Dead Rising, oh save system where art thou?

Sales to die for...

As you all probably know I am an avid videogamer: 1) When the mood strikes me, 2) When I got the time, 3) Can't remember what I wanted to write in spot 3 but you are still reading this, so you probably have way too much free time in your hands anyway. In all my time spent inside videogaming worlds of various quality and sense ("sense?" What was that all about? A momentary involentarily lapse into logic it seems... hmmm worrying isn't it...)there is one unanimous concept that makes a smile light my nearly perfect face ('nearly' just because I am modest you see): "Killing zombies is good!". I mean what is not to like: "They are dumb, they attack me so it is definitely self defense and they are already dead! Thus, finishing them off is practically an act of mercy since I essentially return them back 'home' being the gaming humanitarian that I am" . If you have ever heard a more wacky rationalization of videogaming on-screen violence I will eat M and Ms until I burst or take their colour (which would make my life highly unpleasant or full of potential and opportunity respectively, LOL! I am a man of ambition after all... LOL!). Now, before you lose what little sense you got left in you dear readers, I will move in for the kil.... I mean I will proceed to the (preferrably undead) meat of this post.

Ah, my adoring blogging fans... Can't wait to read the rest of the post... Who would have thought they would reach such extremes to 'eat' my words of wacky wisdom:).

Once upon a time there was a game called "Dead Rising" and let me tell you it wasn't about impotent old geezers that were feasting on tons of Viagra and had their "deads" "up" and looking for "action"(which would make for a true survival horror game conceptually, come to think of it, LOL!). This game was about zombies in a Shopping Mall, much like the 'Dawn of the Dead' movie(and I am talking about the old movie where zombies were overtaken by turtles speedwise and not about the recent remake where zombies could easily outrun Usain Bolt ). The story of the game begins with the player taking control of the photojournalist Frank West (what a rare and strange name... NOT!). The guy lands in the middle of a zombie infested Mall and the objective is to survive in the place for 3 days until the pilot comes back to pick him up. In the meantime, Frank's "diet of choice" is simple: find out what is going on, take pictures of anything remotely interesting or not and mow down zombies using anything he can get his hands on (excluding killer stileto heels ladies, some "weapons" are better left untouched my male hands...) in the store!!! Now, conceptually this game is a wannabe zombie killer's wet dream of sorts since your choice of weapons include things like a lawnmower machine, chainsaws, swords, bowling balls, CDs and anything you can get your hands on. Literally, if you can pick something up, it can kill a zombie somehow. So then, the game is cool for satisfying the amateur sadist that we all have deep within (or is that just me... damn... here I come baring my insane soul to the masses once more, LOL!).

A fine specimen of the deranged gallery of human psychos that had holed up in the Mall during the zombie outbreak... Ah, the shopping mall, such a warm and welcoming place...:).

So, now that I have established that the game is an orgy of twisted fun let's see where it all went downhill. And when I say downhill, I mean lower than an undead's dress sense and self esteem and that is officially as LOW as it gets!!! The game's main story is structured as case files much like the episodes of a TV series where certain events need to be completed by a certain time limit. If time permits, there are lots of side missions to keep busy (all of them suitably bloody I assure ya, so this is no game for the vegetarians among you). The problem is that the time frame is too strict and if you fail to finish one scenario by the required time the game ends... And let me tell you all the horror I had unleashed as a progressively deranged Frank West in the Mall hadn't prepared me for the horror I was about to face near the end of the game. After making my way through the hordes of the undead via impeccable stylish morally ambiguous ways, and near the completion of the game, I beat the final bad guy and I was on my way to watch the finale... Only, it didn't happen... I had passed the time limit by a fuck.... up minute so the game ended abruptly!!! Let me tell you how that feels after a total sum of 12-15 hours of gaming... IT SUCKS!!! My gamepad fell on the floor, followed by my jaw and the rest of me followed soon after... If I ever structurally resembled one of the undead this was the time... After being pieced together by my half bepuzzled, half bemused girlfriend I realised that I had to replay the WHOLE GAME to reach the finale... And all of this because dear frigging CAPCOM(as in the company who made the game...) had placed only one save slot in the game, so if that was fucked... you were fucked... which makes for a neat little fucked up package come to think of it....

