Thursday nights. God, I hate Thursday nights. Thursday night is "video game night", wherein the BF and his friends all get together and act like retarded 12-year-olds on Xbox. More importantly, I'm not supposed to "waste bandwidth" because the BF, being the only homo and thus married to a man, was the only one able to talk his partner into
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It took all of my power not to laugh.
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Still, I use the fact that the BF largely ignores me to great effect. If I leave the room, I'm always sure to tell him something like "I'll be in the other room, firing my man cannon." Such jokes are somehow more fun when the recipient is completely oblivious to your existence.
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And according to Kotaku, that is indeed the real name of the thing.
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Apparently, some of the grenades stick to people. I know this because there's a little running ticker that shows who killed whom in the face. It identifies certain types of kills, and many of them are rife with homoerotic double entendres--my favorite being "So-and-So stuck so-and-so". After laughing at this several times, I had it explained to me that the grenades stick. Or something.
"Whatever," says I, "You're the one who keeps getting stuck by big hairy men."
The fact that you can use your man cannon to stick someone, which I didn't know, is over the top. You can bet I'll be screaming "stick him with the man cannon!" next Thursday.
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I'm thinking something from a musical. "ONE DAY MORE!" Or "GOTTA DANCE!"
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There's video.
Alas, I can't figure out how to export it out of Xbox Live. But it is pretty priceless. It's like a Busby Berkeley number, only with lots of little Halo guys. And a man cannon.
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