Wolfy-Boey's Profile - destructoid
Site Beta in Progress Plz pardon our dust   |   Feedback

Note: We're improving our cblogs tech / sorry / this page will be updated again shortly. - Staff

Wolfy-Boey's blog

Member since: 2010-05-04 05:14:33
Wolfy-Boey's blogs   
  • Promoted Blogs       |    RSS

      From our Community Blogs

    Continuing his never-ending quest to protect the public from non-existent threats, UK prime minister and Conservative party leader, David Cameron has proposed new laws that would criminalise the act of shoving Skylanders up the arse. This comes shortly after the government imposed much tighter regulations on the UK porn industry, but Cameron believes these recent changes are not enough.

    "There are some real sickos out there," announced Cameron, in a manner so stiff, you could have sworn he was a Skylanders figure himself. "This is a really depraved and decadent society we live in today. A world that sells stilettos where the heels are buttplugs, a world that makes Sapphire Blue Anal Beads that cost 120£, a world where grown men and women shove children's toys up their anuses. It's time we rounded these people up and throw them in the one place where no one can shove foreign objects into their anus: prison."

    After the news, a public opinion poll showed that most were both curious and befuddled by the speech. Many responded that they had never seen or heard of any case where anyone had put a Skylander figure up their chungus. In fact, of all the people that participated, no one had even thought about it, let alone commit the act of slowly sliding a cheeky Skylander in and out of ones bum hole, until Cameron had mentioned it in his speech. Some seemed to get excited the more the spoke about it.

    In unrelated news, sales of Activion's popular Skylanders series have now tripled. To celebrate, Activision has suggested creating some sort of Skylanders branded stilettos. 

    Photo Photo

    Hatred Game

    Destructive Creations, the videogame developer behind the controversial 'Hatred' has decided to cancel a planned sequel after both fans the media had reacted poorly to previews.

    Set in the present day, 'Hatred 2' would have put players in the shoes of Michael Brown, a 43 year old white male police officer who goes on a rampage and starts killing unarmed black men. The game was first revealed to the public at a recent press event where a trailer was premiered. But the reaction from the audience was not what Jarosław Zieliński, Destructive Creations CEO and his team were hoping for.

    "People just didn't seem too phased by the contents of the game," Said Zieliński, "After successfully upsetting everyone with our first title, we wanted to make something that was even more outrageous, even more shocking with the sequel. But all we got was general apathy."

    Zieliński recalls an exciting moment when he thought he'd seen a journalist gasp in horror, only to be later informed that said journalist was merely yawning.

    "It's like everyone has seen this sort of thing so many times before that they've become desensitised to it, you know? They're just so accustomed to seeing innocent black men die. Police brutality has kind of gotten boring at this point, and we pride ourselves on not making boring games at Destructive Creations, only ones in poor taste. We had to cancel the game."

    But Owen, a 26 year old white, male gamer disagrees with Jarosław Zieliński's assertions. He argues that the reason why the game wasn't controversial is because the black men killed aren't innocent. According to him, some weren't even unarmed. "There ain't nothing controvertial about killing thugs." Declares Owen, as he scratches his beard with the barrel of his shotgun.

    "Look the level at the gas station for example. The black guy is holding a gas pump in his hand, which could far too easily be mistaken for a gun from a distance. And if you're standing in a gas station with something that vaguely looks like a gun, you're pretty asking to be burned to crisp by a giant explosion. You're asking for it."

    Right now, Destructive Creations has decided to move onto other projects. One of there more promising ones has players take control of a man who sexually harasses women on the street. The team hopes that people will actully care enough to be outraged by it. 


    Hello there, I am Wolfy-Boey. You might know me from such old ass blogs such as this or this or maybe you don't! But who cares about that stuff, out with the old and in with the new I always say. Lucky for you, what you clicked on by accident is holds not one, not two but 10 totally fresh and new factoids about me, me, me!

    So sit back and enjoy, as I selflessly strip myself bare in front of your naked eyes!

