Yahtzee Croshaw Quotes

The man in the headdress nodded. "On that note, I'd like to quickly ask David if there's been any headway in getting the air conditioning back online." A slight murmur of discontent indicated the importance of this matter, directed at a blond young man with a tanning-bed complexion. "Well, Gary," he sighed. "There isn't much we can do without electricity, but my team has been researching alternatives. One of my engineers proposed a system of fans powered by dogs in giant hamster wheels, but the major issue there is our limited dog inventory. We'll keep looking into it.

My non American viewers. Who understand that the world does not consist solely of a single nation sailing across an infinite sea of migrant workers. Will no doubt have heard that the waters surrounding Brisbane got tired of waiting for people to hit the beach and decided to bring the party to us.

Fifty-story skyscrapers stood side by side with older ten-story buildings like fathers and sons at the urinal together.

The most I can hope for is to die in a pose that confuses future archaeologists.

It's way too long and I gave up on it. Abandoning forever an innocent child to a hostile and unforgiving land. Sometimes I still hear him crying late at night. He sounds exactly like a malfunctioning air conditioner.

Drelmere and sons, fine outfitters for the discerning magician!" he was shouting, his voice barely carrying over the hubbub. "Robes! Pointy hats! Beard grooming supplies! Yes, you sir, how can OH GOD HURRAAARRGLAB."
I waited patiently for him to finish decorating the pavement with his stomach contents. "Sorry," he said, bent double and gulping. Impressively, he immediately continued his sales pitch from that position. "Looking for a new robe?"
"Yes, this one's starting to whiff a bit."
"Yes, I ... gathered that, sir." He took a few deep, groaning breaths into a star-patterned hanky and seemed to gather himself.
"What sort of price range were you OH GOD YOUR EYES HURRAAARRGLAB."
I tapped my now bile-sodden foot. "Shall I come back later?

For me, Modern Warfare 3 's plot makes its signature turn around the bend when Russia invades Europe. As in, all of it. Simultaneously.
Now, I've never invaded Europe, except for that one time, but I would think that's a project you might want to stagger out a bit if you haven't forged an alliance with any galactic empires lately.

A Shadow's Tale - I'm going to keep calling it A Shadow's Tale because fuck America for wanting to be different and special all the time.

I don't actually remember if I was able to get a firebolt off. I have a vague memory of seeing orange light splatter harmlessly against a spiked breastplate, but that might just have been sparks from all the metal rubbing against metal. Then there was a sound rather like a bag of wet laundry being hurled across a gravel driveway, and that was the first time I died.

If you ask me, the hypothetical zenith of gaming technology is direct neural interface - no body to hamper you and your brain is in whatever you want it to be in. Plus it leads to existential uncertainty, which could be entertaining.

There's something terribly weird about the standard fantasy setting
not least of which the fact the phrase "standard fantasy setting" can be uttered without irony.

I like that this is your idea of formal dress, by the way. The same clothes as always, but recently laundered. Do you even know what level of swank La Vache is?" "I wasn't aware that swank operates on a tiered system," I said, pulling my luxuriously warm jeans back on. "They want a star pilot; I'm giving them what they expect. If you were hiring a mime artist, you wouldn't expect them to show up in business casual, would you." He

State your HURRAAARRGLAB," went the monarch.
"Mr. Wonderful," said the advisor, daintily wiping the king's mouth with a hanky. "What do we keep telling you about your interrogation methods? The information's never reliable and it really hurts our image."
"It's all right," I sighed. "This is my actual face.

New Super Mario Br - I'm just gonna call it "Steve" from now on, all right?

Originally it had had two settings: Stun and Kill. These had proved inadequate against the ridiculously well-armored skin of monsters from particularly rough planets, so I'd found a way to tinker with the built-in limitations. The dial now had a third setting, labeled with the handwritten words 'Solve All Immediate Problems.