The "betrayal" of the game's save system was too much to bare. So I kinda lost my head...:). That was just a flesh wound in my videogaming psyche though, soon I would be back, head attached and all, h(a)ngry for more:).

Having avoided the stroke from the realization that I wasted 12-15 hours of my life playing a game with the most ridiculous save system ever, I restarted the game and marched through the undead(literally THROUGH the undead I assure you...LOL!) with a fury that the popculture universe hasn't seen since the rage of avid Star Wars fans towards Jar Jar Binks back in the days of the "Phantom Menace" (and I heard that was pretty bad... or so the geek legend says, hahaha). After around 10 hours I finished the game getting one of the crappiest finales available but that didn't matter... I had prevailed VS the twisted corporal stupidity of a videogame developer that made a really good videogame with ONE KILLER FLAW... A save system so badly designed, a zombie would have made a better job creating it for sure... As I put my gamepad on the floor, I grinned with glee. The Deadpoolite VS Capcom contest had ended with DP the winner, it was no contest really:). With those final thoughts I passed out, equally affected by the realization of my stupidity in persisting with this game and pure kinky exhaustion... It wouldn't be the first time and it definitely won't be the last...


And here comes the sequel... better fix that save system Capcom...or else:).

Hope you cracked a smile or two with this twisted tale of videogaming madness:).

Till next time, take care all!

A post from the Bronze side of life...

The anger of my presumably abandoned readers knows no bounds... Ouch!!!

You wouldn't exactly call me a prolific blogger these days. In fact I would go as far as to say that: "I don't blog anymore...". But then again, who am I kidding, that wouldn't be true and I am too stubborn to let this glorious blog of mine die. So, regardless if this is a blog seemingly hooked on "blogsupport" until it's wacky owner gives it some TLC, it is still damn active. Now, wipe out the single tear coming down your cheek from the excitement that you won't be losing DP anytime soon, get a grip of yourselves! After all, this blog entry has to look like a proper post ,so we might as well act like it. It is a little arrangement I call "blogspiracy".

This madeup word is trademark of DP limited, whoever uses it from now on has to face the wrath of some moneysucking lawyers working for his majesty's the DP the wacky (oh crap, just remembered, I can't afford a single lawyer, ok I'll do the talking in the upcoming trial then... a sure way for the other side to win of course, LOL!).

(ALWAYS READ THE SMALLPRINT). All I would have to do would be to appear in the trial wearing ONLY this and the victory in the courtroom would be mine muhahaha!!! Oh who am I kidding, I would be doomed from day one, so I won't sue after all for the "blogspiracy" copyright. Back to the drawing board to make some quick cash then...:).

The title of my post refers to my new laptop the mighty HP Pavillion 5 - 1299dev ev plus. Now why is it 'mighty' you may ask, to which I would kindly reply : "Because it is MY laptop dammit!!! Ah, the nerve of some people:)". Now I won't tire you with technical jargon about it but it looks pretty cool I have to say. The defining feature of it aesthetically is that it is bronze in colour, thus partially the infamous title of my post. By chance or fate, on the same day, my girlfriend came with me to buy a new mobile phone since her old one has drawn its terminal breath (it has been doing so for months now so spare a used lithium battery for the old bugger will ya...?). Since my gal is all about taking beautiful quality pictures (as in pictures that I am not in then, LOL!!! Just joking people heh! ) she opted to leave her beloved -entering sarcasm- NOKIA and go with Sony Ericsson. And her "weapon of choice" was Sony Ericsson C905. And so we went to the shop to make our virtual dreams come true and feast upon the purchase of new gadgets. I dare you to find me one person in the bloggosphere that could make what is essentially 'buying stuff" sound so cool and out there. Any candidate then? Nah, didn't think so...:).Off to the actual trip to the gadget shop then...

