Two boobs good, four boobs better

Beep. Plink. Beep beep bop.

Beep plink plinky plinky plinky plinky

DE NENE NENE NENENSHFUCKING YEEEAHHHHMOTHERFUCKER DENENENENENNENEEEEENNNNN!!!

That’s how it starts. The best opening to any album I have ever heard.

And it goes on like that. Until the end. It’s like the album is so good that it’s laughing at you, and you want to laugh along.

Then you want to get up and dance, and smash some shit up, and laugh some more and stick a plastic bag on your head and run around for a bit.

There’s riffs here that would make AC/DC shit themselves, and keyboards that would scare the fuck out of the Prodigy.

It sounds like ELO having amphetimine fuelled sex with an Atari 2600 while listening to Kraftwerk. I mean that as the greatest compliment that I can pay to a band.

Look at that cover for God’s sake.

IT’S TWO ZEBRAS RUNNING AROUND IN TRON!!

Christ, I’m listening to ‘Micromachines’ now and it reminds me of the White Stripes, Daft Punk, Redneck Manifesto and Michael Jackson all at once.

My music muscle is literally ERECT.

Fucking brilliant. This is what all music should sound like.

Listen here and buy it now from Tower Records or download it here for a fiver.

10/10

We've used this picture as an example of when lying down on the pitch is justified

So last night saw us beat Andorra in the first qualifying match for the next European championships.

Be honest, how many of you had even heard of Andorra before it was announced that we’d be playing them?  I’m betting zero, unless you bought some questionable foreign beer that was fermented using goats anus or something.

See?  There’s a probably incredibly racist comment.  I don’t know that they even have goats there.  Fuck it, they’ve barely got a population.  Barely 85,000 souls roaming the streets and fields of that great nation.

A great nation that is 468km² and the official first language of which is Catalan, either though French (remember that), Spanish and Portuguese are also known to be spoken.

Not the great nation of Andora which situated in the western part of the Italian Riviera between Capo Mele in the east and Capo Mimosa in the west. This coastal area is called the Palms Riviera which is centred on Savona. To the west is the Riviera dei Fiore, which stretches from the French border to Cervo. Andora had a population of 6,767 in 2001 which swells to almost 10 times this in the summer months.

God bless Wikipedia.

Why am I going on about Andorra and the fact that we beat them last night and secured 6 points?  Because it’s the easiest win we’ve had in recent history in any sport.  Because as one of the Andorran players was coming on as part of a substitution, the commentator mentioned that he made his money as a gardener.

A gardener.

I’m betting the only other time that could be mentioned as part of a soccer match is between two local five a side teams on a Saturday morning.  Accept the line “Well he would be a gardener if his boss hadn’t hung himself to escape bankruptcy, pity that” after it.

I know it's Ronaldo, but still

Although a five a side team would have put up a better fight against our team.  The lads from Andorra seemed to be happy just to be out of the house for the night.  It’s no secret that I know fuck all about soccer, so I won’t be offering any sort of play analysis.  I could spot that Eamon Dunphy seems to have a hard on for someone called Andy Reid, whatever that’s about.

I’m one of those people who just watches the Ireland games when they’re on so that I know what other people are giving out about when we lose or get cheated by a FUCKING FRENCH MAN!  It’s over.  I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

But the one thing I do notice as a casual soccer watcher is the amount of pansies and pussies in the game.  I noticed it when we played Cyprus a few years back and those cunts spend more time on the grass than the white lines.  Last night was no different.

Someone in a green jersey would run past them, not causing enough of a breeze to knock a tissue off of a wobbly house of cards and some cunt in a blue jersey would perform a dive that an Olympic swimmer would get a hard on over.

I posted this on the Facebook page last night and you probably saw it, but only one thing sprung to mind after the 5th or 6th unwarranted dive:

Get ta fuck.  It didn’t stop either.  And after the third goal from Robbie Keane, they just gave up and caused more delays than a disgruntled Ryanair employee.  They’d dive, hold their knee (regardless of where they were hit or kicked or pulled from), get the stretchers out, limp for a bit and then run for the ball when the next chance of glory that presents itself.

