My latest Memoreview is up. You will laugh. You will learn. Take a trip back with me into the annals of arcade history for my review of BurgerTime for the Arcade and NES.
So there I am on an island no one knew about for centuries, in a place no man has set foot on in hundreds of years. I’m fighting a cunning group of thieves out to kill me and steal the treasure I came here to retrieve for probably more noble purposes I guess.
I am crafty enough to steal a Jet S- WaveRun- AHEM ‘personal water craft’ from the villains, and I set a course upriver. Unfortunately, the enemy knows I’m on the way. Suddenly they begin to toss dozens of barrels into the river. Oh no! They are full of oil, and explode violently!
This is the part where I pause the game and take a deep breath.
Hold on a minute now Uncharted.
Oil prices are in the range of a hundred bucks a barrel, and these henchmen are just tossing it into the river like it’s worthless. These guys wouldn’t need to steal such rare things if they were just more careful with how they use their money and supplies.
Did they really bring hundreds of drums of oil to just throw into a river when they got here? And if not, then what were they intended for? Because you sure as hell can’t use them for that when you are throwing them in the fucking ocean!
But before we can even worry about that, we have to ask the underlying question, how exactly did you get all that oil here? You can’t just pick up some oil drums from the local supply store, and fill them up at the uncharted gas station. These barrels had to be carried onto a boat, likely by the same henchmen that are chucking them out like expired food as we speak. If you factor in the cost, as well as the fact that a giant cargo ship docking anywhere and buying hundreds of barrels of oil and weapons, landing in any port anywhere not exactly being inconspicuous, I can only conclude that at the very least, these thieves need to hire an accountant.
Oh Uncharted, you had me going there for a moment, but you burst the reality of my experience like an exploding barrel blows up a personal watercraft.
Los Angeles, Calif. President Obama, and presidential nominee Mitt Romney have confirmed to be taking part in an unusual, but highly demanded debate. Which presidential candidate is Satan? The American public demands to know.
After the debate was confirmed, Barrack Obama issued a press release stating, “I have the utmost respect for Mitt Romney, and I do not believe that he may be Satan. That said, I am not foolish enough to believe that I am smarter than the devil. That is why I owe it to the American public, to really make sure he isn’t here to plunge the earth into darkness.”
A few hours later, the Romney camp made their own announcement, saying, “I believe that Barrack Obama only has the best interests of America at heart. We may differ in opinions, but you can’t deny that Barrack Obama was born quite close to an active volcano.”
Priests, rabbis, and holy men of at least seventeen different faiths and denominations will be flown in for the debate, just in case ultimate evil does present itself tonight.
Well I have hated SnorgTees for a long time. Like many, I ran across their advertisements on myspace, back when myspace was a thing people logged into. Just like the advertisements for auto insurance rates and finding old classmates, I simply ignored the ads and went about stalking people and not returning comments. That was it for many years.
Now we are in the present day, and this year (maybe last year, what kind of person would keep track of this?) Cracked.com began running advertisements by SnorgTees. I don’t blame Cracked, since they can do no wrong, but the ads themselves can cause a great pain in the comedy receptors of my brain.
Four of the five shirts I blindly clicked on at random from their front page, and will be posting my thoughts accordingly. The first one though I have specifically singled out. It is one that specifically appears on the Cracked ads, and is at the very heart of my anger.
I don’t sell shirts. I don’t design shirts. I might not even wear shirts correctly, but I know words. Words are a pretty simple concept, so I won’t go into details about them right now. Just read the shirt out loud. It’s a pun! A pun based on something no one brought up. Puns are terrible even in the most called for situations, but bringing one up out of nowhere creates very dangerous particles of antihilarity which scientists claim don’t even exist.
Now, bringing up a time when you thought of a totally good pun, but like, you just had to be there, so you tell your friends, causing them to groan, roll their eyes, and reassess how much your friendship is worth can be time consuming hard work. Wouldn’t it be much simpler to put that pun, along with the definition of the pun, onto a shirt? This way your friends will all know how terrible your sense of humor is, as well as ward off potential future friends who might have otherwise assumed you weren’t funny, rather than knowing that. Now these people have knowledge of your failings. They have learned from you and your shirt, and learning is important. Feel free to stroke your beard while you contemplate the power of knowledge.