Hello, handsome... Oh the fun we are going to have together:). Not THAT fun you amateur perverts!!! Hey, it is NEW and BRONZE,what's not to like:).

As we entered the high tech realm of credit card genocide one thing was for sure, we wouldn't leave the place empty handed. As the master tacticians of consumerism that we are, we approached our individual preys with caution. Yes, our finances would die in this place of high pricing but they wouldn't go down without a fight. As my girlfriend was surrounding the woman responsible for selling mobile phones I focused my attentions on the laptop of choice. This laptop was part of a larger deal including ΗP Officejet all-in-one, a laptop case and the ink cartridges for the aforementioned behemoth. A pretty sweet deal if I say so myself. However, the 'eyes of the hunter' noticed that the model number on the package was different from the model number on the stand and thus the dialogue with the shop assistant began:

Deadpoolite (DP): Hey, this is a different laptop than the one on the stand I was interested in!

Shop Assistant (SP): There are only minor differences (which was true but who cares I had to make him work for it, LOL!!!)

DP: But I was told that it is the same laptop (featuring my almighty "whiny call of doom" in the vocal department).

SP: This is a better overall deal.Besides you can't expect both of them to have exactly the same price, it doesn't make sense!

DP: Hey, it is YOUR pricing policy it ain't my problem (deadpan delivery I assure you).

SP: But this deal is well worth your money and the difference is minimal between the two laptops.

DP: I will be the judge of that...

SP: Do you have a problem with us then?

DP: Nope, no problem at all just making conversation...(and toying with ya but you'll never know, LOL!)

SP: ...

After all the 'foreplay' it was time to go and pay for the thing since I had enough of his pony tail crapiness. I mean what guy dons a pony tail these days ? Only washed up male rockers and porn stars... He was neither, so what was his excuse:). At least I tortured him a bit which made the outflow of cash feel a bit more tender...

Respect the tail...or NOT:). The only man that can(?) get away with a pony tail it seems. Which actually, come to think of it, proves the point that a male pony tail is simply WRONG!!! Don't do it people, stay away from the tail, go the barber's or something:).

At the meantime my girlfriend had other life changing decisions to make... The ultimate dilemma was: Black or Bronze ( ah those "earthshattering life decisions" are so cool ain't they, LOL!) since the silver /white combo she had originally picked was not available in store. "Babe..." she told me, "I will go for the Bronze one.It seems there is no escape from this colour today..." she concluded merilly. After she had paid her dues at the cashier's and took a bow of eternal commitment and devotion to her new mobile phone, we both took our Bronzastic gadgets and headed for the car. "Hey, it could be worse" I thought, "they could have everything available only in pink which is a crime punishable by death for every self-respected gadget".Mind you, I am sure my gal begs to differ on that one:).

The bronzastic phone my gal got. Looks pretty slick in all its B-R-O-N-Z-E glory (oh shut up DP will ya!!!).

Till next time, take care all!

A hotel on the verge of the twilight zone(Part 2 - Finale)...

Since I wasn't about to put my mom in detention like a modern day Quasimodo, I opted to give her 'the crappy big room' instead of 'the crappy little room' (you see a pattern in there somewhere don't ya now? LOL). As for the merry couple it would have to do with the doll house sized room for the night and hope that claustrophobia is not something you catch overnight. As DP and redheaded godess fell asleep on the narrowest of beds that night, I couldn't shake the notion that if we woke up in one piece, come next morning , a duet act in mind boggling circus acrobatics would not be too unrealistic a choice as a future joined career goal. And so the next morning came... Oh and what a glorious morning it was, with the merry couple waking up in some uncharacteristic angle at eachother that I wasn't even sure it was anatomically possible before that night. Ah, 'DP the human Play-doh'... Yep, I am sure you can see the business potential in there somewhere, the cool brand name, the licensed crappy action figures, the works. Personally, I was too busy telling my body parts from my gal's, trying to get up without causing any major irreversible injuries at eachother... Confident that a night inside an iron maiden would be preferable to another night on THAT bed, we dragged our carcasses down to the hotel reception.