At one point, a player had to be taken off because he lost a contact lens.  I swear, next time he’ll be taken off for a broken nail or a stray tampon string.

But let’s not forget our own behaviour.  It still rings around the world the embarrassing behaviour we, as a nation, undertook when we were knocked out of the world cup qualifiers.  Marching on the French Embassy (all 300 of us), Facebook petitions and letters to the French President, all to get a chorus of brie stinched middle fingers raised in our direction.  And rightly so.

They cheated, they weren’t caught and they got away with it.  Whether or not it was intentional, is another thing.

Last night, the goal from Robbie Keane in the 54th minute came from a pass that was played off side.  That’s right, I pay attention.

Check it, it’s quick, but it’s there.

And we’ll say it wasn’t intentional, but even if it was, the ref or linesmen never saw it, so we took the goal that arose from it.  Are we going to give it back?

No.

It would have made fuck all difference anyway, but we would have stood behind Robbie and said that he wasn’t offside, regardless of all the video evidence shoved down our throats.

So when if Andorra don’t make it to the championships, will they look back on this as a time when they were cheated?  Will they bitch and whine for a rematch?  Will they’re citizens start racist Facebook campaigns?  Will they get a half dozen people to march on the nearest Irish Embassy (Probably located over/in a pub)?

Most likely not.  They’ll go back to realising that when a contact lens falls out, you get over it.  When you fall over on GRASS, it’s not life threatening and after all, it’s just a fucking game.

All in all, I’ll bet there were tons of people in late bars until the early hours celebrating the win, and who will continue to do so when they call in sick to work this morning to nurse the hangover.

I don’t understand it though when the match was about as entertaining as watching someone else’s kids in a school sports day.  Not that I do that anymore.

I don’t understand it when the lads could have put some welly into it and gone for another 2 goals at least, securing another few points and making it easier to go on.

Although maybe it was the fact that we finally beat a team in blue shirts, some of which may sound French*.

*I told you to remember that

The last couple of weeks have seen some great shots sent to us in the form of Jenny and Hannah.  Both girls pushed the boat and their boobs out for full on shoots of themselves.  And if you look at the chart on the homepage of the most popular pages, you won’t be surprised to see both of them on top of the list.

But we don’t want you to think that we’re forgetting about the humble boob only shots.  We understand that all girls have a naughty streak, but that some would rather keep the naughty streak a secret.

That’s fine with us, we’re just happy you shared your secret snaps with us.

This week is a mammoth Real Irish Boobs section containing four girls who understand that you just want to see what they’ve got and couldn’t really give two fucks about what they were up to or why they took the pictures.

It’s a no nonsense Boobie Tuesday!

Aoife, 26 from Straffan

More Aoife

Sinead, 24 from Terenure

More Sinead

Jennie, 19 from Slane

More Jennie

Even more Jennie!

Lisa, 22 from Sligo

More Lisa from Sligo!

God Bless Sligo!

And as always ladies, you can send your pics to us at the usual address inbox@boob.ie.

Or you can request your free Boob.ie tshirt to pose in!

And fellas, if you’ve got an adventurous lady in your life who you reckon the world would be a better place for knowing, you know what to do.

Sure it might cost you some jewellery, or a bottle of Buckfast (depending on your lady), but it’s a small price to pay.

Happy Boobie Tuesday!

Tori Black is just hot, extremely…emmm…lickable??

She looks like she’s the perfect girl to bring home to meet the family, but you know she’s a straight up kinky bitch in the bedroom!

She entered the Porn Industry in 2007 and since then has appeared in over 200 films. I have yet to watch about five of those.

Date of Birth: August 26, 1988 (22 years old)
Awards:
Penthouse Pet of the Month December 2008
2010 AVN Award – Female Preformer of the Year.
2010 AVN Award – Best All-Girl Couples Sex Scene – Field of Schemes 5
2010 AVN Award – Best All-Girl Three-Way Sex Scene – The 8th Day
Eye Colour: Brown
Hair Colour: Brown
Height: 5ft 9″
Weight: 64kg – 141lbs
Measurements: 34B-27-37 (Real boobies too!)
Tattoos: Five-pointed star with interlocking rings on lower right abdomen.
Piercings: Tongue; navel

Check out her official website here, and you can also stalk follow her on Twitter here.

