David Cross (from Mr. Show, the very funny HBO comedy show that is no longer) writes "Games Gone Wild!" at Wired magazine. In his usual style, David Cross is unafraid to cross any line as he previews some of the newest XCubeStation titles: Hipster Bash, Extreme Special Olympics, Tom Clancy's Junior Miss, and Shockingly Extreme Thong Volleyball!
Armed with a magical sneer and a bottle of absinthe, you journey from Los Angeles' Silverlake district to Williamsburg, in Brooklyn, stopping briefly in Chicago's Wicker Park neighborhood. Along the way, you battle other hipster clans à la The Warriors and collect as many Hater pills as possible. Special cheats hidden under your longboard include faux hawks that quickly turn into regular mussed-up hair, the ability to secrete noxious oils from your unwashed skin, and the Hipper-Than-Thou Ray, which blasts opponents with obscure musical references and condescension until they're reduced to a quivering mass of egoless flesh.
He missed the part where you get to keep track of all your quests in your weblog. And in the multiplayer version, you are rewarded with powerups and free lives for every 10 readers who link to you. Oh wait, we're already playing that game. I'm so skewered.
I'm off to my signless bar in Wicker Park now to talk about how my friend's band is about to get signed & therefore sell out to corporate America while I sip my white tea & make fun of all the Trixies that are promoting the gentrification of Chicago's finest neighborhood with their Jettas & baby strollers. Then I'll ride my vintage scooter to the internet cafe where I'll comment on my blog about how lame other bloggers are because they don't share my views on existentialism.
You missed the hidden power up underneath the High Life bottle at the dive bar. If you woulda turned that in to the disaffected lesbian with the visor at Earwax cafe, she would have given you a voucher for a free graphic redesign for your blog.
Or maybe I'll just shut up today. I'm feeling repellant.
Damnit. & I thought I was home free when I approached the Greenpeace volunteers next to the station wagon with the "Don't Mess With Texas" bumper sticker. The barefoot green-haired comb-over-but-I'm-not-bald-yet guy gave me a stash of magical mushrooms with the power to attract both men & women (& their banana boat bicycles with woven baskets) to me at will. This all after I snagged an acoustic with one string broken & played a 45-minute post-modern instrumental version of "She's Out of My Life" while free-styling at a poetry slam. I had to take off my cat-eye glasses because I had let my super-short blunt-cut bangs grow a little longer than normal (my aunt was in Alaska, saving baby seals), but it was all worth it when I saw a blue & white houndstooth housecoat in the window of the Salvation Army. It was *so* deck & would not match my pea green cordurouys at all. Of course I compare it to Kerouac, who wouldn't? Maybe I'll see said disaffected lesbian at my AA meeting tonight. I'm bringing the coffee; it's Folger's.