A room where moving around and remaining in one piece was an artform by itself...:). Geez, who built this place? Some clan of evil dwarfs with illusions of grandeur maybe...

However, prior to requesting some mercy...ahem... I mean some other room from the receptionist the couple needed brain fuel (also called 'breakfast' in more sane blogs, the nerve of some people...HAH!!!). And thus the pair of hungry savages sat down in the breakfasting area hoping for some much needed nourishment, only to be met with a cup of coffee and a cup of coffee and ....wait a minute THAT WAS IT!!! They told us it was Sunday and there was some 'lack of (incoming BS) personnel', followed by more BS that was too incomprehensible for the couple's hungry minds( and not 'hungry for knowledge' let me tell ya... LOL). I swear my train of thought was in the lines of " DP slept bad, DP ate nothing, DP demolish!!!" like some kind of wacked out Hulk red clone. However, since 'demolishing' and 'unleashing the wacky monster to the masses' burns calories and I had none to spare I swallowed what was left of my pride and crawled to the reception area with a single thought in mind: "Must eat receptionist!!!". Eh, sorry that was the Uncut version of this post, I meant: "Must change room!!!". Yeah, that's more gentlemanish I suppose... And so we practically landed on the reception area staring desperately at the grinning receptionist. I swear if they had a paper stand instead of a human, noone would have noticed the difference in the sucker's face. He had that mechanical cyborgy look that most receptionists have and for a moment there I thought I was in some sort of cheap Terminator rip off. In fact, I am sure if he WAS The Terminator there would be only one directive in his programming: "Must terminate client's VISA! Must terminate client's VISA".

How much was I paying for those rooms again? Run VISA, run and save yourself from the horrible, horrible fate of infinite overdraft:).

After some uneventful banter between dozed off couple and receptionist and with surprisingly minimal fuss , DP issued the main request of the day: " That little room you gave us is suitable only for LEGO sized people. Could we actually switch to a room made for real sized people were turning in the room doesn't require a perfect 10 in gymnastics?". After processing the information for a whole second (a new personal best I am sure), the receptionist replied with a dry : "But of course, here is the key!". To be honest after the uncomfortable first night I had a bit of a surreal feel about the whole place and my gal was not feeling much different. I took the key with equal measures of content and shall I say fear... I mean who knew what dangers actually lurked in the 'dungeons' of the new room. As we went up on the second floor and I was about to turn the key, my girlfriend grabbed my already shaky hand. "Let's do this together!" , she said and we turned the key expecting the worst. The door opened slowly in one of those neverending moments in life, when you need to reach some sense of closure but the process takes just too damn long and time seems to freeze.

Did I really want to open that door? Ah who am I kidding "no guts no glory"! Enough with the damn wacky warcries let's open the blasted door and succumb to the 'awesomeness' of absolute bad taste... or better let's NOT:).

As the door was finally wide open, we were bathed in the while light of a hotel room that didn't suck beyond belief! Now that was unexpected to say the least. After picking up our proverbial jaws from the floor, we thoroughly examined the premises for traces of alien DNA. Surely, this decent room that graced our peripheral eye sight could not have been man-made and did not belong in this sorry excuse of a hotel... Either that or the current time warping antics of the LOST series had finally caught up with us and we had been transferred to a time and place when the hotel in question was actually a half-DECENT hotel. The room was well lit, expertly decorated with a lot of refined wooden old style furniture that gave it a distinct, consistent and dare I say cool look!!! Being a sucker for the 'good son routine' I arranged for my mother to get the proper 'non-biohazardous room' and leave the merry couple to occupy the 'post-apocalyptic Mad Max' themed room. That night, as Merc and redheaded godess lied down on a PROPER bed made for humans, prior to falling asleep I couldn't help but wonder that I was either living a day in the twilight zone or had been terribly miscast in a David Lynch movie and noone had bothered to tell me about it...