It seems that one, or even two instalments of this weren’t enough.  Everyday we witness more and more men behaving in more and more unmanly ways.

I think it’s everyone’s civic duty to print these lists out and carry them around to happy slap the next silly cunt with.  Together we can stop this behaviour

Thou shall have a bottle opener on a key chain

OI! Men's Health! Noooooooo!

Men’s Health reckon that a man should never carry one.  But they have pictures of dudes on their covers, so we’ll take whatever they say with a dumpster full of salt and a double check that we still have our testicles.

What’s more manly than being ready to open a beer at every, EVERY opportunity that arises.  Beer solves every problem in the world.  Apart from alcoholism, but the jury is out on that one.  The only thing that holds back the epicness of beer time is when we hear the words, “Anyone got an opener?”.

Of course the only thing manlier is to open the beer with a cigarette lighter, or your teeth.

Personally, I’ve trained my beard to open beer bottles, so I trump all you motherfuckers.

Thou shall christen thy self

Give yourself a nickname.  What’s cooler than demanding that everyone calls you Buster McThunderstick?  Or being one of those seasoned old dogs holding up the local bar with names like “Aul Flower” and “A little bit rapey John”.

Sure when you were a kid others would give you a nickname based on your looks or behaviour.  Which would explain why I was called “gonna be a virgin till his late 20′s Maxi” and my best friend was called “doesn’t know he’s gay yet Martin”.

Now you can have complete control over what people call you.  Unless you’re already known as a cunt.  Then you’re pretty much fucked.

This lovely picture of Jessica Jane Clement's only purpose is to show Men's Health what they're doing wrong. Ok, so it serves more than that....

Thou shall lie to children

Children don’t know any better, they have dreams and bless them, they look up to adults.  Lie to them and tell them that they can be whatever they want to be.  A fireman, a wrestler, an actor or a rock star.  Do it safe in the knowledge that Firemen don’t get paid, wrestlers get into lycra onesies and rub up against other men, actors are all waiters and most Irish rock stars end up doing cover versions in pubs in exchange for the slops from the drinks trays.

Then he’ll end up in an office wanting to staple his nuts to the desk just to see if he can still feel anything.

Circle of life and all that.

Thou shalt never tut and sigh

What are you?  A bitch?  If you’re in a queue that hasn’t moved and you can see no acceptable reason why it shouldn’t have moved by now, then be a man and do something.  In raised, but non aggressive voice ask the cunts in charge of the queue what the cunting hold up is, or something.  But standing there, shuffling from one foot to the other, sighing, tutting and looking at your watch makes it look like you have an appointment to get your vagina tightened and don’t want to miss it.

Man up.  Next you’ll be giving out that your UGG boots are scuffed up and your back combed hair hasn’t got enough volume.  And unless you’re giving Katy Perry a generous hoofing, you shouldn’t be complaining about any of that.

Thou shalt never own a small yappy dog

These are for hotel heiresses with no tits, a drug problem and a sex tape.  They’re also for little old dears who take them to the post office and leave the poor little fucker tied up outside for the local delinquents to molest.

You’re a man, if you need or want a dog, get one with a rough sounding name like a Rottweiller, German Shepherd or Bigbollix.  Then name it something like Bruno, King or Fuck me.

So when you’re out walking it and it gets off the leash you can do the thing of calling your dog like

“Heeeee-oooooooooorrrrrrrrrr Bruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuno!”

Or when a fuckwit burglar hops your wall it’ll be greeted by your manly pooch and shout “Fuck me!”.  Then you can’t be done.

Legal fact.

Probably.

Thankfully, the 80′s revival is on it’s last legs.  Don’t get me wrong, I loved the nostalgia factor as much as the next man but enough is enough.

Ireland’s biggest and best 90′s band, Pump Up The Jam, agree and together with Boob.ie, they are offering a lucky reader 2 complimentary tickets to “Pump Fiction”, their Pulp Fiction themed night on the 25th of September in The Sugar Club located on Dublin’s Leeson Street.

