Drama. And we all know how much you guys love a good teen drama. *air guitars 90210 theme*

The title of this game brings back bad memories of an unsuccessful experiment I once did. I won’t go into gory details, I’m just gonna share the moral of the story: never ever try to create a human-house centipede hybrid.

That’s me, Mr. Admin. I crawled through a river of poop and came out clean on the other side.

When push comes to shove, I always defend my nuts before anything else. I can recover from an intracranial hemorrhage (more or less), but we all know the future of humanity is questionable without my genetic material in the pool.

I’m not sure what’s this game about, but I’m afraid to play it and find out it has nothing to do with illegal substances. After a terrible defeat at the church bingo yesterday, I’m not sure I could survive another disappointment.

I once tried to lose a few pounds by doing this secret Hollywood diet called “The Skullface”. Basically you drink a glass of water every 2 days and a glass of motor oil on the days in between. It worked quite well, although I did end up with a strange metabolic disorder that I wanna describe for you but it’s quite NSFW.

I know that Christmas is behind us, but for crying out loud- someone make this monkey happy NOW. I can’t stand it.

It starts with a few sweet hits off that bubble pipe, and before you know it you’ve got your face buried in a bubble bong every Saturday night. Then it won’t be long until you’re inviting business men into a bathroom stall so you can buy sheets of bubble wrap to squeeze at night. The bubble pipe is a gateway drug.

Okay, now that this whole Christmas ordeal is out of the way I can focus on what’s really important: training for the 2016 Olympics. I just have to pick a discipline, and I’m all set.