Spread the zombie virus on a global scale in the latest installment of the Infectonator series.

Angry Husky: *poooooooooops*

Experience the thrill of driving a truck around a nickel mine in Sudbury, Ontario – all from the comfort of your own home. Video games are great!

In my dreams the bloons and the monkey are reversed. I am in control of a flying Super Balloon, plowing through waves of airborne monkeys with a hailstorm of darts, showering the forest below in a rain of primate hair, blood and organs.

Cause ima cowboy, on this neon-crotch-rocket iah ride, and I’m wanted (Richie Sambora: waaaaahned-ied) dead-or-alive.

As this commercial clearly demonstrates.

Wreckin’ stuff – almost as satisfying as scaring cats.

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

Happy New Year! Enjoy your champagne and revelry, I’m taking the day off tomorrow.

Angry Husky: (you friggin lazy punk!)

If I were a zombie I wouldn’t bother running around trying to bite people in order to spread my undead infection. Instead, I would setup beside the road on days of large marathons and hand out water to runners from a barrel infected with my zombie saliva. See? Even dead I’m still brilliant.

Ah, riding a bike with no pants. I can think of nothing more pleasurable, except for perhaps chasing butterflies though a summer field, with no pants.

Ah, sweet sweet crude, aka petroleum, aka “The Black Gold”. Not to be confused with “The Brown Gold”, known to many by it’s consumer name, Nutella. I would smear that stuff into my eyes if it made the taste last longer (it doesn’t, I tried).

If I built a castle and it looked even half as silly as some of these, I would construct a trebuchet using the bones of my wife, the tendons from my children, and the hide of my dog. I would launch my own body at the castle over and over until it was completely destroyed and any trace of the shame it brought to me was erased from existence.

It’s just like Star Wars, but with rafts instead of stars. Also, no lightsabers.

Well here I was thinking this was a Halloween game, but turns out those aren’t piles of zombies – they’re piles of clones. I suck. Halloween is ruined.

FINALLY. A way to kill the monkey.

Well fruitcakes, another Christmas is upon us. I hope yours is very merry and you have a safe and happy time over the holidays. And always remember the lessons the baby jesus has taught us: it is your birthright to receive gifts today, and webmasters are super sexy.

I may not know where Sassari is, but if they made one of these for Taco Bells and strip clubs within a 10 mile radius I would destroy you guys.

So, the game is good and all but… what exactly am I looking at here? Are those little guys the storks? I fully understand the process of human procreation – it starts with kissing and ends with a room full of babies, but I’m a little hazy on the in between details.

Grab the parrot, throw on your sexiest pair of tights, and buckle your swashes (swash your buckles?) – there is treasure to be found, but only the fastest pirate gets the boot-boot-booty.

Although my motocross racing days are behind me (thanks to a massive groin injury), I can still enjoy this… hmmm? Oh, no, the groin injury wasn’t caused by racing. How? Well, I really can’t get into it here… but let’s just say it involved Petra Nemcova, 20 gallons of grape jello, and a full grown whippet.

I’ve got a fever, and the only prescription is:

a) coated 200 mg Advil tablets.
b) more cowbell.
c) raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens.

Looking at today’s thumbnail, two questions may spring to mind: 1) is it Dig Your Own Grave Fish Week or something? And 2) is that goldfish swinging a mace? The answers to your questions are 1) I’m thinking about it and 2) hell yes.

You thought I was kidding about Fish Week didn’t you? Honestly I had my doubts as well, but I tell you – it doesn’t matter how crazy your dream is, with a little elbow grease and some help from your friends, anything is possible. Especially if one of your friends is the baby Jesus.

And so The Great Fish Week of 2008 comes to a close. Truthfully, I’m a little sad. We had some good times with those slimey little guys, but all good things must come to an end. Anyways, I gotta get this trout out of my pants now.

(Use your prettiest fishiest picture for the highscores!)

I’m convinced that mechanical engineers are warlocks. Burn them at the stake!

This game demands to be played while puffing on a toy bubble pipe and wearing a musty tweed smoking jacket.

PS: Sorry if you’ve been getting hammered with popups today. I am trying to track down the offending advertiser.

Well surprise surprise. You’ve gotten yourself trapped in a room again. You know – you might want to consider carrying a bit of C4 in your purse from now on.

(yeah, I said ‘purse’. You got a problem with that, lady?)

Advance Wars meets Flash meets my absence of pants.

If my deep understanding of women has taught me one thing, it’s that women love guys with big trucks. And beer bellies. So play hard at this game, and start drinking cheap beer as soon as local law will allow.

Way back in 1972, a company called Atari released what many people believe was the first ever video game. And today, 36 years of human and technological advancement has finally brought us the sequel.

In the future as I see it, cars will still be cars, except instead of steering wheels and pedals, there will just be a giant set of WASD keys on the dashboard. Also, the engine will be powered by urine.

It is a well documented fact that decorated World War II Air Chief Marshal Sir Foxley Neilson, refused to wear pants while flying missions on Wednesdays. Henceforth, Wednesdays have been commonly referred to as “Nopantsdays”, and only jerks wear pants on this, the most sacred of all weekdays.

I think we can all agree that Zombie Baseball is about 100% more entertaining than regular baseball. But let’s be honest, clipping your toenails is also about 100% more entertaining than regular baseball.

Main Entry: rage
Pronunciation: \ˈrāj\
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English, from Anglo-French, from Late Latin rabia, from Latin rabies rage, madness, from rabere to be mad; to be forced to wear pants

I think this game is broken. I can’t find the Yahtzee button anywhere.

If you’re anything like me, the first thing that comes to mind when you hear ‘pool’, is ’swimming pool’. And thinking of a swimming pool makes me want to pee in it, because it’s such a warm, friendly feeling. And by this point I’ve usually wet my pants.

Snowboarding looks pretty cool, but personally I prefer sports that are performed in a much warmer climate. And don’t require a space helmet for safety. Or bind my legs. Or make me hemorrhage into my skull. I’m just not a big fan of brain swelling.

Going back to yesterday’s discussion about RPGs, I will say they do have one common upside – no techno soundtracks.

By the end of 2009 you will still be unemployed and in debt, 10 pounds heavier, one year closer to death, and will still have never kissed a girl. But – you’ll be most excellent at stacking things.

Now the way I was raised, the term “Eskimo” is not considered very politically correct. The preferred term is actually “Inuit”. And we all know what that means – it’s time for you to rise up and fight this injustice. And it’s time for me to see what’s on the Tivo.

Anyone who’s at least 400 years old like I am might remember my favorite childhood nursery rhyme, “Roly Poly pudding and blackberry pie…”. This game reminded me of that, so I used the google to find out what roly-poly is. Turns out it’s actually a disgusting bug. My childhood was a lie.

Bowja’s back. Bow Chicka Bow Wow.

Weekend’s here folks! I’d love to say something about this game, but I gotta get on the horn and have a KFC Variety Big Box Meal delivered – for breakfast. Gonna start this weekend off right.