Jamison Trumpets

Marvel vs Capcom 3

April 20th, 2010 by Jamison T. Rumpets

So it’s finally been announced, and I would really like to say that I’m fucking stoked for this game. Unfortunately, with the way the teaser looked, I can easily say that I’m skeptical about what may happen to one of my favorite fighting game series. The producer of this exciting new game is the same person who produced Tatsunoko vs Capcom (TvC), and while I enjoy that game I hope they keep a couple of things from that game out of my Marvel vs Capcom game.

The first issue  I’m worried about is whether or not the art style of TvC will go well with this new MvC. My main issue isn’t the art itself, but more how this will look with Marvel’s intense speed. The next problem comes if they don’t maintain that  intense speed, because while TvC is fun it isn’t nearly as fast-paced and exciting as MvC.

These are my main issues with the teaser (and while that was not a long list of reasons, it’s a teaser so it isn’t really forthcoming with information), and anything after that is simply me wondering what they are going to do with the game. While I loved MvC2 (Marvel vs Capcom 2 if you’re dumb), this is a new game so I expect to see something new to the table. MvC2 and MvC1, while the art styles are similar (really, identical) they are two different games. Marvel 2 places a greater value on assists than Marvel 1 (which has a drastically different assist system than 2) and it of course upgraded the standard “2-Person team” into a “3-Person team.” It was an exciting transition to be sure.

Now that the new one is coming out, I hear a lot of people (a.k.a. idiots) bitching about change, using such phrases as “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” This is a poor choice of words to use when it comes to Marvel considering that Marvel vs Capcom 2 is one of the most broken games of all time.

Don’t get me wrong, the game is fun as shit.  It’s one of my favorite games, and while I’m not exactly great at the game it’s still boatloads of fun. This doesn’t change the fact that the game is broken, it’s just wrong. If you don’t know anything about the game, you’ll probably take a look and say to yourself, “Wow, what a wide selection of characters!”

This is your first mistake, because you are seeing the forest when there is a pack of bears ready to maul the fuck out of you right in front of you. These 4 bears are named Magneto, Storm, Cable, and Sentinel. They are kings of the forest, especially since the forest is just a bunch of trees and these are fucking bears.

What I’m saying is that these 4 characters are the best in the game, and there is no dispute on the matter. There are many different fighting games where people say “This character is the best”, but there is room for interpretation. This is not the case with Marvel, anyone who argues that Sentinel is not the mac daddy of all giant rapist robots from the future is clearly wrong and doesn’t know what they are talking about.

Which brings me back to my point (which was Marvel vs Capcom 3 in case you drifted off), Marvel vs Capcom 2 is EXTREMELY broken, so by all means attempt to fix it. However, I’m hoping that they hire those ass-crack piece of shit plumbers who you hire to fix your pipes, and they do the job, but in the process they kidnap your children.

I’m hoping Capcom keeps that plumbing past-time in mind when making this game.

Narrative Writing and J.T.’s List of No-Nos

January 25th, 2010 by Jamison T. Rumpets

Don’t like writing? Think writing is for weenies? Do you pick up books and base their chance of being purchased based on the ratio of half-naked women on the cover to sexual euphemisms in the title (The most successful known ratio to date has been 10 to 1 belonging, of course, to The Bible)? If you said yes to any of these questions, then the following post is probably not for you. Why you may ask? Well the reason being is that you may confuse my list of what I believe to be trends of bad writing (and all bad writing related incorporations) for being exceptionally good writing. The confusion that will settle in your brain will be enough to kill you ten times over and then an eleventh time on top of that.

Writing has been around for ages (almost 4 years now!) and as a result of other people’s success, many have tried their hand at writing. They think to themselves, “If a story about gay vampires and personality-less women can be hugely successful, then my story about gay vampires mummies and personality-less women will be just as successful!” Unfortunately for the human race, they are probably not far off the mark. This doesn’t change the simple fact, however, that with new rookie writers comes a lot of new rookie bad and horrible writers.

The main offender would be those darn teenagers and their rap music, always stomping all over my begonias on my lawn. This isn’t to say that all bad writers are teenagers, but almost all teenagers are bad writers.

What makes bad writers so horrible though? To me, there are different types of bad writers. There are the bad writers who generally realize that they are not fantastic writers and want to improve. These people may or may not be good writers in a couple of months/years/decades, but the fact is that they have the right idea.