This promises to be a balls-out fantastic night, kicking off with 90′s Karaoke at 9pm, followed by a “Jack Rabbit Slims Twist Contest” and then topped off with a fantastic live performance by none other than Pump Up The Jam themselves.  And if you still aren’t satisfied (you greedy bastards) then there is a DJ on afterward who’ll play 90′s music into the wee hours to keep you happy!

For any of you who have never seen Pump Up The Jam live, you don’t know what you are missing.  I was at their Baywatch themed night last month and it felt like I was right back in my local disco lined up against the wall, trying to pluck up the courage to ask a girl to “meet” me.  Great crowd, great music and a great venue.  What more could you ask for?

Some of you stupid fuckers paid in or around ONE HUNDRED Euro to see Guns ‘n’ Roses as a nostalgic trip down memory lane.  Hang your head in shame!  Pump Up The Jam are the ULTIMATE nostalgia trip bar none!

The band cover all of your favourite 90′s classics and you could easily be mistaken to think that you are listening to a CD.  They really are that damn good.   From 2 Unlimited to MC Hammer, it’s all there and it’s still as fucking excellent/cheesy/rocking as you remember.

So dust off your Eclipse Jeans, Gore-Tex and Naff Jackets get down to the Sugar Club on the 25th.  Tickets are a steal at 10 Euro or if you want to immerse yourself in the spirit of the “Pump Ficton” night, you can dress up like a Pulp Fiction character and get in half price!!!!  So there is no excuse to not join the boob.ie crew and pump the fuck out of the jam!!

To be in with a chance to win two complimentary tickets, just add a comment underneath this article, or on our Facebook Page telling us what your favourite 90′s lyric is and why!!!  The most original/funny comment will pick up the prize.

It couldn’t be more simple!

Wow!

Words really can’t do justice to the experience myself and Maxi had in Thorpe Park last weekend.  But considering that this is an article on a website, I better try.

The fantastic people at Thorpe Park asked us over to test our manliness on their assortment of gravity defying, vomit inducing rides and rollercoasters.  Now us here in this small island are spoilt with choices of funfairs and amusement parks.  We have Funderland once a year and we have……erm…….well that’s about it.  So both Maxi and I jumped at this opportunity to go to a REAL theme park.

Maxi went over on the Friday and due to work commitments, I was unable to go until the following day.  Much to my amusement, Maxi decided his extra day in London wouldn’t be used to go out on the razz, go clubbing or even get pissed in a genuine cockney boozer.  No, no, no.  Maxi, the editor of my beloved Boob.ie, decided that he would buy tickets to see Les Miserables!! (or as he puts it “Les Mis”).  What a man!!!

So after catching the 1st flight to Heathrow, I hurried to Thorpe Park, eager to get started as early as we could and avoid the queues for the rides due to the fact that it was a Bank Holiday weekend in England.  I had arranged to meet Maxi at 9:30am and I arrived at the park bang on time.  But where was Maxi?  After numerous ignored phonecalls, I finally  contacted him and was informed that he was running late (due to something about Les Mis tickets, I dunno, my gay filter ensured I missed most of the story)   What’s an Irishman to do in such a situation??  I decided to get a bus back to Staines and find the nearest pub and wait.

2 hours and 7 pints later, Maxi arrived and we headed back to Thorpe Park, both excited about the prospect of completely scaring the shit out of ourselves.  As soon as we got there, my excitement turned sharply into absolute terror.  You see these rollercoasters on adverts or on telly and they look pretty intimidating but Jesus Christ, when you are actually stood underneath one of these monstrous contraptions, you better hope you aren’t wearing white trousers.

Thankfully, a mix of adrenaline and alcohol convinced me that it was a good idea to join the queue and get on the 1st ride of the day.

Stealth.

This bad-boy is a ridiculously steep and faeces inducingly high rollercoaster.   I have never been more exhilarated and terrified in my life.

