subhumanzoids

“Well, if it isn’t my old friend Rambo”
“You don’t have any friends!”

I’d like to direct you all to the left sidebar, where you will find a handy countdown timer to the theatrical release of RAMBO. Why mark your calendars when you can come to the JLR daily and find out how much closer you are to Stallone turning a bunch of foreign dudes into Ragu!?

And thus it begins: RAMBO WEEK!

This is why I would never make it as a comic artist.

I love to draw, but even if I got paid to do it I still think I’d be terrible at perspective and anatomy. Part of my problem might actually be that this era (early to mid-90s Marvel and early Image, specifically) had a huge impact on my middle school mind. Maybe that’s why I’m borderline retarded, I don’t know. What I do know is that I drew a lot of shitty superhero comics in 7th and 8th grade, some of which I’d love to scan and upload for everyone’s amusement.

Now, I’ll agree that Rob Liefeld is pretty awful behind the pencil; abysmal, even. That’s not exactly a “bold” statement, is it? But this article, besides having a few funny pictures on it, is the perfect example of my least favorite style of Internet Writing. I like to call it Maddox Disease (and trust me, I fancy myself an expert on how unfunny Maddox is), and the very first sign of it is attention to detail in the most obnoxious of ways.

I don’t want to get into it too much, though, because then I will become it!

http://www.gametrailers.com/remote_wrap.php?mid=29646

This game’s going to be ridiculous. In case you were wondering, I really liked the first one.

More updates coming soon, sorry for the slow-down lately. I guess I was just too mesmerized by D-Wars!

Or Dragon Wars or whatever it’s called (not to be confused with the tale of Spondylus’ fall), delivers. It’s like a twelve year-old’s brain vomited all over the screen and the resulting mess was vomited back and forth between two other twelve year-old’s in a middle school theater group’s performance of Two Girls One Cup.

Face it, folks, no other film has so accurately depicted what it would be like if a bunch of dragons and lizards with cannons on their backs faced off against tanks and fighter jets. Not since I, myself, was the tender age of twelve have I vividly imagined a Composition notebook spilling onto the floor, its ink and pencil shavings tumbling from within the pages, forming physical dioramas of mildly retarded destruction.

Go, rent it, watch it in the highest of definitions and remember: Robert Forster is everywhere.

Dramatic reenactment