Then there are bad writers who write the worst shit in the world. The type of writing that hurts your brain to read it, the type of writing that you think to yourself only one word (”WHY?!”), the type of writing that absolutely needs to be buried very far underground so as to not harm other people with it’s harmful UV rays. Then when you say that their story could use some improvement, you are somehow at fault for not “understanding their vision.” Well yes, I suppose you’re right. I couldn’t understand your horrible, awful, atrocity of a vision. I apologize that when I read stories I expect to be entertained, not in physical pain. My bad.

This is supposed to be a list though, right? Then let’s get a-listing (not to be confused with A-Listing) on trends of bad writings and things that if you want to be a better writer, you’ll avoid.

Number One: Character Naming

If you’re writing a story, you probably have characters in it. Characters are a key part of any story (unless it has no characters, then it’s really more of a poem) and as a result these characters have names. Naming characters is a difficult thing to do, and trust me I am well aware of the difficulty. I can’t name characters for shit, so trust me I know your pain.

So there you are naming your character and you start going through names in your head. “What should I name my protagonist? Should I name him Randy…maybe Henry…what about Johnathan…or Candy. Yeah, maybe he’s a stripper. No wait, that’s not right…” You’re desperately trying to come up with something decent, so you start thinking of names of other characters you enjoy.

This may or may not be you, but this is a lot of other prospective writers. Confused as to what I’m about to talk about? Well, what I am saying is that there are people who thoroughly enjoy watching japanese animation. As such, the characters in these stories have japanese names such as Sakura or Me Llamo Biscuit. Then it hits you like way too many bricks falling on you (Any number greater than zero bricks is way too many bricks); what if you were to name your character something cool like that?

It’s perfect! You’re writing a story about a kid who grew up in the suburbs of Arkansas, he’s lived with his mother and father (Julia and Bobbert, respectively) and it’s only natural that they would name their child Ichigo. All normal American parents name their pure American child born in America on American soil in an American hospital living in an American city with their American relatives something  as un-American as possible.

Number Two: Setting, Setting, Setting

Your story has its characters now, but these characters have to interact somewhere right? What’s a story without a setting, a place for the action to take place? Now it’s time for you to make that difficult decision, so you think to yourself what’s the easiest place you can write about. Unfortunately, this is probably your thought process: “Hmm, so I go to school. I could make my character be a student and then something ca-razy happens that turns his life in school into being way ca-razy.” You are of course well aware that ca-razy is a sub-branch of plain old vanilla crazy.

Your idea of writing about a character that goes to school, however, has been overdone. It’s been beaten to death, been turned into the worst type of “new writer cliche”, been beaten to death by Colonel Mustard with the candle in the living room. It’s understandable that people would choose a school as their setting, because what do teenagers know better than the angst-filled public education institute that they are currently presiding at. So they’ll place their character in their “made up” angst-filled public education institute where they will undergo many angst-filled public education institute situations, possibly they are shunned or embarassed by other angst-filled students at the angst-filled public education institute.

I’m here to tell you that your idea is boring as shit (if you hadn’t caught that already). What’s the way to remedy this? It’s very easy, avoid writing angsty stories about angsty teenagers at angsty schools with angsty teachers. This is not to say that your setting couldn’t be a school, but think to yourself whether or not it really has to be a school. Your story is about a teenager (possibly filled with angst) who is seemingly normal. Your character meets a “suspicious” person and suddenly their world is turned “upside-down” because now they have all these special powers and the government is very racist against special-powered people and they don’t believe they should be married because they feel that marriage should be between a man and a woman…

Whoa, whoops! Got a little side-tracked there! What I am trying to say is that your setting doesn’t necessarily have to be in a school. For example, your story could be just as effective if performed in (why not?) the Sahara Desert! Your character could be a teenager (possibly filled with angst) who is seemingly normal in the desert. Your character meets a “suspicious” cactus and suddenly their world is turned into nothing new because they still live in the desert. This might sound different than your original idea, but the plusses are that it takes place in the desert.

Number Three: Pitiful Attempts at Humor

You probably think you’re a funny person. You remember very clearly that time you were out with your friends and you did something that barely qualifies as mildly amusing and suddenly you’ve decided that today you’ll work on your life-long dream of being a stand-up comic. This is nothing like yesterday where you decided to fulfill your life-long dream of being an artist, no this is completely different. Now it’s the next day, and you’ve figured out that your life-long dream since you were a small child has been to become a writer (duh). Why not combine the best of both worlds though? You want to write stories but you want to make people chuckle to themselves in the process. Maybe your story is very serious (possibly in the desert?) but there are openings for humor.