    10. I hate cupcakes

    Let me make one thing clear, I HATE ICING. I happen to think icing is the worst thing to ever happen to baking. I do however, love muffins, so when I was to atrocity that is the cupcake, I couldn't help but sneer. I couldn't ever bare to swallow my first bite. The way I see it, cupcakes are the result of someone trying to mask the awfulness of some bad muffins he's made by just covering them up with lots and lots of sugar. Cupcakes are a disgrace to the cake family. It is a muffins with bird crap on it.

    Muffins >>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cupcakes.

    9. I used to think out loud in class when I was a kid

    This was a habit I developed when I first changed schools and didn't have any friends. I'm an introvert by nature, and I mainly feel awkward when surrounded by a lot of people. So I mainly sat quietly in the back of the class all alone. Not having anyone to talk to meant that all my witty and unquestionably hilarious comments would go unnoticed. I recalled when Guybrush Threepwood would talk out loud in The Curse of Monkey Island and decided to do the same. People thought I was talking to myself (to be fair, I kind of was). People were getting scared.

    To make matters worse I used to sit next to the wall and would occasionally crudely draw dinosaurs and tanks on there. The rumour mills began spinning wild tornadoes once I started drawing tiny soldiers killing each other. Then there was my general weirdness. The fact that I carried a gourd to class with me everyday. My packed lunch having an apple ALL THE TIME. Talking about video games any and every time I spoke. A general lack of interest in more popular subjects, like football, basketball and other ball related activities. Tucking my shirts under my pants. Dear lord, when will all this WEIRDNESS end!

    A year later, the school would hire a psychiatrist and I would be her first - and as far as I know, only- student. I sat in a room with her, she asked some questions. She then left the room, leaving me with a paper, a few pencils and instructions to draw whatever was on my mind at the moment. I drew some dude riding roller blades. The whole process took about 5 minutes. I never saw her again.

    I guess I was deemed normal. I wish I had that on paper though, because most people still don't believe that I am.

    8. I love Waterworld

    Yes, I mean the Waterworld where Kevin Costner drinks his own pee and Dennis Hopper wears an eye patch. Yes, I am aware that it's too long, that Dennis Hopper is INSANE in it and that Kevin Costners character is unsympathetic. I still love it.

    7. In High school I rented my DS to a couple of students

    I had previously lent my DS to some class mates during History class, but they loved it so much they kept asking for it every time. I got annoyed after a while because really, I wanted to play Advance Wars: Dual Strike and I didn't anybody else messing up my campaign. So I refused to lend my DS to anyone unless they payed me by the hour. To my surprise, they accepted. I made quite a bit of money. Instead of investing it back into my business and buying more DS games though, I just used all my profits to buy a lot of fruit Mentos.

    I have no regrets.

    6. When translated, my real name has the potential to be pretty awesome.

    My real name is Iyad El-Hout.

    El-Hout literally means: The Whale.

    The origin and meaning of Iyad is very fuzzy, but the ones that have repeated themselves the most are: might, warrior and pigeon.

    Thus, my name is: Mighty Warrior Pigeon, The Whale. Yup.

    5. I can stretch my toes pretty far apart.

    The one thing that stuck with me after watching Disney's Tarzan wasn't the epic, emotional and inspiring score by the always amazing Phil Collins, nor was it the grand finale or the gorgeous animation. Nay. the only thing on my mind as soon those credits rolled; How the fuck did Tarzan stretch his toes enough to grab vines with his pinky toe?

    After that I stretched my toes as far as I could at least once just before going to sleep. In a few months time, I had succeeded and would forever make my relatives jealous of my toe stretching skills.Who says your dreams can't true?

    Actually, about that...

    4. I tried applying to Digipen to study Game Design

    Whenever anyone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, the answer was clear: A Game Designer. I loved playing video games and was (and still am) genuinely fascinated by the hard work, dedication and design necessary to create. Alas, it was not to be, for a series of unfortunate events that sorely lacked any presence of Jim Carrey, I missed the deadline and never really got a chance to apply a second time. Now I've somehow ended up in Scotland studying for a career I honestly can't say I'm too excited about. C'est la vie, n'est-ce pas?

