Color a Dinosaur (NES) review
"Hi there, it's me, the grumpy old veteran gamer, using another medium to express my hatred towards the state of games post-1983. You know me, I'm the guy who goes to Goodwill when he wants a new game. I am wired on Vicodin during the day to treat my Carpal Tunnel-effected wrists. At night I can be found using my laptop, sprawled out on my bed because of a sudden urge to start a bidding war with some punk who will not lose the auction for a pristine Beta copy of Zork. Because it is an auth..."
Hi there, it's me, the grumpy old veteran gamer, using another medium to express my hatred towards the state of games post-1983. You know me, I'm the guy who goes to Goodwill when he wants a new game. I am wired on Vicodin during the day to treat my Carpal Tunnel-effected wrists. At night I can be found using my laptop, sprawled out on my bed because of a sudden urge to start a bidding war with some punk who will not lose the auction for a pristine Beta copy of Zork. Because it is an authentic Beta copy, stained with Nolan Bushnell's blood and autographed by Moses, merely owning it will suffice as a statement of rebellion. The computer I have is roughly eleven quadrillion times more powerful than a computer designed to run Zork-level programs, anyway. I also found out recently that it got quite warm on its underside from time to time. My annual sperm count comes up a little low, and the doctor tells me I'll be shooting blanks for the rest of my life.
Well, Go!@#$!ed if I didn't just punch that dick doctor in the fucking face! Everyone knows about my lifelong goal, to father two boys with Tia Carrere. I demanded that he use actual science, and shit, you know. Grr, anyway, I actually just sat there and fumed, and my face got kinda red and I gritted my teeth a lot. As usual. So my buzz was harshened to the point where nothing short of harassing kids at the arcade would redeem my shit day. I did my usual schtick, hogging the Gauntlet machine, and occasionally hosing down some middle-school-aged losers in Marvel Vs. Capcom. I used to mash with the best of them. I can still fly like a pro in Joust, but it means a double dose of Vicodin, chased slightly by a quarter-flagon of spiced rum. I've found that I prefer the Dark Ages method of measurement, that seems to make my intake appear smaller.
On the way home I stopped at the pawn shop and saw that someone had sold their NES along with an assortment of games, among them a trio of equally good titles: Metal Gear, Ikari Warriors, and the subject of this evening's scrutiny, Color a Dinosaur. I was surely not going to buy something a wetback might have stolen from his grandfather to buy bigger wheels for their car, but I was sure tempted to lecture to the old man tending the store last night. Children's games serve no purpose other than to be made fun of by people far too old to enjoy them. The first game I played was Yar's Revenge; there was no developmental period for me, I had nothing but mind-numbingly intense games from day one. Not to say I'm screwed up or anything.
What the fuck is this, a game without something different blowing up every tenth of a second? Unless it's fucking hard as balls like Qix, it's not worth my time. Color A Dinosaur is designed for very young children, who just barely have the attention span necessary to color in one cartoon drawing, much less a variety of eight or so pictures of cute dinosaurs. Moreover they will not be able to recognize the murky textures (they aren't colors) they choose to fill in the white spaces. Mastering Color A Dinosaur is about as easy as mastering the art of wiping your arse in the right direction. In this light I must recommend that anyone who uses XBox Online Relay under a name like "Captain Suffering" and uses a USP headset to taunt foes may find this game too difficult to complete. I find the characters in Beat 'Em and Eat 'Em to be sexier than those in Dead or Alive, truthfully.
I grew up reading Nintendo Power, for those of you wondering how I can construct my arguments so darn skillfully.
Color A Dinosaur is a poor game. Writing more words about its failure as such would only give it more respect than it deserves. I was planning on ending my rant here but it never read as a satisfying conclusion. So, in the middle of the night, I find myself wondering why there was still some anger pent up inside me.
Oh, I remembered, I have a very short penis. In real life I cannot relate to anyone and as a surrogate social life, I attack otherwise friendly people on the Internet. If I made anyone cry, the day has been a success. Perhaps hearing the doctor tell me that my semen will no longer be capable to impregnate the biggest babe of all time only reminded me of my condition. So, there you have it. Now we all know why I'm so damn grouchy. Since the start of this paragraph I have also had several intense mood swings. I slammed my scissors through the desk nine times while I was deciding between introductions earlier tonight. Don't worry, I had a good cry over it, it's all better now.
Currently I am still a virgin, and the fact of the matter is that I will not be able to nurture my own offspring and truly make an impact on the world I live in. This classy iBook nonetheless uses a lot of juice, and makes my balls dry up like raisins. I will become sterile if I continue using the internet, and now it is a kind of sick addiction, only helping my impersonal side become more dominant. Analyzing children's video games is the kind of thing I happen to thoroughly enjoy doing, because in reality I often fantasize about saving up to buy a big van, so I can lure schoolchildren into the back with false promises of candy and other trifles.
I have been told that I am a lot like my peers, fellow bitter folk who take great pleasure in telling the truth about these kinds of games. Me and one guy were gonna review Earthbound in iambic pentameter last summer, then later I found out he was in prison for killing his mother with a Weed-Eater. He was a real nice guy. Real bitter. His reviews had real bite to 'em, they did.
That's it for today. I would like to say that these were the drugs talking, but if I said that whenever it applied, you would not believe me.
Community review by johnny_cairo (February 20, 2005)
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