Category: Comics

For the past week or so, I’ve been checking out this Epson Moviemate projector that came with some ridiculous 80″ screen. Apparently I’m supposed to write about it and then mail it back, but at this point I’m working on a way to fake my own death and flee to the sewers, damned to a life of subsisting on rats and watching the fuck out of some movies.

So what does a Real Man® do with this device, aside from using it as a vehicle for masturbation in higher definition? Play TV games and watch pinky violence† flicks, of course! Video after the non-existent jump.

†may or may not also involve masturbation

Since I know that pretty much everyone in our brave world comes here to get cutting-edge video game news, I thought it was my responsibility to follow up on this post from the other day. I stopped by the double B to spend the last of a gift card (for the [bi]curious, I picked up Chang Cheh’s The Water Margin), and noticed that all 24 or so of the aforementioned PS3s had been, at some point, picked up and purchased (presumably) by actual human beings. This, of course, partially debunks the popular theory that factory-escaped robots have been using them for narcotic purposes.

Here’s something found way deep in the old Galactic Ghetto Sketchbook: a Ducketts Murda Records catalogue circa 199x. Kids, note the parental advisory stickers and ask your parents before ordering!

As always, click to enlarge for further study!

2006, as many of you know, was quite the year! In fact, some would argue that this venerable blog did not exist before ’06. But they would be incorrect, so let’s take a quick look at our history here!

The Joseph Luster Report started in 2005, when this journal took a turn for the sexy. Interestingly enough, our intrepid author left it to a very handsome man to come up with the erotic new title. In April of 2006, however, the page was getting too big for its britches! The second season would require a much larger soundstage; one with enough area to house lavish jungle sets as well as a shrine dedicated to its creator.

Now, after two more seasons here, the studio still stands erect, much sturdier than its balsa wood brethren. This post marks the end of Season 3, so let’s take a look at what you may have missed this year:

Highlights Reel

• In April, we discovered how to craft a proper instruction manual.

• We counted down the best tokusatsu openings in May.

• June saw man fighting wasp and too many zombie flicks.

• July was most notable for the return of Slamm Dunk as well as a brand new BigWig film!

• One of the more robust months was August. Together, we fought helicopters, enjoyed exclusive comics, viewed more Slamm Dunk covers than ever before, and had an in-depth discussion with Patrick Macias about Kojiro Abe’s latest masterpiece.

• In September, we viewed the dark side of homelessness, and rode the short bus with Josh Ford.

• October made Kamen Rider Amazon slightly sexier, but was otherwise uneventful.

• On the other hand, November brought us two entries in the Slamm Dunk Handbook!

• December was truly the crescendo. You should recap it all.

Air your season 4 desires here, my friends. Rub the lamp vigorously!

While I won’t be party to proclaiming death knells from mountaintops like the rest of the internet, I find the amount of PS3s scattered about my town pretty disconcerting. Maybe everyone’s just too po’ right now. I’d say it’s the severe lack of games worth playing, but Nintendo also only has a thimble full of purchase-worthy titles (though they do have more than Sony’s one).

I was particularly surprised at the massive stack of homeless Playstations at Best Buy. In my quest for the elusive Wii (fuck everyone ever), I spied a stack of Sony’s systems sitting in the middle of Best Buy’s main aisle. In the two double-stacked rows, I guess there were maybe 24 consoles total. They looked kind of sad, and if I were a richer and/or stupider man, I would have taken one home and made it some (joey) cocoa.

On both sides of the stack, a large printout was stickied for all to see; something of an apocalyptic foretelling to the tune of, “these are not the PS3s that come packaged with Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby.”

I think we’ve found the secret ingredient.