As with most rides in Thorpe Park, It really has to be experienced to be believed.  There is the Nemesis Inferno and Colossus and many many more.  I won’t go into the details of all the rides we went on but you can check them out for yourselves here:  http://www.thorpepark.com/rides

But I would be wrong not to give a special mention to what I feel was the highlight of the trip.  You may have seen the ads on telly.  Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you…..SAW ISLAND!

First to assault my nerves was the Saw Live Action Maze.  I get shitted up by the thoughts of the Ghost Train in Funderland so this should have been a definite no-go for me.  But due to excessive alcohol consumption giving me false courage and the fact that I was not going to be less of a man than our Les Mis loving Maxi who was bounding about like an excited puppy on Viagra, I joined the queue.

First up, it’s not a maze.  It’s a set path and you can’t get lost.  Secondly, it’s absolutely pantwettingly brilliant.  I can’t go into too much detail as the whole experience is about being surprised, shocked and disgusted.  It more than delivered on every count.  It doesn’t last too long but if you are like me, you are kinda glad it’s over and you are back in daylight.

Then there was the reason I wanted to come to Thope Park.  You’ve all probably seen the ads on the telly for it.  If not, check this out :

This was my Everest.  I knew that if I could do this, I could do anything.  Unfortunately, due to the fact that it was a bank holiday and Maxi ensured we were nearly 3 hours late, there was a 2 hour queue.  2 long bloody hours.  To be fair to Thorpe Park though, half way through the long winding queue, they have a concession stand set up to break the monotony.  The only thing that was concerning me though was the fact that I was getting an alarmingly low level of Alcohol in my blood stream and while queueing, you are left looking at the ride and listening to the terrified screams of the punters that were on it.

When we finally got on, we were both giddy with excitement.  And it did not disappoint.  There is no feeling in the world like it.  Shit inducing pitch black drops, completely vertical ascents to the big 100 degree drop, blades twirling around your head and all the while Jigsaw telling you that you are pretty much going to die screaming in a horrible crumpled mess.  It was the best experience I’ve had in a long time.

It’s was pretty pathetic to see the reaction of both me and Maxi afterwards.  We were like giddy kids just laughing uncontrollably and debating whether or not we should queue up again immediately afterwards.  Thankfully, we didn’t as there was so much more to see.

I’m not going to harp on about all the rides but I promise, there is something there for everybody.  It’s not all gut churning rollercoasters.  There are log flumes, hobby horses, various different carnival games, entertainers.  It’s got the whole lot!  Just look at this map!!  http://www.thorpepark.com/plan-your-visit/park-map.aspx

From the biggest adrenaline junkie to the complete pussy, from the tee-totaller to the raging alcoholic and from the Stag Night to the family holiday, Thorpe Park can cater for you all.  We had initially intended to only stay for a few hours but ended up being one of the last to leave.

I implore, nay, I DEMAND that you visit this park as soon as possible.  They are having Fright Night specials on in October so there is plenty of time to book AER LINGUS (not Ryanair) flights and get your accommodation.  I guarantee you will have an experience to remember.

So get over to their website www.thorpepark.com and have a look for yourselves.

Again, we here at boob.ie would like to give our huge thanks to all the staff at Thorpe Park and especially Sarah Morris who made it all possible.  We hope to see you again soon!

P.S.  If Maxi says anything about Cheerleaders and the song Hey Mickey, he is a liar.

If you’re a die hard gamer, you’ll have this one already and if you do, you’ll have done one of two things:

• Become entirely underwhelmed by the start of it, but give it a chance in the hope it gets better
• Realise that you’ve seen it all before and bring it back to shove up the arse of the fucker who took your hard earned money for it

If you’re a new gamer you might have this and think it’s great.  It’s not.  You poor poor fool you.

I saw Paddy eye this one up in the airport on our recent trip to Thorpe Park, I have to admit that I’d never heard of it, or even the first one.  I’m pretty sure that in order for there to be a 2 of something, there must have been a 1.

So when my Xbox died and I got a game “free” with the new one, I decided to opt for this one.

Knowing nothing about the first game, I can’t tell you if it’s better than the first one or not.  But I will say this, if it is an improvement on the first one, how was a sequel justified?