So you begin to write in a blaze of poorly written fire. You start writing your story and also try and add a few “chortle-startles” as you call them when not in the vicinity of anyone you know to breathe oxygen. You take a look at your first chapter and you think to yourself (possibly in the desert?) that you are the most hilarious writer to have ever existed. Unfortunately, your first chapter has almost no content at all and is simply just a sea of poorly written jokes, horrible punchlines, unhumorous situations, and (if you took my advice) the desert.

How do you remedy this? There are some ways to do so. The first and most obvious remedy is to stop trying to be so goddamn funny you horrible excuse for a comedy writer. Not everyone can write humor, it’s not a skill that every writer is capable of. It’s not easy to write in a way that’ll produce a chuckle, and then on top of that there’s always the possibility that the type of humor you are writing does not appeal to the reader. Trust me when I say this is a real problem, especially when you are deciding whether or not you want to attempt a certain type of humor. “What if the reader doesn’t enjoy it? What if they hate it? What if they get offended?” These are things I used to ask myself before I said fuck it and decided to write the type of humor that I wanted to write (specifically, good humor).

The other way to remedy this is to put humor but don’t put the amount of humor you initially forced in there. There’s a second part to this remedy as well, and that is to ask several people to read over your work and ask them whether or not they think the humor is good, helping, or detrimental to the storyline. Slapping in a joke in the scene where a pair of camels are ripping the protagnist’s best friend in half is not a good idea.

Number Four: Novels of Description within the Novel

Confused by what I am saying? You won’t be as soon as I explain it to you. I want to ask you if you have read any bad stories lately. You probably have because it’s staring back at you on your computer screen. Let me ask you this then, does this look in any way familiar?

“Becky entered the room desert walking pretty fast-like and stuff. She had golden blonde hair with curly pigtails with blue ribbons in her hair. She was wearing a red t-shirt that says ‘Show me da money’ with white squigglies on the sleeves and her pants were faded blue jeans that were bejewled to say her name only the person who bejeweled it misspelled her name as ‘Bucket’. She was wearing white sneakers with rainbow laces and she had painted on them to make them look prettier. Her skin was tanned because of the hot sun and now she was sweating and she had this look on her face like she didn’t really want to be in the sun but now that she was in the sun she sort of had no choice. There she was, there stood Becky.

Becky is also about five foot, eight inches tall and she was sort of lanky with a lot of freckles on her face…”

There is one question that comes to mind when you read this “excerpt” that I just wrote up right now: “Who gives a fuck?” Is Becky that important that we have to care so much about the excruciating detail of her apparel? That next paragraph better end in, “Then Becky was stabbed by fifty muggers Saharan thieves and she died what experts would call the most painful death that any human could ever experience,” because that is what everyone was hoping would happen the second Becky’s stupid face was mentioned.

Ease up on the detail when describing characters. Detail is good and all, but too much detail and every single one of your characters is going to have to end up like Becky for your story to even survive past Chapter Three.

So what now? I’ve explained some things you should avoid when writing, but your story probably still is lacking! Well, unfortunately I can’t help you in this one post alone. So what is Jamison Trumpets going to do for you? We’ll keep you in suspense (just like any desert-themed book would do) and continue with our insights on writing and how to improve it.

Do you have any suggestions or ideas that writers should generally avoid or be cautious around? Want to see your idea on this list come to life with my own personal brand of horrible writing? Shoot me an e-mail at jamisontrumpets@gmail.com and if it’s spot on or good enough, you’ll see it in an upcoming post (with your name in “da credits”) and you can brag to all your friends how you showed up on a no-name blog written by somebody who nobody really knows!

Welcome to the REAL Miami

January 6th, 2010 by Jamison T. Rumpets

Heat! Sand! Ocean! Scantily-Clad Women! These are the things that people think of when they think of living life in Miami. Well I’m here to tell you that there are still also people who think that the world is flat.

Miami isn’t anything like this. I don’t know who started this clearly flawed rumor, but I would like a refund on my purchase because my life could definitely use some more scantily-clad women. People probably get this misconception of Miami from a place called “South Beach.”

