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The Silence of the Me’s.


This has been my life for so long now.  Kill me.


As you may have noticed, you’ve not been noticing me very much – not here anyhow.  I did write an enormous pseudo-review of Dead-Space during a bit of sleep deprived, middle-of-the-night dementia a while back, but never posted it for fear that it was actually an incantation summon the old ones that I hit upon out of sheer, dumb luck.  I mean, the thing really did just ramble on and on.  All that when I should have been working.  

And I’ll ask you to be a bit patient, dry those eyes of yours, and please, change your pants, because I’ll be back just as soon as I take care of a lil thing that’s gotten to be a huge pain in the ass for something that none of you may ever see, unless you play your cards just right and have what it takes to be invited into my sexy rape-van of dreams, ya dig?

Either way, I’d love to sit around and stare blankly at you, recalling the days when I had all the time in the world to tell you how horrible you probably are, but I really must get back to my work.  

Now get outta the van!


Deathmatch: Das Concludin’s


Poor Clancy.

Thanks everyone who submitted to my will and to the first Deathmatch extravaganza. A few of you made it in too late, and to be fair will be shot in neck and left out of this particular contest, but there’s always next time.

Learned a lot, actually, from the the results of the guidelines I set out, not the least of which is the fact that a disturbing percentage of you don’t seem to fathom the concept of guidelines, so next time the rules will be even more heinous and defined, allowing for even less of the filth

to pass through the quality filters. Pretty cool, huh? I think so, too. That’s all to be fine tuned in the future, but one thing I know for certain is that no one will be allowed to send in photographs of drawings. I swear, I got so many entries that looked like they were drawn on binder paper between remedial classes and then photographed with the free camera phone that came with their parents’ family plan that I could fill an entire other flickr set with them. No more of that, you you chintzy bastards.

But I gotta say, it’s a pretty decent haul, all in all, and it’ll actually be pretty tough to pick winners. I have a few people pleading to be part of the post mortem mutilation of some of the worst of the worst, so even deciding that will be a bit of a trick.

For those who haven’t checked out all the entries, or those who have done so but just can’t get enough punishment, go HERE to enjoy fine Bigfoot renderings.