The only game that SCREAMS to mind when the gameplay starts is GTA, only set in 1940′s mafia territory.  If it sounds like a larf, it will be, for about 10 minutes.

The start off missions begin like any other game, as softly softly missions to ease the newbie to the games into the world.  Fair enough.  Trouble is though with gamers with a little more experience, they tend to judge the gameplay on these first few missions.  And it’s during these early stages that the whole thing begins to go tits up.

There’s so much wrong with this game it’s hard to know where to start, so rather than bitch about them for 1200 words, here’s some handy bullet points

• It’s shit
• Yup, that’ll do it

The fist fights involve you waiting for your turn to throw a punch or dodge your opponent’s jabs.  It’s a three button affair that screams of my Mega Drive days playing Streets of Rage.  The map is Huuuuuuuuuuuge and there’s fuck all to fill it in terms of places to go, or things to do.  You can explore the map, but that’s all you’ll be doing.  There is no interaction in the map, with characters or environment unless you’re on a mission.  So it’s not like GTA where you can just pick randomers off with a Tommy Gun.  The missions are standard stuff like, drive this guy here, take this package there, have a boring and frustrating fist fight every now and again and get chased by the fuzz.  This also may have been a glitch, but at one point I got so bored that I started a fight with a copper, only to run around a corner and lose all the flashing stars that were out to get me.

There is an interesting feature of having to pick locks to steal cars, instead of just running up to one and finding that the owner has left the keys in it.  But this does fuck all when you’re being shot at.

Although, all you’ll have to do in this instance is hide behind something like an orange box and you’re shielded by the bullets.  Popping your head out of cover for a head shot and you’re done.

I don’t know why, but for some reason the first time you get control of the main character (Vito) is in WW2.  This is where you’ll learn to get cover, shoot and kill suckers.  Is this because there’s so many of us stuck playing war games?  Dunno, but it makes no sense to me.

You have to go to bed to rest, you have to eat to replace energy levels, which all sounds like they want to keep a sense of some sort of reality in the game, but it’s all too little that no one gives a shit about.  Plus it’s frustrating as fuck.

There are some good points though.

And they lie in the cinematic sections.  You’ll look forward to these more than the actual game, which is great for the animators of the sections, and shite for the programmers.  They are beautifully put together and really are like mini movie segments, instead of just fillers for game makers who realise that they’ve a shit game.  But then, that may have been what happened here.

It’s out now and costs around the €50 mark for a new copy and probably about €30 for a second hand copy.

Unless you loved the first one and Nurse Ratched took your brain like poor old McMurphy, leave it where you see it.

If you don’t believe me, check out this mega boring gameplay trailer from last years Gamescom.

Over all I’ll give it 2/5.

I have already put the world to rights, or at least I thought I had.  It’s just as well I left it open for a sequel.

Men the world over are letting the fucking side down and I have got to do something about it.  WE have got to do something about it.

I simply will not stand for anymore of it.  Here you’ll find another list of what some “men” are getting up to, it must stop.

1.  Thou shalt not count calories

Ladies -  This is how a man should look.  If you’re man isn’t man enough to look like this before you know it he’ll be raiding the tampons and gorging on Special K.  Is that what you want?

Men – if your woman ever looks at you and mutters “Do you really need a straw in that gravy?”, you should fight back.  Never resort to violence, for we are more cunning than that.  Simply turn the tables and respond with “Fuck you, you fat cunt”.  It’s all about subtle psychology.  If she still gets upset it’s only because she’d have to spend a fortune on surgery to get tits like yours.

2.  Thou shalt not use internet speak such as “OMG”, “LOL”, “semi colon dash close bracket” in everyday actual face to face conversation

I swear to holy jeebus that I actually witnessed two grown men using these phrases while talking to each other in a coffee shop the other day.  They were both wearing suits, both were not taking the piss, both were talking about their wives and kids.  If I wasn’t so disgusted at their behaviour I would have wrestled them to the ground and slowly dragged my sweaty scrotum across their top lips.  Having said that they probably would have tweeted the whole fucking thing while rofl-ing.  Cunts.