I’ve only ever been there once, but as the name implies there is a beach and it is somewhere in the southern part of someplace that can exist as the southern part of something. Re-read that sentence if you didn’t quite get it because it makes perfect sense.

As I was saying, South Beach is exactly what people want from Miami. There is a beach nearby which, one would assume, has sand and an (Information still waiting to be verified) ocean. As for scantily-clad women, this information is still false.

“It’s a beach though, aren’t women wearing their super hot bathing suits?” Well, you would be right except that they aren’t wearing their bathing suits. How does this make sense? Let me repeat that for you. They would be wearing their bathing suits but they aren’t.

That’s right, I’m talking about the luscious fruit that men so frantically desire. I’m talking of course about ponchos, because unfortunately for people’s now shattered dreams it rains a lot in Miami.

When it’s not raining though, it’s what you think. Scantily-clad women as far as the eye can see, except that you’ve now clamped them shut because the wrong women are very scantily-clad.

Don’t misunderstand me, I’m not being insensitive anything. I’m not saying, “Oh man that girl is ugly so I don’t want to see her in a bathing suit.” I’m talking about moms, moms in their late 40s. Moms who have had upwards of four to seven children within the past hour. These are not the type of women you want to be seeing while cruising for chicks, booze, or bags of fattening potato chips. These are the type of women you want to be seeing in parkas, layers upon layers of parkas. Even when they go to the hospital suffering from parka induced heat-stroke, you want to see at least a minimum of three parkas on her when she’s lying in her hospital bed.

But wait! I’m missing something aren’t I? That’s right, I mentioned something about heat at the beginning of this didn’t I? Well, that part about Miami is painstakingly true. It is hot in Miami, it is very hot. It is hot as fuck.

When it comes to Miami though, there’s one thing you can take comfort in. If you haven’t heard, people in Miami are dumb. When I say that, you are probably imagining a dumb person in your head. What I need you to do is imagine a person who is eight to ten times dumber than your idea of a dumb person, and then multiply that by eighty. That’s how dumb people in Miami are.

Most of this idiocy is transported directly into Miami’s driving skills. People are shitty drivers here, and it has everything to do without how dumb (and ignorantly arrogant) everyone is here. Stop signs mean a very specific thing (To stop). In Miami, the word “STOP” means a completely different thing. It means “put the pedal to the metal”, it means “GO, GO, GO”, it means do everything in the world except for the very action of stopping.

This is just a look into what Miami really is, and I wholeheartedly apologize for crushing your naive Miami-based dreams. However, if you were to donate some money you could be the one to put some parkas on those mothers.

So it Turns Out the Holidays are Further Down the Block

December 15th, 2009 by Jamison T. Rumpets

Continuing with Jamison’s Braptastic Trumpetmas Exbrapaganza we feel it’s time to think about that special someone in your life. It’s almost time for you to sit around the tree, hand each other the special gifts you bought each other, open them up, and immediately ask for the receipt.

Odds are, however, that you want to avoid having to return that awful sweater you just got. Your significant other is already burning the present you got them, and Trumpetmas is over with both of you having split up. You’re sick  of this happening every time, you want some continuity in your life, you want to be able  to hold a girl/boyfriend for more than 4 fucking weeks.

Let Jamison Trumpets inform you on fantastic gift ideas to set that romantic mood that you’re aiming for. You know what I’m talking about, right? The kind of gift that when s/he opens it the room immediately transforms (in true Transformers style) into a sexy bedroom with the tacky heart-shaped bed and some Barry White playing on the stereo that you clearly do not own.

Foolproof Gift Idea #1: Dieting Books

Nothing says “I love you” more than the very non-subtle message that you feel the forklift being used to carry her around the house is making it hard to watch the big game. Getting her some dieting books will give her the inspiration she needs to chase you down and beat you with a week old baguette, and the exercise she gets will make the fat drop off her like burnt wax off of a lit candle.

Don’t worry, once she catches you she won’t be fat enough to eat you anymore so you won’t have to worry about that. I’d worry about the butcher knife she now holds in her hand. Ha Ha! Don’t worry, I bet she doesn’t want both your arms.

Foolproof Gift Idea #2: A new girlfriend

Never mind how you got her in that tiny box you handed to her, she’ll be ecstatic to see that you have a new girlfriend because she’s probably still mad about your fantastic birthday gift idea of a ladel. If you’re really lucky she’ll have already left you before Trumpetmas began!