    3. I don't eat or sleep much.

    This seems quite odd on contradictory considering how both how lazy I am and how passionate I've become about cooking. I pretty much force myself to go to sleep and have to remind myself to eat most times. I always found it hypocritical that my parents scolded me for wasting precious time during the day and then demanded I waste at least 8 hours of night sitting comfortably in a bed, staring at the wall. I guess I prefer to spend my time on more productive endeavours like procrastinating or scratching my bum. If I'm feeling a bit proactive, maybe even, I don't know... Do both at the same?

    2. I performed at a comedy club twice.

    At first this may seem to contradict with my previous mentions social ineptitude and crowd anxiety. Surprisingly though, I'm actually a pretty good public speaker. Maybe it's the fact that I know what to talk about before hand and prepare what I want to say even. Maybe it's that, the fact that both parties know what to expect from each other. Or maybe I'm just unbelievably charming and charismatic and I just don't know it. I don't know. All I know is, I don't vomit on anybody whilst preforming, and that some people laughed at some words I said. So that's good!

    Still, I can't help but feel I could do a lot better. My delivery wasn't as precise as I'd like it to be and I din't really move or express myself with my body, in fact I barely moved at all. This is definitely something I wish to pursue further, so I hope I improve. Now, I just need to find a gig that isn't 400 miles away.

    1. I am the only one who still (or maybe ever?) tags all his blogs with "Gay for Joseph Gordon-Levitt"

    Because I'm still totally gay for Joseph Gordon-Leviit.


    Coldplay are my favourites musicians and Viva La Vida is my favourite album.

    Don't look at me like that. Their music is marvellous. Stop looking at like that!

    It's beautiful! It is!

    Well, that's ten things you didn't know about me. I hope this can bring us closer and maybe even become friends one day. Now leave me alone! I want to listen to Yellow in a dark corner with nothing but my feelings besides me.

    SHUT UP!
    Photo Photo Photo

    With dungeons, Wizards, brave Knights, fire breathing Monsters and Silly Hats, the world of cooking is a tempting one. Like any rewarding hobby, however, it requires a lot of time and dedication.

    Often, quests can demand a lot of meticulous planning and strategic action. You must make sure to choose the right party members, weapons and equipment for your quest, lest you fail miserably and end up with nothing but a dry steak and an over seasoned salad as your loot.

    So join me, as I recount the tale of my most recent -and by far my most challenging- escapade to date: The Portuguese Lemon Tart.

    Firstly, I thought I'd introduce my chosen party members:

    Alexander Ovum, a cocky and eccentric knight.

    Alexander has served me well many times before and he is versatile and highly dependable. He's a bit of quirky fellow. I don't get why he keeps cracking up all the time.

    Archimedes Citrus, a powerful shape-shifting wizard.

    Archimedes, I've requested his help many times in combat. Is most powerful spell, "Acidity", has come in handy more times than I can count. I've never relied on him like I'm about to today as he can bit a bit clumsy. Let's hope he doesn't disappoint.

    Our heroes noble goal was a simple one: to create the best damn Portuguese Lemon Tart know to man.

    Our adventure begins, and almost immediately, we were faced with our very first adversaries: four tablespoons of sugar.

    They were far more devious that we had anticipated. It seemed as if most of our attacks were ineffective, and escape from them seemed impossible. Luckily Archimedes had remembered that sugar would melt in water like that witch from The Wizard of Oz. He quickly summoned a spell that whisked all away into the nearest pond.


    But though our victory was indeed sweet (pun intended), we could not be feel a slight be of concern. After all, if a few mere edible crystalline carbohydrates could cause us such hardship, we clearly not powerful enough to complete our quest.

    So we did what any adventurer would do in a situation like this:


    And with the help of some evolutionary gemstones...