3.  Thou shalt not watch soaps

No one cares if Phil Mitchell is fucking Vera Duckworth, or what any loser character on Fair City is up to.  Next time I see a man sitting down to an omnibus of Emmerdale Farm with a nice cup of tea I’ll send Twink over to drag her sweaty scrotum over their faces.  I would threaten to dip their nuts into a cup of electrified leprosy, but any man who is up to speed on any of these programmes traded in their marbles for a nice comfy vagina a long time ago.

Oh, and if you ever need another reason not to watch soaps, wrap your eyeballs around this beauty.

4.  Thou shalt not drink cocktails

Does he look manly?  No, he looks so precious and innocent.  At night when he’s helped all of his female friends pick up the men he’s been eyeing up all night, he goes home and cries himself to sleep while wanking over Telly Bingo on the Sky Plus.  He hates himself, his mixed drinks do little to shield his mixed past and emotions from the world no matter how many colours or umbrellas-ellas-ellas he loads in there.  Poignant?  No, gay.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

And TGI Friday’s do a marvellous Barnamint Baileys.

5.  Thou shalt not be fashion conscious

Gok Wan is a cunt.  There he is there in the middle and he looks more feminine than any of those women.   I know he’s gay and outer than an out house, but still.  Either way, he’s surrounded by a circle of naked women and he’s more concerned with his designer glasses and custom made shirt.  Ironic that he should have a program called “How to look good naked” when I bet he looks like a giant shaven quim with no clothes on.  Be honest Gok, and call the program “How not to look like a furry burger”, because you’d be taking your own advice by not wearing those hideous glasses, bitch.  Oh and the one on the right looks like Alan Carr.

Shank is, and I mean this in just a cool a way as it sounds, Danny Trejo: The Game. Like the recently released Limbo, Shank is a perfect example of how downloadable games can be gorgeous looking and fun alternatives to their more expensive store released brothers.

Story

The story is something like The Crow crossed with Kill Bill on the set of Dusk Till Dawn. You play as Shank, the titular hero, who has been wronged by his previous employers and left for dead after they slaughtered and (it is implied) raped the shit out of his lady. The game starts you out seven years after the betrayal/rape/beating, with Shank kicking the living snot out of a bar full of scumbags, trying to track down the group who fucked him over. You then spend the rest of the game shooting, stabbing, and chainsawing your way to justice.

The story is nothing revolutionary, and some moments will have you laughing outright at the silliness of it all, but it makes for an amusing yarn. Any doubts as to whether the tongue is placed firmly enough in the cheek will leave you when you fight a certain boss who is decked out in S n’M gear and sends henchmen furries after you. It’s pulpy, trash, funny entertainment – and it works a treat.

Design

Shank shows Barney the "Finglas Cuddle"

One of the best things about Shank is the co-operative multiplayer option. Normally when predominantly single player games throw in a co-op mode it doesn’t actually bring anything new to the table, but newer releases like Splinter Cell: Conviction and now Shank are offering new storylines and narratives to the multiplayer element. Co-op mode takes the form of a prequel to Shank’s tale of vengeange. You team up with a dude named Falcone and bash, stab and bludgeon your way through waves of enemies. It’s slightly different to the single player mode in that you can do double takedowns, and you occasionally have to make tactical decisions about how to dole out weapons and health. A new storyline and bosses make this a very worthwhile addition, but players should be warned that co-op can only be played locally. This is great news for me, a firm believer that couch co-op is infinitely more fun and satisfying than the social black void of headset multiplayer, but it may irk some.

At certain points Shank reaches a near-biblical level of difficulty. Yep, the old-school difficulty curve can be hard to get used to for us modern day molly-coddled gamers, but you can rest assured that it never gets too difficult for too long – apart from one fiendishly hard boss on the co-op campaign, which took me and a buddy nearly 40 minutes to beat. Like its ancestors, Shank features some frustrations that will drive you completely round the bend – such as one level where it rains missiles at random for the entire duration. Thankfully, these wont mar your experience too much, and most are thankfully brief. While it has some hiccups, the game is well balanced enough so that Shank will always feel like the biggest bad ass in the world when you’re in control of him.

