I'm still not going into specifics,

but today kicked ass. If you have the slightest idea of who I am, you'll know what that probably means.

I'd love to dwell, I really would, but I have my doubts about this post as is, so lets get to the funny shit you all came for, shall we?

I refuse to put a caveat that only gamers should pass here, since everyone owns a Wii. Shut it, you do. It prints money. Everything from Nintendo prints money. Even the SP I own. And the pokemon emerald that's still in there.

What was I getting at? Right, the Wii.
One can look at all the new things coming out, in the gamer world (Project Natal, The Eye of Judgement), and look at the Wii. Why? It's to blame. Now we have to exercise, and it's going to look ridiculous. We're going to be running, jumping, and shooting, and some guy is gonna walk by the living room window, and see us. It's going to be ridiculous. No, I want to be on my couch, covered in the crumbs of the Doritos I'm eating, chugging orange soda and nailing storm troopers with down, down, up, X, Y, right.

But the companies are like marketing geniuses, targeting the weak and uniformed of the gamer's family: the soccer moms. You know, the ones who grab the minivan, drive you to church, soccer, hockey, school, jimmy's, and the ice cream place, by day, and complain about you coming alongand having ruined their dreams by night. Humor aside, it's true. They hear the word family tacked on to anything, fun, experience, movie, homicide, whatever, they rush like bulls to get it. So when those peeps over at nintendo tacked ol' faithful on to the wii, they rushed like bulls to get it (it's not proverbial, I'm dead sure someone was trampled). So now EVERYONE has one, and we all dread hearing the old "Hey Anthony, come down and play the wii with me!" Since we all know it's going to be wii fit. Again.

And of course, nintendo has targeted their audience well. All the games, all the family-friendly-ness, soon we'll be charging down the stairs to protest having to play Exercise with Jesus. Again. But we can't protest, lest we get tacked with that awful label "teenager." It's almost as bad as calling us liberals. Or the mum thinks we hate her, and then we get yelled at, for them misunderstanding us. Excuse me, I'll go worship satan now, and maybe talk to all my friends about drugs. (Humor, dear friends, I don't talk to my friends about drugs.)

This is post 100.

Of, allegedly, a blog. Wierd, since no one comments on the classic blog bits, ie: me talking about my day. What a backwards world we live in. The same backwards world we're born in, and the same backwards world we die in. And then the same backwards world respawn in, I assume.

The last person to comment may or may not get orange soda. Regardless, this is post 100 of a blog I would've bet money would never make it this far. So comment, if you read this. You don't need to register or anything (I promise).