Be careful though, you might get that girlfriend who wouldn’t find it very classy to give her a new girlfriend. After all, what’s she going to do with that dead body you just gave her considering you’ve had that present under the tree since December 3rd? No wonder the house smelled so bad!

Foolproof Gift Idea #3: Dirt

It’s dirt

What else could you ask for this Trumpetmas? Good will towards men? Too bad, looks like Sears is all out of good will towards men I’m afraid! You’ll have to settle with mild discontent towards men.

That concludes this edition of Jamison’s Braptastic Trumpetmas Exbrapaganza. Keep updated with us as  we present to you more fantastic gift ideas this holiday!

The Holidays are Around the Corner…

December 14th, 2009 by Jamison T. Rumpets

It’s the holidays and you’re probably trying to buy presents for all of those people in your life that you love from the bottom of your heart. You are also probably buying presents for your family, so you’ll probably want to try and get them something too.

Let’s be honest though, you’ve been searching for days on end trying to find that perfect gift that’ll make them not threaten lawsuits when revealed. JamisonTrumpets.com is here to let you know that we have just the gift for this Holiday season.

Jamison Trumpets proudly presents this year’s Jamison’s Braptastic Trumpetmas Exbrapaganza.

This holiday’s first gift idea is the No More Heroes/Red Steel Bundle.

There are many reasons we’ve suggested this braptastic bundle. The first and foremost reason being that No More Heroes is an excellent game that every Wii owner should have. It’s combined use of excellent, innovative gameplay and fantastic visual style the game is a must-have. For more information on this fantastic game, fucking google it.

You’re probably wondering about the other game with the bundle. “Red Steel? Isn’t that game awful?” The answer is, of course, yes. That’s not you get this bundle though. Red Steel has many uses outside of just sticking in your Wii and playing it. Let Jamison Trumpets show just some of what you can do with this fantastic circular disc.

#1 Red Steel Ultimate Frisbee League

Let’s face it, you’ve probably been around a college campus or the park and seen a bunch of guys (with a percent chance of bros) throwing their frisbee around. We’re here to tell you to stop living a boring one track life and think outside the box. Walk up to those guys playing frisbee, grab the frisbee, and break that shit in half. Make sure that while they are beating the fuck out of you, you mention that you’ll find them a replacement frisbee, a better one.

This is where you present the idea of the Red Steel Ultimate Frisbee League. Come back to the group of frisbee enthusiasts, present your prized frisbee, and get the league started. Make sure that the winning team all recevies copies of No More Heroes! We here at Jamison Trumpets have no problem shamelessly advertising games we like!

#2 Coaster

Let’s face it, while you are playing No More Heroes you’re going to get thirsty. You bring back your cup filled with Dr. Pepper and you suddenly realize you’re in quite the predicament: where the fuck are you going to put your drink? To avoid putting moisture rings on the table, you’ll need a coaster. Unfortunately, your house hasn’t seen a coaster since the Great Coaster War of 1998.

This is where your copy of Red Steel comes in. Red Steel is just the right size and shape to be used as your drink coaster, and as such you can put that game to good use as such.

#3 Hockey Puck

Let me tell you what I think o f hockey. I fucking hate hockey. “Fuck hockey” is something I often say to the priest at my church before being thrown out for drinking all the wine. It’s a boring sport and it’s not that interesting. However, using Red Steel as a hockey puck is something I wholeheartedly approve.

Let’s be clear about this though. I don’t approve of hockey, I simply approve on beating Red Steel with large sticks.

#4 Ninja Star

Red Steel isn’t jagged, pointed, or sharp in any way. This doesn’t change the fact that it can be used as an effective ninja star. While odds are that the person getting hit will not be physically injured in any way, the emotional trauma they will suffer after having just received a copy of Red Steel will be enough to scar them for the rest of their life.

To counteract the trauma and social ostracization you can direct that person to this article so they can find uses for their new copy of Red Steel. Obviously if you aren’t too fond of the person, you can always suggest that they play the game on their Wii.

#5 Telescope

You’ve always wondered what was in the great beyond. Stars, planets, galaxies, the universe is yours for the taking. There’s a problem though, how can you see all those things when they are so itty-bitty when you look up at the night sky. Look no further Captain Kirk, Red Steel is here to provide telescopic sustenance.