Gameplay

Shank is nothing if not ballsy

Shank is strictly 2-D, meaning you wont have to worry about much except moving forward and fighting dudes, with the odd platforming section thrown in. The combat works very well, for the most part. All of Shank’s hand drawn animations look beautiful and feel great to pull off. There has been some hubbub on message boards across the net about the animations taking a while to complete and leaving Shank vulnerable. Yes, this happens, but it’s not gamebreaking in the least, and the exact same thing features in a whole slew of games from Street Fighter to God of War with the intention of forcing the player to think outside the button mashing box and plan their attacks.

You collect a bunch of different weapons to compliment your namesake knives as you progress through the story, and you’ll definitely find a favourite amongst them. Certain weapons are needed for the odd occasion but for the most part they merely serve as more options to dispense with the waves of baddies coming towards you.

The second playable character, Falcone, looks the head off Danny Trejo. Awesome.

And murder them you will. Fuck their day up entirely you will. Annihalate the shit out of them YOU WILL! And by god is it fun. You have basic melee attacks, a heavy attack, and guns and grenades – but the best part is mixing all these together to create that ultimate bad-ass death combo. You can get by at the start fairly easily by mashing buttons, but soon you’ll have to mix up your ranged and close-up attacks carefully. This is great fun thanks to the interesting grapple and pounce mechanics, which feature more prominently than in other beat em ups. The pounce button enables you to pin smaller enemies, you can then stick them a couple of times to keep them compliant as you use your guns to keep more dangerous enemies at bay. Jesus how psychotic did that sound?

The enemies are varied enough and good craic to fight. There are definitely some that will drive you batty but this makes it all the more satisfying when you jack them up proper. Boss battles are well designed and fun, tasking you with staying alive until you figure out the right combination of moves or which weakness to exploit to win.

There is one very odd design choice in that the same button that is used for picking up health replenishing items and weapons also happens to be the main attack button. Oftentimes you’ll accidentally drink all your nourishing cervezas by accident in the heat of a boss battle, or steal some grenades or health that your second player desperately needs in co-op. This is a baffling and frustrating problem in an otherwise tight and responsive game.

Presentation

Only Shank can draw cocks with the blood spatter from his chainsaw.

Shank is absolutely stunning to look at, featuring a slick hand-drawn look that echoes Samurai Jack and the short lived Clerks: The Animated Series cartoon shows. The whole vibe is a wonderful super-polished old school. You get the names of the baddies you’re fighting á la Streets of Rage, which is a nice touch. Environments are nicely varied, making the game feel a lot bigger and deeper than it actually is, with Shank travelling everywhere from a speeding train to a seedy strip club to an old castle on his quest for vengeance.

The Music is great, once you get over the fact that it is heavily informed by the spanish guitar-led Mexicorchestral pieces that Robert Rodriguez has been featuring in his movies as far back as El Mariachi and Desperado. Voice works also fares well, falling  just the right side of 80′s ridiculousness, with Shank himself being voiced by someone doing a pretty good Danny Trejo impression

I may have mentioned a lot of elements Shank has borrowed from, but it is one of the examples of video games taking from movies (that at least this time wasn’t fucking Aliens) where it really works and for this it should be applauded. It has enough of it’s own style and approach that it lands a good deal inside the lovely land of homage, instead of the festering clungepit of rip-off valley.

Overall

The single player campaign lasts about 4-5 hours, with about 3 hours to get through the co-op campaign. When you consider that this game might last you longer than a lot of action titles, then the asking price seems quite fair. As I said in my Limbo review, you’d also be supporting a new studio who have made something genuinely fresh instead of another Gears of War, Resident Evil or Call of Duty clone.

Klei Entertainment have created a fun and addictive old-school brawl em up, with visual flair in spades. Sure there are flaws, but if games like Prototype, The Force Unleashed and The Punisher taught us anything, it’s that a few minor flaws are easy to overlook when you give a player so many different ways to destroy someone – in style!

Danny Trejo for Taoiseach!!

Shank is available on XBLA for 1200 MS Points (14.40) or PSN for €12.99.