Just a short rant to cool me off before I go to bed.
I just played some Midnight Club - Los Angeles on PS3. I popped in the disc, turns out this is one of those titles that doesn’t need any installing, great.
Then pops up a message saying that it needs an update. I’ve been playing so much PS2 lately that it’s something I’d almost forgotten about. I immediately start dreading about the file size because PS3s don’t download very fast compared to newer systems.
The update was a measly 15mb. It took longer to install than it took to download.
That’s how updates used to be, just a few tweaks and minor changes. Not a whole game’s worth of fixes for an unfinished release.
Of course, I’d rather not have any updates at all. I want the game to function as advertised right out of the box but if we’re gonna have them, they should be as small as possible so people with worse internet than me don’t waste most of their first day with a game on clearing space on their system and then waiting for things to download and install.
That is all.
Fun game btw. Can recommend.
We can't show this anywhere else on the internet but here. Enjoy.
Yes, you're seeing this correctly and @BlabberingC is indeed shoving her nuts in Kay's mouth. She does so much worse in this track though.
...And the video? "Maaaaan! Son, son son! Letmetellyousomething!" IYKYK
I think you'll all like it. Shit gets dark.
"Video coming... blah blah, yackety schmackety..." I only have about 30 seconds completed so far, maybe...
Enjoy it, Normies™!
As promised...
After this, there should be no question as to why Melee K dominated so hard. These girls just didn't know who they were messing with.
Unfortunately, the Futa allegations won't be dying anytime soon.
Enjoy, Normies™! I worked incredibly hard on this one, and I think you'll all like it. This is easily my best work yet.
Also: Normally I don't call people out in here, but @AnDoRaY_OoLtAy, I need you to weigh in, bud!
Some thoughts on gaming culture...
On a recent episode, there was mention of Phoenix potentially having some discussions on culture and history later, and it got me thinking about some things I've rolled around in my head from time to time, mostly when some actor or otherwise famous person spouts a spectacularly bad take on gamers. Most especially when the word "toxic" starts getting thrown around. There's a fair bit of people trying to push the pendulum one way or the other, some I think trying to overcorrect, and others that confuse being against the same thing for being on the same side. To start, I'd like to dig into history a bit for some reference on where I think "good and normal" ought to be.
Probably the first introduction of video games to the general public was the coin operated arcade cabinets. I think the first few produced by Atari were set up in bars, and later on you might find a dedicated arcade where the games were the main business. In either case, players were at a ...
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We never meant for today to turn into a full-blown pilgrimage. Originally, we planned a livestream. Buc-ee’s would be the backdrop — oversized snacks, perfectly arranged brisket burritos, and the distinct scent of gasoline and nostalgia in the air. But, somewhere between idea and execution, we said “nah.”
Instead, we lived it.
Before we even stepped through Buc-ee’s automatic doors, we were greeted by a fan — a small but energizing reminder that what we do matters to people. And then, with the kind of anticipation you normally reserve for concerts or Christmas mornings, Blabs declared her one true goal: eat.
Blabs, already vibrating with excitement, stood before the sandwich counter like a worshipper at an altar. Her hands jazzed, clasped, fluttered, pointed. The Big Buckin’ Brisket Sandwich was tempting, but the Carolina Pulled Pork stole her soul. She literally hugged the sign.
“Ohhh, maybe I’ll get both,” she mused. “I’m getting fat-ass today.”
A bold declaration. A Buc-ee’s declaration.
She danced toward the bakery. Oatmeal raisin cookies, massive cinnamon rolls, muffins the size of small dogs — she surveyed them all like a war general planning a sweet invasion. Meanwhile, I was struggling with my own indecision. Chicken and fries? A burrito? Brisket? Cheesesteak? It was a battlefield of carbs and smoked meats.
Eventually, I landed on the pulled pork. Blabs did too. And just like that, we made our way out to the car — two champions, two sandwiches, no napkins.
We forgot drinks. That was mistake number one. Mistake number two was thinking I’d get the first bite in before Blabs.
Because by the time I opened my sandwich wrapper, she was halfway done. I've never seen anyone eat a barbecue sandwich with such speed, such joy, such… grace? Is that the word? Probably not. But impressive? Hell yes.
She danced with every bite. She hoovered. She transcended. “It’s so freaking good, bro,” she managed between mouthfuls.
It wasn’t just eating. It was a performance.
When the last bite vanished, she leaned back, fully satisfied, glowing like someone who just achieved true peace. Ten out of ten. Would eat again. Probably twice today.
Meanwhile, I was still on bite one.
But we weren’t done. Oh no. You can’t just leave Buc-ee’s after one round. We went back in, like hobbits returning to Mordor — except instead of a cursed ring, we were chasing pecans and Rice Krispie Treats.
Blabs wandered through the store like she was in a trance. Candies. Drinks. Nuts. Bakery goods. That glazed pecan display practically called to her by name. She considered everything and then some: peppered turkey strips, oatmeal raisin cookies (again), fudge, Rice Krispie Treats the size of VHS tapes. She caved. She grabbed a cart.
Women be shopping. Yes, even at Buc-ee’s.
There was a moment of existential crisis near the fudge. A penny press nearly brought her to tears of joy. She packed pennies. This was not her first Buc-ee’s rodeo.
At one point, we passed a teenage influencer loudly proclaiming to his 12 followers, “THIS is Buc-ee’s.” Blabs side-eyed him while gripping her peppered turkey like a survivalist. She wasn’t here to post. She was here to consume.
At checkout, the final damage: $39.16. Worth every penny.
She debated adding more beaver nuggets but showed rare restraint. As we walked out, the Texas heat hit like a wave, and the sadness set in. The doors whooshed shut behind her — the gates of Valhalla, closing. There was a look in her eyes. The look of someone who’d found love… and had to leave it behind.
In her bag: one brisket burrito, to be savored across the next few nights like a squirrel rationing acorns. In her heart: memories of pulled pork perfection.
And maybe — just maybe — we bring the King of the Couch crew here next time. An army of content creators, united under the Buc-ee’s banner, battling it out, fueled by brisket and joy.
Until then, we live with the memory. And Blabs? She’ll dream of that sandwich.
