• Posts tagged "Mapoo"

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Boy and his Blob

More than any other story in recent weeks, the news that Boy and His Blob is being reimagined has gotten me on tenterhooks. I honestly don’t know how well known this game is but to me and my brother it conjures up fond memories of our youth and the times spent with our beloved NES.

In a nutshell, you, the boy, had to escort your friend, the blob, to his home world of Blobolonia through an underground labyrinth. On the way jellybeans are used to turn blob into useful items such as ladders and trampolines to make up for the boys shocking lack of platforming skills, allowing them access to new areas of the map and reach key objects. Quite what happens when you reached Blobolonia I couldn’t really tell you, we never had the skills to get past the first couple of screens.

The blob turning his hand to being a bridge. He was very helpful.

Looking back, I’m sure it was a very brutal game. The boy seemed to die when falling from all but the shortest of heights, one hits kills were everywhere, checkpoints weren’t invented yet and there weren’t even any passwords to start you at a later stage; every time you turned the game on you’d start from your mum’s house and know that you had an awfully long road ahead of you. And yet I still think of it with rose tinted spectacles. Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t the lost Citizen Kane of videogaming, but I have such happy memories of throwing jellybeans to my blob that even if I was presented with a series of reviews declaring it worse than Superman 64 I would brand them all blasphemous.

The only downside, it’s coming to the Wii. Although, to see Blobert one more time it might just return from its corner in the loft.

Does anyone else remember this game?

Did you just kart?

So today is the day. Mario Kart is out in the UK and as soon as I finishing typing this post I’m off to purchase what maybe the penultimate hope (the final one being Smash Brothers Brawl) that my Wii will not just become a dedicated BBCi player.

Come on Luigi, run him off the road!

I sense once again I have started this out as a Wii-bashing post but I’m only harsh on it because I want what’s best for they system. I really loved the SNES and DS versions of the same game and I am hoping beyond hope that it is going to spark my waggle sticks back into action.

My brother has already got his hands on it thanks to a friendly source, and seems to be enjoying it even if it still frustrates every living being with its range of powerups that keep causing the standings to be somewhat of a lottery.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

Trophy Thomas

I am known by many names – JT, BIGsheep, occasionally even James – but during my time at work I have somehow earned the tag of Trophy Thomas. This may have something to do with my overly competitive nature and my magpie-esque love for anything shiny and cup-like, but who’s to say.

Whatever the truth, one of my boyhood dreams came true at Memorabilia yesterday as I got to lift the FA Cup: the greatest trophy of them all. Given Spurs’ attachment to the competition over the years I almost wet myself at the chance to hold it aloft, shunning the more disappointing European Cup standing right to its side.

So. Very. Happy.

Just look at that grin; I could not have been happier.

With the exception that my blue had faded for the show, that really was the highlight for me and possibly the best money I’ve ever spent in my life; the only thing that could top that for me would be actually walking out at White Hart Lane wearing Lillywhite.

Suicide is painful

One of the greatest pieces of tech that is included in Halo 3 (yes, we’re on about that, again) is the replay theatre and the ability to capture superb moments of skill and daring to share with your friends.

 What it can also do, however, is capture the painful and humiliating episodes that everyone has when things just aren’t going their way.

 Please, please, please, can I recommend to you this clip of my brother Mapoo and his extraordinary suicide.

Watch it. Laugh at it. And then watch it again for sheer “how the hell did he do that” of it all.