    Commonly referred to as "lemon zest" and "unsalted butter"

    Our heroes managed to evolve into a something new and more powerful than ever before:


    Now, we were ready. With a new found strength and abilities never before seen across the entirety of this kitchen, we were ready to head into the twisted inferno of a dungeon that is:


    As a feeble, weak, slim and unbelievably handsome human, I cannot risk having my face melting from excessive heat. It pains to send my soldiers, my friends, alone to complete their quest. Furthermore, once they go in, they would have to be successful. There are no second chances.

    I gave them 30 minutes to trek through all the rooms and complete them. No more, no less.

    It is my great pleasure to say that they managed to do so flawlessly.

    But this sadly, is not the end. No, for no quest would be complete without an all mighty boss fight at the end, would it? No story would be complete without an epic battle of good VS evil to punctuate its end, of Heroes VS Villains.

    Oh, and what villains we had to face.

    Gaster: A greedy and vulgar beast.

    It is as if this monstrosity was made for the sole purpose of consuming anything that comes into contact with it.

    Os: A garrulous and snobby gourmand.

    He is Gasters oldest friend and loyal goon. He doesn't speak much, but he does it's either to complain about something or talk about things no one cares about (like videogames).

    Now is the time.

    The Battlefield is ready

    I make my approach...


    Something is missing...

    My top hat, but of course! (Top Hat increases chances of success in life by 99.9%)

    And with one full sweep, Gaster and his friend are no more.

    Our quest was a resounding success!

    You may have noticed by now, fair reader, that I have yet to make mention of any sort of reward. Well, you see that right there, fair reader? In the blurry picture below.

    It took me around three hours to get this meal prepared, photographed and done. It took only fifteen minutes to actually eat those tarts. But that right there, that smile, is worth it.

    Because whether I spend sixty bucks or just a measly dollar, whether I spend five minutes or a one hundred hours, if all that hard work and effort -no matter how big or small- makes you smile in the end of it all, even if it's just for one second, it's all worth it.

    That smile is the greatest reward.
    Photo Photo Photo

    One fun little thing about our childhoods is the way we viewed everything in life. Everything was either oversimplified or blown completely out of proportion. And yet most times these views hold some surprising truth behind them. Sometimes these views can be even seen as too blunt or unsympathetic even.†

    Playing through De Blob 2, the game makes no attempt to be subtle about the themes itís trying to tackle. Itís quite obvious that the game deals with freedom of expression, censorship and urbanisation culture. Many may even see its analysis on these topics as juvenile and maybe even short sighted, but honestly thatís why I find De Blobs handling of the subject so intriguing. The game isnít meant to be intellectually stimulating or anything, after all, the games main audience is the young of mind. Hence, the games interpretation of these topics is done in such a way that five year old can relate with, and in doing so it becomes a window to how a child perceives them.

    Letís take a peek inside and see what could a seven year old tell us about freedom.

    First and foremost is the hero himself, Blob. Yes that is real name. Blob is that free spirited child in all of us who used to dunk his hands into buckets of paint and chaotically splash colours on anything, and everything he can get his grubby little hands on. Heís an enthusiastic and easily excitable little fellow who loves to have fun and a good adventure. Heís also a lazy slob who would love nothing more than to sit around in his house and watch some cartoons on his television. In other words, heís the ultimate seven year old kid.†

    In Blob's world colouring is both saviour of his people and the destroyer of his enemies. Itís almost like some magical power that operates on the power of blobs creativity and spirit. Colouring creates music where there is silence, it shines a light where there is darkness, it brings hope where there is sorrow and it transforms bleak and desolate environments into an oasis filled with cheer.†

    Iím sure all of this would resonate with a child. When I was but a young lad, a time where tamagotchis and Pokťmon ruled the playground, when I drew something on a piece of paper I would imagine it somehow come to life in front of my eyes. Every drawing of every dinosaur and giant robot was something I believed, in my tiny mind, could actually exist. That somehow my crayons could be a doorway to my imagination, and open the floodgates to my mind. Hey, if Santa Claus could be real, then why canít a dinosaur riding a giant robot while bromancing Spider-Man be real either.

