Every once is a while it's healthy to have one's spelling ability tested. It's sort of like going back to high school minus all that clique-ish, cafeteria-style segregation or Mean Girls-inspired hatred. Helping us leave the high school years where they should be, Odwalla and game show champ Ken Jennings have partnered to create Be Soy Smart, a spelling bee site that tests ones spelling metal. We particularly like the tiny disclaimer at the bottom of the site which reads, "We're not saying Soy Smart will make you smarter, but it's a smart choice for vegetarian soy protein and Omega-3 DHA, an important brain component."
Miller had Man Laws. Dial's got something different. If you're a man who's sick of all that metrosexual crap, is happy with your ape-like body hair and took a pass on the Philips Body Groomer, Dial has something for you, the Man Luge. It's simple. All you have to do is to avoid all the female-ish objects as you slide down the luge to total, complete manhood. And after you finish, you'll likely need a shower and Dial is there to help with its Ultimate Clean hair and body soap. Nifty.
Scavenging snippets of nostalgia, scribble, arbitrary Flash and profound gibberish, Game, Game, Game and Again Game is a strange visit to what life must be like at the intersection between broadcasting airwaves and media-laced stream-of-thought.
Created by evil genius Jason Nelson of Hermeticon, the sensory digital plaything leverages a player's ability to pick knowledge up quickly and put it together. And while little makes sense, the collective information keeps you moving from level to level and may even spark inexplicable emotional reactions. The format and your feelings are all about as logical as identity construction via media consumption, a strange occupation that may drive whole cities to commercial bulimia.
We showed the game to a few friends who later told us we were psychotic media-tards. But several small children got it right away and laughed out loud in all the appropriate places (there aren't any). We think that means the game is good.
The ending is a sight worth seeing. It might just change your life. Or not. Go play already! (And make sure your sound is up.)
We clicked. We waited. We clicked. We waited. We saw the guy scream. We clicked. We waited. We saw the tree. We clicked. We waited. We waited. We waited. We...oh just go experience it for yourself. Really. Trust us. You'll love it. Compliments of Weiden + Kennedy for Electronic Arts' Burnout Dominator. Obviously Firefox 2.0 doesn't like this site. Oh wait. It's supposed to do nothing. Right?
With the help of Sugartown Creative, Penthouse Magazine releases My Pleasure Pet, an online gaming experience that brings Subservient Chicken back to its pulpy webcam roots. Sugartown co-president and creative director Fritz Westenberger also makes his directorial debut shooting the game's footage of Heather Vandeven, the Penthouse Pet of the Year.
Unfortunately there are no widgets for this one, although we thought that would be the next natural step. The object of the game is to keep the luscious Heather appeased by asking her to perform certain tasks; her unhappiness could create undesirable consequences (like her complete disinterest in your existence).
You know what would be awesome? A subservient creative department douchebag.
Let's forget for a minute that the CGM wave is so last February. If Mr. Clean wanted to personify cleaning house, we'd think they'd use that big bald burly dude already featured on all their creative instead of haphazardly throwing an Oompa-Loompa at us from left field.
While we mentally rejected the idea of an Oompa-Loompa creeping around cleaning shit (they are very naughty, after all), we liked the screaming ADD-ridden kid. And if you can somehow top Mr. Clean on the weird video scale, you could win $10,000. Lookie, they even made the contest name rhyme: Make a Scene with Mr. Clean. How whimsical.
It's a fair statement for us to say, for the most part, we've never found an online game we've really liked. In an odd and twisty bit of word play for us, a game called I Never has become an online game we really do like. Created by Kansas City-based Sullivan Higdon & Sink for Houlihan Restaurants, I Never is a drinking game (well, a virtual one in this case) where one person asks another ten questions and it spirals from there.
SHS's John January explains, saying, "Players can invite their friends to play I Never and can choose from questions we wrote or questions they make up themselves. Following on the heels of this email will be an invitation to play the game. Each time one of us chooses to submit answers the rest of us will be notified. You can wait for a couple of people to answer or you can watch as each person answers. Whatever floats your boat. The stories are optional but they make the game better."
The moment we heard somebody actually made money on Second Life, we knew it was only a matter of time before the smut trades came barging in, followed by regulations galore.
Linden Lab cracks down on casinos, and a source tells us their stock market's pretty much gone to bust.
Second Life is starting to sound a lot like first life. Nix the laggage and cool costumes, of course. The debate over which is actually worth living remains a personal preference.
Inspired by the menagerie of ad-smothered games, someone took it upon himself to go, "By gad - we should make ad games for advertisers!" This dangerous stream of thought yielded the PROMO Marketer's Challenge, a drably-coloured trivia challenge on the ad industry -- complete, of course, with ads.
The purpose of the game is to get talk out about PROMO magazine, which covers promotions and integrated marketing and is prepping for a relaunch. Redesign teasers are interspersed not-so-subtly throughout; in fact, we've played enough times to merit a free subscription CPM-wise. Are you listening, PROMO? Your SPREADS are engraved behind our EYELIDS.
The sad horse at left is the fruit of a Mentos Gum campaign that brings literal meaning to "pop art," leveraging the delicious feeling we get when we poke holes through bubble wrap - or, in this case, gum out of tinfoil.
We dragged our cursor around for awhile before artistic inclination failed us. An Adrants reader notes, and we agree, that it leaves one wanting for a satisfying noise. Although granted the sound of tearing tinfoil is not as exciting as a momentous bubble wrap pop.