Using Red Steel as a telescope, you can look up at the night sky and see the stars. Rumors have been surging around the internet that suggest that if you squint hard enough, you can even see the moon at night. The Hubble Space Telescope? That’s baby shit compared to Red Steel’s telescopic power.

Well there you have it, that’s the first gift suggestion of Jamison’s Braptastic Trumpetmas Exbrapaganza. Stay tuned as we suggest more gifts before the holidays are over!

S.O.S. - Reasons why you won’t be seeing me

December 5th, 2009 by Jamison T. Rumpets

So I’ve returned home and for reasons I’m not going to go into detail about, I don’t have a computer to keep ol’ Jamison Trumpets as active as I would like.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ll try and get a good blog post every now and then but I don’t have a computer to do any blogging. For that matter, I don’t have a computer to do anything interesting.

This may sadden some of you, but there’s nothing I can do about it. You’ll have to make due without me for a couple weeks, months, maybe longer. Who knows at this point.

With holiday braps,

Jamison T. Rumpets (Daniel Rivera)

New Species Discovered: Wolfpires

November 20th, 2009 by Jamison T. Rumpets

Jamison was hard at work in his office just last night when suddenly an anonymous phone call came in. Of course, this was very suspicious so just to be sure we recorded the conversation. Here is a transcript of the conversation:

Jamison Trumpets: *brap*?
Anonymous Phone Caller: I have some information that may interest you.
JT: *brap*
APC: Your recent article on John Donahue and his love for vampires has brought about something bigger than you thought.
JT: *brap*
APC: I know what you’re thinking, but this information is legit.
JT: *brap*
APC: How can you trust me? Don’t I sound trustworthy?
JT: *brap*
APC: Well I don’t see how she has anything to do with this…
JT: *brap*
APC: Well…I suppose…
JT: *brap*
APC: Low blow man…low blow…
JT:
APC: Since you seem so eager to get this information, how about we work out a deal? How’s $100 for this information sound?
JT: *brap*
APC: How is that unreasonable?
JT: *brap*
APC: But I enjoy my kneecaps…
JT: *brap*
APC: Fine, fine, fine! How about I lower it to $75?
JT: …..*brap*
APC: Well no, I’m not particularly fond of dying…
JT: *brap*
APC: Ok! Fine! You win! $25!
JT: *brap*
APC: You still won’t take that!? What else do you want? I’m not giving this away for free you know!
JT: *brap*
APC: Oh…well I guess that technically isn’t free… though I don’t see how me paying you 20 dollars for this information that I have is in any way fair.
JT: *brap*
APC: You’re more informed than I thought… I thought nobody knew about my love for antique toilets. I’ll give you the 20 dollars later…do you want this information?
JT: *brap*!
APC: The John Donahue story has brought to light something even more disconcerting. You thought he was only delving into the forbidden fruit that is vampires, when you couldn’t be more wrong. Not only is he into vampires, he’s into werewolves as well.
JT: *brap*?
APC: I’m not lying! I have photographic evidence! The man we knew as John Donahue is no longer a human…at this point he must have evolved into a new species: the wolfpire.
JT: *brap*
APC: I know it sounds ridiculous, I know! But listen, you need to check your e-mail. I’ve sent you the photograph on there, I expect you to expose the wolfpires for what they really are: a bunch of big gay neenies.
JT: *brap*
APC: I’m not a wolfpire.
JT: *brap*
APC: No really, I swear I’m not a wolfpire.
JT: *brap*
APC: Fine I’m a wolfpire. Except not really.
JT: *brap*
APC: Fuck you.

CALL ENDED

The conversation was suspicious certainly, but the facts check out. John Donahue has ascended to wolfpirehood, that is to say he is both a werewolf and a vampire. His status as a human is long since lost and such should be considered extremely dangerous! If he offers to check your neck for any cancerous moles or offers you a moonlit stroll on the beach, JUST SAY NO! Alternately, you can Stop, Drop, and Roll to safety. Wolfpires have been known to find this action confusing, and as such you have ample time to flee.

To prove that Donahue has achieved this special status, we present to you the conclusive evidence that he’s delving into what other wolfpires would refer to as “sweet, delicious, werewolf lovin’”.