    From this frame of mind, it's easy to see how Blob can easily become the hero of many young ones, maybe even a role model. The power he has is the same one we wish we had.

    Now, we have the antagonist, Comrade Black. The antithesis of what blob represents. He despises colour and individuality and would love nothing more than to have the entire population become bland, ordinary, obedient citizens. One thing that I find interesting about his character is the fact that the developers leave his motives and actual goals a bit ambiguous. Sure his ambitions are clear, but why? Why is it that he wishes that everyone becomes colourless, lifeless drones that obey his every command? Is it that heís envious of others who are more desirable and loved than him? Maybe he wasnít loved as a child? Or maybe he truly believes that what heís doing is for the better, that somehow it will lead them to new found glory. Could he just be misunderstood?†

    But by not clarifying this, it leaves the player free to interpret his persona as the player sees fit, and Iím sure young players in particular can read his character differently from one another. He can be seen as principal kill joy, that principal a kid remembers from school who always ruined everybodyís fun with his rules and regulations. That school bully that always pushed you and your friends around and stole your crayons. Or that overprotective parent who forces you to study and never lets you go out and play.

    What I find frightening, however, is the fact that no matter how hard the game tries to paint (ha!) Comrade Black as a villain, I canít bring myself to see him the way the characters in the game do. The man does commit some nefarious deeds, no doubt, but heís not what I would call a villain. For a cynical adult such as me, he comes off as a satire more than he does an evil-doer. Because everything he does seems to spoof real life political leaders and dictators.†

    I mean, letís take a look at his actions for just a second. He wishes the entire world to follow his ideologies and principles like generic drones, and heíll go through any means necessary to do so. He has a corrupt government where the only ones who work under him without questioning his orders. At the beginning of the game he even disguises himself as some sort of religious leader called Papa Blanc (bearing an uncanny resemblance to the pope) creates a religious cult for himself so as to brainwash citizens into blindly following him and voting for him in upcoming elections.

    All of this, and I still cannot see any evil in his actions. Because as an adult, this all seems far too normal and even familiar. For a seven year old it seems diabolical, but for a twenty year old, it seems normal.†

    Taken from this writers point of view, when you take all of that into consideration, De Blob 2 no longer becomes a simple tale of good versus evil, but of a child who refuses to grow up. It becomes a story about the struggle one goes through while growing older, and abandoning his older much more colourful world of pleasantry and carelessness. And not about freedom from obsession or tyranny, but the freedom to be oneself and marvel in the things you love.

    That's what freedom is all about, the choice to be whoever you want to be. It's the simplest concept in the world, so simple in fact, even a seven year old gets it.

    I go in, and the first thing I notice is the scent of armpits, old socks and greasy fries. The air conditioner is broken, again. Itís hot, and Iím wearing that horrible thick, blue sweater my aunt gave me on my birthday. Five minutes in and already, Iím drenched in sweat. The shouting of unsupervised spoiled children in the background, I walk up to the counter, and I look into the dejected eyes of the man before me and I slip him all the money I have in my pockets. Iím comfortable; this is all familiar to me. Iím at the arcade again.

    I ask for twelve coins, but he gives me only ten. He tells me that the price went up since last time. I donít mind. I donít care about the money. I couldnít care less about it, Iím just here today for the same reason I come here every other day: to get away, and I play some good video games. And today, just like every other day, Iím playing Time Crisis II.

    But this day was not like every other day.

    I go to my cabinet, and I reach down my pocket and take my first coin up. It glistens because of the sweat from my hands just before I put it in. My first coin is inserted. I have nine others left. I pull the trigger, Iíve begun to play. I aim and then I shoot, I take cover and I then get out and repeat the process. I forget the world, I forget what I have and I donít have. I forget that Iím alone. Every time I pop up and shoot someone in the face, Iím happy, Iím comfortable. So far, this is all familiar to me.