The David Lynch hotel such a welcoming and "ordinary" place:).

Till next time, take care all!

A hotel on the verge of the twilight zone(Part 1)...

It all started innocently enough... You know the drill, sick relative in the hospital, booking room in the nearest possible hotel regardless of price and level of service, the works. As my girlfriend and I arrived in front of the hotel in question, a sudden breeze of wind messed up my gal's red hair a little. Perhaps an ominous sign of unholy things to come (man, can I possibly get any more camp in this blog, 'unholy things to come', geez where do I find this stuff...). I lifted my head and saw the sign of the hotel hanging above our heads, the inscription read "Hotel Elizabeth" (how utterly gay...)."What a cliched and ordinary name" I pondered, "top marks for originality guys" my train of thought concluded('train of thought', shit this has started sounding like a bad Jane Austin novel rip off, a really bad one as well) .

He is not THAT guy but he could really be THAT guy, I am sure you know what I mean. There must be a biotech factory or something cloning these people, either that or alien invasion has started and they want to drain our cash first using this grinning lot.

After such amazing deductive thinking, the couple of adventurers entered in the building and walked towards the 'as uneventful as they come' reception area. Precictably enough, the receptionist greeted us in that cliched, run of the mil, forcibly jokey tone that all receptionists greet 'new cash' ('seem polite 101' at its best). Visually, the reception area looked surprisingly decent and that can only mean one thing, rooms must be decent to... Yeah right, perhaps in an alternate universe... The booking was for two rooms: one for the happy -go- lucky couple and the other for Deadpoolite's glorious mum (you can't help but respect the force of nature that is THIS greek mum, so I will shut up about it now and won't reveal her secret superpowers). The receptionist gave us THAT look , you know the one that means ,"everything is going to be alright...NOT!" and handed over the keys to our hotel absolution. I grabbed the keys grinning in the sense "I know I am paying more than I should in this place, so lose the gay attitude will ya and let's get this over with". Amazing thing what they eyes can say sometimes isn't it ? LOL!!! After formalitites were done and dusted, it was time to move upstairs...

No knight came to our rescue when we started ascending towards the great unknown of our accomodation. We were fighting a lost battle alright, we just didn't know it yet:).

In that respect, Merc and redheaded godess gathered their respective carcasses and ascended to the great unknown of their temporary accomodation comprised of one double bedroom and one single bedroom. Upon opening door number 1 we were treated to a single bedroom that was a dream come true for claustrophobic people. I swear, you needed to be an olympic gymnast just to move around in that room without tripping and losing all dignity landing head first every single time. The bed was right in the middle of the room and occupied like 2/3 of the available space and it was as narrow as is required for a matchstick sized dwarf to sleep in. The bathroom was an ideal gas chamber but not a bathroom, so it they ever make another one of those Hellraiser movies, look no further than this place for setting the mood.Oh, the miracles of internet hotel booking never cease to amaze me:).So, what was the unanimous verdict on this room, great for hobbits, bad for people. Yep, that sums it up quite nicely alright.

I needed to have the picture of a decent hotel room here at this very spot. I just had to do it...:).