K-I-S-S-I-N-G

K-I-S-S-I-N-G

You see this filth? This news writes itself, John is no longer safe to be with. You see the flash drive in his hands? It’s not holding school data as we once thought, it’s in fact holding the love letters sent between him and Jacob during his night class on Tuesdays. You may be thinking we know a little bit too much about John, but that’s our job as a news reporter. We must report the facts, even if they can sound stalkerish and creepy.

To give you a little understanding on how Wolfpires make sense, let’s have a little explanation. First, Wolfpires originate from the two words: Werewolf and Empire State Building. The reason for the latter is because vampires love tall buildings. John has spent time with both Edward and Jacob, and as such his DNA structure has changed entirely. He no longer has innocent thoughts of becoming an astronaut, or of dressing up like Batman and masquerading around town in a hilarious montage.

Instead, John now spends his time daydreaming of wearing dark cloaks and his fake vampire teeth (until he grows his own pair of course) and sneaking up on Edward and Jacob to play “innocent” pranks on them. All of these pranks almost always end with vulgar results. That’s right, you guessed it: they begin to do each others taxes. It’s sickening really (Taxes that is. I guess vampires too.), having to watch them sit there with their graphing calculators.

After spending time with Edward, John will sneak out and go to his favorite spot in the woods to meet up with his love on the side, Jacob. Once there, John gives Jacob legal advice. This is just gross, and as such I will not go into further detail.

Now that I’ve exposed John for what he really is, you may be worried that us here at the Times will be in danger ourselves of the oncoming onslaught of wolfpires. That’s ok though, because we have knowledge of a wolfpire’s one weakness: not giving them a high five.

That’s right, wolfpires are desperate for high fives, to the point where they will whore themselves out just to get a high five. Odds are if you’ve ever purchased a “street walker” (which we here at the Times certainly do not condone, especially on the corner of 24th and Palm) and she/he asks you for a high five right after they are probably a wolfpire and as a result you should run the fuck away.

After all, if you don’t they might start doing your taxes.

Breaking News

November 17th, 2009 by Jamison T. Rumpets
BREAKING NEWS

The photograph I am about to present to you has not been doctored in any way and is absolutely the truth. There is no way a person like me would lie about a person like John.

The other day while searching through my John H. Donahue file, I noticed a certain inconsistency with his schedule. I realized he would time away from friends and classes to visit a “secret location” and spend time with a “secret mythological creature.”

I know what you’re thinking. “Unicorns! I love unicorns!” I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I can only wish to myself that John was spending secret time with unicorns. Unfortunately, it is the complete opposite.

John Huevos Donahue during the months of July through the present time has been spending some “quality time” with the one and only, the infamous, the all-around well hated vampire known as:

Donald Trump.

Wait, no that’s not right. I meant to say Edward “Salad-Man” Cullen. That’s right! The John Donahue who you thought absolutely denied enjoying Twilight has been spending secret time admiring what John calls the “perfectly chiseled vampire cheekbones” of Edward “Stalkin’-Man” Cullen.

I know what you’re thinking. “John? And Edward ‘Egg Crack’r’ Cullen? There’s no way! I thought John loved ‘da ladies.’” It surprised me as well, but photographs do not lie and the photograph I am about to show you will prove my claims.

Without further ado, I give you the aforementioned “undeniable proof” as it were. I would warn you that small children may find this highly offensive and should be instructed to look away.

This is science fact.

This is science fact.

You see now, the hypocrisy that is seething out of John’s pores is palpable. You think he hates Twilight? To the contrary my enlightened friend, he absolutely adores Twilight.

Well, sort of. You see, it seems that John’s affair with Edward “Lite Brite” Cullen has created an awkward love triangle between John, Bella, and Edward “Nega-Man” Cullen.

How does John feel about this? Why not ask him yourself? When I asked John about this love triangle he replied with:

“What? What are you talking about, there is no love triangle because I don’t like Edward or Twilight.”

I know what you’re thinking. “Methinks thou dost protest too much.” I agree, and as such this is even further proof.

The likelihood of this rumor being true? 582.33% repeating. John’s “late-night escapades” with the sparklin’ spazman himself have, fortunately for the future of the “Jamison Trumpet Times”,brought about a new line of questions.

The first being whether or not John appreciates the sparkling nature of Edward “Doubles-As-A-Vegas-Light-Show” Cullen. Does John even see this sparkling behemoth during the day? Evidence of such hasn’t been found, but thanks to our research department we are working hard to find evidence on that matter.

