Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Slovenly Borax

I used to play this game when I was a kid. Every time I would take a poop, I would save my urine and stand up and pee on the logs. Here was my little mental scatological version of Space Invaders! It was my sworn duty as Piss Commander to take down the big evil brown alien ships that were set to invade. I had to break apart these giant ships in a full-on arial assault. This game was very difficult, as usually I had a very limited amount of urine at my disposal. It was like if you could run out of ammo in Space Invader and could never get it back. If you lost, you lost. The upside was there was no firing back from the evil ships; they simply laugh at your poor shooting. I suppose I always got the last laugh, flushing them all to oblivion, but there was still a little onset of disappointment seeing a big old log still in one piece. Ocassionally I'd kill a few and still have some left over for a Level 2, but rarely did I ever complete the game and kill all turds floating on screen.

Sometimes when I'd eaten and drank a whole bunch, it was like the Ultimate Edition or something. The ammo was doubled, the turds humongous. Taunting with their sheer girth, my shit cackled in it's delight at being a rim-hanger surronded by a pantheon of peon poops. This was the final boss; I call him Thanksgiving Chunk. Thanksgiving Chunk was a sight to behold: Here was a creature of such magnitude, there is no way my simple penis fleet could muster up the pee-pee power to take down such a brown behemoth. If I could only get together enough sheer hydro-power to fire hose my way through, but rarely did this happen in my pre-beer drinking days. Thanksgiving Chunk has never been taken down, and it stands to reason he never will. As I grew out of the game, I was less determined to even pay attention. Thanksgiving Chunk wins. He'll even refuse to be flushed sometimes, he was that hardcore. That was always the secret weapon you'd have to rely on if you ran out of ammo, but even that atom bomb of plumbing advancement would do no good. He would keep rearing his ugmo head despite my most intense efforts. Damn you to hell, Thanskgiving Chunk!

These days I don't play that silly game. I don't know how the fuck that shit came to me as a child; perhaps my inherent obsession with video games had to transfer even the most ridiculous concept into some sort of playable galactic pursuit. These days I primarily do a post-check on the bowl, like the Germans do, just to make sure everything is in order. But sometimes I get a sort of "I did some sick shit as a kid" flashback as I de ja vu my pee onto my poop. It's sort of wierd to think about today, and I don't know if this is something that will ever be represented in any sort of mainstream media. Where the hell did I come up with that, and, more importantly, why the fuck was it so much fun?

3 Comments:

Blogger ssas said...

boys are gross.

5:12 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

the sounds like a flash game in the makeing.

6:38 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

even when the atom bomb fails to destroy, the hand of god himself, or Mr. Plunger, as i like to call it, never fails to completely annhilate its foes
-gilly

6:25 PM  

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