Reality is a cruel and unintuitive place with frustrating gameplay mechanics.
(Press X to thanklessly toil your life away)

Do you think you people will get it on the six or seventh hundredth time? We're being ironically evil." "But he's actually dead!" pressed Tim. "Ugh," the priest waved a hand dismissively. "I wouldn't expect your generation to understand sophisticated humor. Now, if no one has any other business to raise ...

Oh, traccy traccy ply ply bracket doints and divs

With small-town America it's always either zombies or communists isn't it.

A good story is like a good bowel movement: it's only really satisfying once it's ended, because if you just keep going eventually your body runs out of shit and moves on to pushing all your internal organs out your sphincter until only a foul smelling shell remains and anyone who wants to get into your incredibly long poo gets turned off because they have to go through all the poo up until that point to have the necessary context.

I could think of no better place to secretly murder someone than inside a fridge. Well, actually there were probably several better ones, but none came to mind at the time.

I picked it up 'cause the back of the box said the Kinect had "finally found its hardcore game" and I interpreted that as a challenge.

Well we've left behind the 200X's, and we move onto the 20XX's. Maybe that will finally make us feel like we're living in the future, rather than a media controlled slave state where an iPhone is worth substantially more than a human life. Happy new year.

Nothing ruins a good thing quite like knowing you share your opinions with mindless little tits.

Fair warning," I said. "We may die horribly the moment I turn this handle." "I beg your pardon?" I turned the handle. There

What can you do with a character who responds to everything by either punching it or deploying Bat Anti-thing Spray ... then punching it?

So, Americans, then. Self-appointed vigilante defenders of the world, kind of like Superman, if Superman was retarded and only fought crime when he felt like it.

His perpetual grin was wider than any I'd ever seen, and that included several guys I'd known at Dreadgrave's with no skin on their faces.

The geek shall inherit the earth.

There's a new spell you get around level 50 called "Mirror Image" which might as well be called "Reap On, Ye Fucking Reaper Man".

Individuals are fine once you get to know them, especially if they're interesting in conversation or have large, sumptuous breasts, but I don't like people in the plural and I've seen very little to change my mind about that.

I am a crab. I am thinking crabby thoughts. I am tightening my grip on this rock with my big red pincers.

Could somebody please invade America? I know it's not exactly prime real estate and can just about produce corn and shitty TV, but someone really needs to help them blow off some steam.

It's difficult to root for America when the villains of the story live in a ditch and are armed with jagged rocks. At some point in recent years they looked up from their international heroism to realize they'd alienated the entire world.

That fact forms the center of a slightly racist joke referencing Ritsuko City's large population of Japanese speakers. And I could certainly have escaped justice indefinitely by crossing the Black. But I'd have to lose my last scrap of self-respect, and in that case I would take up transvestite hooking before piracy. At least that would make for a less awkward conversation with Dad.

He seemed to notice for the first time that we weren't exactly rushing to his side, but were mainly watching him as a zoo patron would watch a crazy monkey, curious but ready to move at the first sign of poo-flinging. There was a minute of awkward silence before someone near the back with their head held under their arm said who's this twat?

The Necromancer's Tower squatted over the river like an incontinent titan.

He hastily pulled off his dressing gown - revealing austere black boxer shorts and a threadbare T-shirt for something called Mogworld - and began twirling it frantically around his head.

The cruelest thing you can do to an artist is tell them their work is flawless when it isn't

I woke up one morning to find that the entire city had been covered in a three-foot layer of man-eating jam.

I'd sometimes pictured myself bravely sacrificing my life to save another, but my preference had always been that it be someone I actually liked.

You could still be a hero!"
I didn't turn. I stood and watched the dewy grass flutter innocently in the early morning sun.
"I'd rather be a protagonist," I said.

Last night we were noting, a freelance musician and an unemployed. But you know what we are now? ... Both unemployed?

And I hate to be a stickler for the rules but the Hibatsu Survival Settlement Charter clearly states that any individual who cannot reimburse the company in liquid assets must make it up with voluntary existence suspension.

Making the decision to leave Valve strikes me as right up there with turning down the throne to Narnia, but then call me an idealist, and I guess I probably wouldn't want to spend my whole life making new hats for Team Fortress 2 either.