    But suddenly, something happens. Out of nowhere, I hear the racket of a coin being slotted in next to me. A new player joins me. This player is Tyler.

    Lifting his cumbersome red gun with only one hand, Tyler looks at me and gives away a light smile. He doesnít say a word, just that smile is enough. No introduction, no small talk, nothing. Tyler just gives me that smile, and weíre both ready to start.

    We work together beautifully. Without delay, we both push down the pedal at the same time. Tyler and I, we fire at pretty much a rhythmic manner. Itís almost like weíre playing off notes to a familiar song. He knows his queues, and I know mine. He guns down the ones on the left, I take down the ones on the right. When heís reloading, Iím shooting and vice-versa. If one of us gets hurt, the other immediately fires at to provide a diversion. Even the pickups, even the pickups, we evenly split.

    Moving through the town square, Tyler and I, we work together beautifully. Itís almost as if we have the same mind. But mistakes still happen. I make a fatal error; I look at the other screen when I should be concentrating on mine. Seeing me dead, Tyler breaks away from his monitor as well. I have six coins left.

    The first area is cleared, we move away from the pretty town square to some hidden alleys. Weíre supposed to chase down some psychopath with a suitcase. Shoot. Shoot. Shoot. Shoot to kill the criminals. Shoot to save the world. Shoot to solve the problem. Shoot to forget the world, to forget the problems. You have to keep shooting. Tyler and I, we keep shooting, but it seems we canít keep up. I canít keep up. I like to think weíre playing to the rhythm of "Where is my mind?" by Pixies. I keep missing my queues. I keep missing my queues. I keep missing my targets. I canít keep up with this much longer. Tyler carries on without me, but he canít finish this alone. No matter how hard he tries. He strives to succeed. He pushes himself to make it, to achieve something. Except something is always holding him back, and that something is me. I canít keep up with Tyler, and he canít keep on saving me.

    Our rhythm is broken. The tempo is ruined. The song is over, but you can still make out some noise. Weíre hammering away with our guns, hoping something good comes out of it. Hoping weíll survive until the next area. Death, after death after death, the suspense is mounting. I am eager to make it to the end, let me at least make it to the end.

    Luckily, we do. Tyler and I, we've reached the end, my joy is incalculable. Tyler and I, we've reached the end, together. I have two coins left.

    This is it. The climax, the grand finale, la fin, whatever you want to call it. Tyler and I, our next challenge is to take down some lunatic with a suitcase. Wonderful. All this time, weíre chasing after a suitcase. In our pursuit, weíve killed hundreds, weíve destroyed public property. Weíve probably wrecked families too, at least one of those guys must have been a father. Some poor kid is probably an orphan now. All of this, for a suitcase. Lovely.

    Focus. Tyler takes left, I take right. Just shoot everything in sight. I can do this, I have to do this. Tyler, he smiles at me one last time. ďDonít worry about itĒ, he confidently tells me, ďeverything will work out, it always does.Ē Tyler: dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, a red and white T-shirt, heís relaxed. Slim and just a little bit overconfident. Focus. I know Iím capable of completing this. I have one coin left.

    Tyler, he is what I can only dream to be. He is the answer to all of my problems, the solution to my flaws. Accuracy: The ability to perform a task with precision. By that definition, I am inaccurate. I can barely preform any task, let alone do so precisely. My ambition is handicapped by my laziness. Tyler is accurate. It comes as no surprise to me that he is the one that fires the very last bullet. The one that ends it all. Just one bullet can change everything. Just one simple moment in time can make you notice what you've done, and what you want to do. It can make the difference between who you are and who you could be. Game Over. Tyler and I, we worked beautifully together.

    And now for that moment. That moment in time where I notice what I've done and what I want to become. For as the screens fade to black, I glance upon the reflection. There is no one but for one man. It was only me, holding both guns at the same time.

    The truth is, there is no Tyler.
    Photo Photo Photo

  • Back to Top