After squizzing out of the single room, it was time to check out the double room and see if there was anything redeeming about this hotel or hotel apocalypse was inevitable after all. Armed with courage and having conducted all the available vaccination prior to entering, the merry couple dragged their sorry asses into the double room. For starters the room was indeed 'double' which was a big hit with fans as you can expect, LOL! However, the whole look of the place was not particularly 'welcoming'. Let me elaborate on that one. The room had a distinct washed out look, as if someone was a huge Silent Hill videogame fan and thought it would be a cool idea to go full monty with the whole 'spooky room concept' just to cheer up the customers (please guys, try LESS, next time). The people who envisioned the awesomeness of this room's design (probably under the influence of something majorly toxic, hallucinogenic and bad all over...) seemed to have a distinct colour blinding disease or a level of poor taste that rivals that of my readers choice of blog reads (take your pick, LOL!).

Don't go there, it was bad... I (ar)rest my case on both movie and rooms:).

This amalgam of anarchic decoration to the point of 'extinction of good taste' hasn't been captured on people's imaginations since the Dick Tracey movie (and we all know how THAT one ended up...). Colour combinations were all over the place and I would go as far as to say damaging for my eyesight. In fact, trust me when I say that if it wasn't for my gal's veil of red protective lovelocks, this Marvelite would have gone all out Daredevil instead of Deadpool right there and then( Sonar/radar vision is highly overrated you know...). The furniture of the room did not fare much better since it made the room look more like a junkyard of different styles than any coherent desigh choice (think Cher's dress sense with a roomey twist and you are there...). Having seen both of the available rooms there was only one choice, act or submit, and submit we did alright...

(To be continued and concluded in part 2...)

A new beginning of sorts...

First and foremost I would like to wish a happy new year to all the readers out there. Having taken the formalities out of the way I am returning to a topic that has troubled me throughout the year and has risen its ugly head once more now that my obligatory military service is nearing its end. It is a fact that blogging has taken a backseat in my priorities and that will also be the case in this year. The thing is while my greek blog seems to have a well defined reason to exist, I have often struggled to see the real reason behind the existence of Deadpool's Laughing Den. Originally, I began this blog to keep in touch with the more wacky side of things while maintaining a constant 'writing relationship' with the english language which is always useful. The experiment began slowly, enjoyed a peak of sorts and now has come full circle.In all honesty I feel like I am back to square one with this blog. The problem is, I don't feel so driven by the whole blogging affair anymore. This year has been a maturing process of sorts because of certain issues that have to do, only, indirectly with the whole army experience. Links have come and gone during this year and my interest in communicating with other blogging people has been diminished to a great extent. I am not the guy who is going to ever frequently comment on other people's blogs since I have lost interest in this ever continuing exchange of comments for comment exchanging's sake. There are a few links that still maintain a certain degree of interest for me, predominantly because I am fond of the people that have created them. In that respect, most of my links have gone bye bye as we speak and I am officially out for some new 'interesting writing blood'.

The focus of the blog will continue to be on humourous posts simply because I think people have more need to smile these days rather than anything else. Other posts will probably pop up now just to add some variety but funny posts will still be the priority. Something that needs to be said in conjunction to the previous sentence is that I have often wondered about the accessibility of english for the average reader. English in this blog is an amalgam of proper english and comic bookish english of my own creation that probably render this blog too weird for its own good sometimes. The thought has crossed my mind to alter this approach and make the language in this blog more user friendly but then that would be like diluting the whole writing experience for me and putting restraints to what I consider 'creative writing'. Thus, the writing style will remain the same unless the topic dictates other wise. As far as the frequency of posting is concerned, I am aware it has gone seriously downhill but A) I was never the most prolific blogger to begin with and B) Blogging has become an afterthought in my life and serves a strictly recreational purpose of sorts to some extent. I am never going to blog frequently unless the mood strikes me or I have some true inspiration as wacky as it may be:).

Before wrapping up this first post of 2009, I would like to thank the people that have constantly stayed around since the inception of this humble, albeit wacky ,blog corner and let's see if we can make some more believers of the Deadpool's wacky ways and posts.

Take care of yourselves, the best is yet to come, even if I am the only one reading it:)!!!

Later...