Eternal Project: Mushihimesama

Some of you, smart whips that you are, remember that I bought a japper PS2 a while back just so I could play the Space Sheriff Spirits game. Truly a noble but foolish and expensive cause. Far be it from me to let my sleepyhead PS2 rot on my shelf, or fall victim to a game collection consisting solely of bad budget titles, so I finally ordered a copy of the Cave shooter Mushihimesama.

I really fell for this game a couple years ago while staying at Ugly Pat’s in Florida (I offered him the nickname of “Pretty Pat,” but he found it deceitful). It is, of course, a ridiculous vertical shooter in which you play a NausicaƤ-like princess that apparently lives in a terrible world populated by giant bugs that are always shooting millions of tiny purple bullets at you. The hit detection is pretty lenient, though, so you may find yourself only continuing one hundred times before completing the game.

Let’s cut to the chase. Over an indefinite period of time, I will be playing through this game at least once a day, sometimes twice, in a quest towards mental and physical improvement. It takes about the same amount of time to eat a hearty meal, so this shouldn’t be a problem. I will then shear the hair from my body and take photographs of my new-found musculature.

So do not be alarmed when you see an image similar to that below on each of my posts, for it is natural! Here’s yesterday’s. I will post today’s as soon as it is done:

The Dandy Lumberjack and His Mighty Beard of Wolfskin and Boot-leather

Like all enterprising young boys, I looked forward to the day that I could enjoy a full beard; one that beamed of strength and menace and the chopping of nature. However, I think I might officially throw in the towel on the concept entirely!

Being a nomadic individual that fancies the rejection of your utopian ideals such as job-having and job-working, there was no time better than the present to give bearding another go. Though I cannot scientifically explain the phenomenon in which my facial hair only grows in the style of “gay retail manager” or “gay poet what works a retail job on the side,” I can pray that this is not a portent of the future and present an artistic representation of my face in the form of a pseudo-scientific diagram.

Surely I would shave it off, had I a straight razor and some relieving salve.