The second question that is brought up is now that John’s secret has been exposed, will he admit that he has been found out or will he viciously deny the blatant truth before us all. We speculate that John will deny all claims that he has been discovered and will threaten to light many a person on fire.

Will he set you on fire? It’s possible, after all the vibrant and shining lights from the fire may remind him most of his precious Edward “What’s-My-Line-Again?” Cullen.

As we wrap up this shocking development of John and his deep dark sparkling secrets, we must warn all readers that if you are to bring up this subject with John be prepared to have many a word sworn at you and many a fist threatened to your person.

We advise that all people ready to bring up the topic with him should bring a picture of his nighttime sweetheart, Edward “What’s-Character-Development” Cullen. The chiseled cheekbones of the one he admires most may calm him down and make him a docile, innocent creature.

Convenience and Escalators

October 20th, 2009 by Jamison T. Rumpets

I live in Chicago at the moment (for school, normally I’m in Miami). Part of living in Chicago means having to use their public transportation. I’m not going to write a blog post about Chicago’s public transportation, that would probably take several pages of internet that I don’t have.

What I’m going to be talking about is escalators, and by association elevators, and the pricks who ride them. When I see an escalator, I see (no frontin’) the word “CONVENIENCE” labeled right over it. Escalators are meant to stand on and they push you upwards (or downwards) free of charge, that is to say you don’t have to do any actual exercise to get up.

This notion, however, is far gone to some people. When people see escalators, they don’t see something that depicts laziness and convenience, they see rocket steps. When they get on an escalator, they shoot up those goddamn stairs as if their life depended on it. Stairs? Fuck stairs, escalators are super stairs motherfucker. They want to incorporate the convenience of escalators with the exercise of stairs.

This is something I can get on board with. If you do this, by all means keeping rocketing up those stairs. Me? That isn’t my scene. When I see an escalator, I stand still and let it glide me to the heavens (also known as the end destination of the escalator).

So you might be asking (you’re definitely asking this, disputing me is useless I can read your mind), “What happens when these two views of escalator usage clash?” I’ll tell you what happens; what happens is I get Jason Fucking Stavin’ Angry. When I’m standing on an escalator and letting it just take its course while I think of stomping puppies, I don’t want to hear some jackass behind me going, “GOD WALK UP THE ESCALATOR STEPS PLEASE SOME OF US ARE IN A HURRY.”

Some of us (mainly me) are not in hurry motherfucker, so I could give two shits about your goddamn hurry.

The same thing happens to me with elevators. If you haven’t figured it out (actually, if you really haven’t maybe you should stop reading cause you’re fucking stupid) I’m a lazy person. So if I want to get to the 2nd floor, and I am given an elevator to use; I’m going to use the elevator. It’s encouraged that I use the stairs, but it’s also encouraged that I don’t kick puppies and you don’t see me not doing that (For what it is worth, I don’t actually kick or stomp puppies, unless they aren’t barking or playing ball).

I will get in that elevator, I will hit the number 2, and I will get off and say “fuck ya’ll” if you give me a dirty look. Alternately, I’ll get my ass kicked by angry turbo stair users.

Now See Here Whippahsnappah…

October 3rd, 2009 by Jamison T. Rumpets

Whippersnapper is a word commonly used by old people to refer to young people that are, purportedly, “on their lawn” or “ruining their begonias.” Why am I even telling you this? Because yesterday, while in my dorm, I got into a row with a guy (I’m a college student, so of course he is in fact a college student as well). The row had nothing to do with anything important, I simply got the last bag of chips that he wanted.

Anyway, short story even shorter, he called me a faggot. I’m used to this as I call people faggots all the time, so it’s not hard to imagine what being called one is like. I told him that I’m sorry but I got there first, blah blah blah, I was super polite.

He then said this exact phrase, and I assure you I am not shitting you:

“Stupid whippahsnappahs taking my fuckin’ bags uh’ chips.”

I was in disbelief because I couldn’t really believe he called me a whippersnapper. Nobody in their right mind calls another fellow college student a whippersnapper. Hell, the whippersnapper phase is making its way out for old people even. If you were to go to an old person and say the word whippersnapper they would most definitely say, “Whippersnapper? What are you some sort of faggot (fagget)?”

This also verifies my theory that old people are getting cooler and cooler as time passes.

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