Now, the more important part is, how is this new word of any use to any person ever? I think I have said the word elephant less than 5 times this year. One of those times I confused ‘elephant’ with ‘allopath’ creating unnecessary tension between my physician and I. No one talks about elephants. Unless Snorg is looking to corner the market for people who…
A. Work at wildlife preserves in Africa
B. Clean elephant waste at the zoo/circus
C. Train and ride elephants into battle to destroy their enemies
Then this shirt finds itself with a very limited audience. Presumably one in which they feel elephants are relevant on the world stage.
There are several problems here that I do not know whether to pin on the photographer, the model, the shirt, or society at large. The simplest explanation is that it is a dumb shirt, and she can’t hear for different, yet obvious reasons.
Perhaps the photographer thought this was a clever way to convey sound. The words of the shirt transcending the bounds of the fabric and becoming part of our collective reality.
Maybe the model was listening to her favorite band, and they just got to that part in the song that totally reminds her of her boyfriend.
Maybe the shirt is a warning to people that the wearer is legally deaf, and wanted to relay this information to people in the douchiest way possible. I think the designer had a dream, to make even the deaf look like assholes.
Though all this could be some terrible misunderstanding. In my haste to condemn these people, maybe I misunderstood something very important about humanity. The girl in this picture does seem to be satisfied with the high decibels of her epicness, but perhaps it wasn’t always the case. Perhaps this girl has dealt with a lot of folks who have put her down over the years. She was almost ready to give up on herself until she found a path out of her depression. That’s right, the shirt is actually part of a self help program. Whenever someone tells you that you made a poor decision buying that shirt, and that it is just one in an endless series of terrible mistakes you have made since dropping out of college and deciding to be a model, you can simply hum a short tune, and point to your shirt. No one will get you down today, because you are epic, and you can’t even hear them. Oh, and the headphones? The Secret on audiobook.
If joke shirts like the ones above don’t do it for you, well you are still in luck my friend. For folks who don’t have a sense of humor, Snorg has a wide and utterly unfunny line of shirts that are simply references to other things. If there are things, and you like some of the stuff in those things, then why not wear a shirt about some of that stuff in those things that the stuff you like is from? Show off your preference in movie/show/music while also letting people know what useless knowledge you fill your head with. The intricacies of the current economic crisis? Not when I know all the dialogue to Shaun of the Dead!
What is saddest of all is that the market for folks who simply like turtles is now awash in a sea of zombie movie fans. Many of which probably have nothing more than ambivalence for our reptile friends.
I just need to get something out of the way first. Where is this guy? In his parent’s backyard? Was the park not allowing photography that day or was your car broken down again? Why guns? Couldn’t even bother to pretend holding a lightsaber? Moving on…
So, too funny for the reference shirts? Too knowledgeable for the joke shirts? Well one, you aren’t so great. Two, Snorg has got you covered. Combine your know-it-allism of pop culture and your useless science knowledge (because you don’t need to know Newtonian laws of motion to design your new blog) into one shirt. Now both your college classmates and the dude at the comic book store will look up to you in awe, at least before they begin to tell you that the force in star wars is not the same as a physical force, or that the equation for force is usually more complicated than that.
It’s just a dude with a satchel. No worries right? I mean, satchels are lame, and even the word satchel sounds dirty when I say it out loud, but I can’t blame someone for poor fashion sense. Wait a minute though, something seems odd…
What the hell Snorg? It’s like you aren’t even trying anymore, although that would imply you were trying beforehand. This isn’t even a joke, or a reference. It is just a fact. This is just one step above having a tuxedo shirt that says “James Bond wears a tuxedo.” This shirt is a lie wrapped in a confusing mess of pop culture misinterpretations. Did your art team watch Indiana Jones on mute? Is someone in the office still bitter that his SnorgSatchels idea never took off? The several steps this shirt had to take from concept to product are baffling at every step. It’s like a child who draws muscles on his shirt to look tough, except unlike growing muscles, owning a satchel takes nothing more than a trip to the mall and less money than it took to buy this truly stupid shirt.
If a person wanted to be a bit more like Indiana Jones, this is not the direction I would expect them to gravitate towards. It doesn’t take much to look like an archeology teacher. What if you wear this with a real satchel, what kind of chaos would be wrought on the world? I have said satchel so many times that the word has lost all meaning. They didn’t even use an Indiana Jones font on this one. Snorg couldn’t even be bothered to go all the way through with it and have the fake strap reach all the way around the shirt.
If one person has bought this shirt and then actually worn it, then I weep for humanity.