At first our love was exciting like Christmas. I’d tear the celophane off a new game in sweet anticipation and slip a hot new disk in her ready, waiting drive - it was magic. For hours we’d play and play, my hands deftly working all of her buttons. Our scores and achievements were the stuff of legends. Then one day, she didn’t say a word - just three red lights. I know a Dear John letter when I see it. I’m sorry! Why do you have to leave me, 360? Wasn’t your place of honor on my entertainment center good enough? I can change, baby - Look, I’ll only play first party titles, I promise. Do you want more DVD play time? That crappy little Samsung player meant nothing to me, baby. She was just $60 at Target, I just couldn’t pass it up? I could only use you so much. Damn you, I’ll never love another console again…

He pays us fat stacks of cash, you know. Yup, he sure does - and the Easter Bunny is our sound engineer, and Santa Claus updates the website and seriously - when are people going to stop blaming mythical entities for shit? I mean OK, I acknowledge that there is still some room for debate on how the Universe works, and whether there is some kind of higher being at work, but can we at least all come together on the idea that there are no magical freaking monsters that whisper in our ears and make us do terrible things? I mean, damn. Anywhosie - welcome to another glorious episode of Geekmethod! We have summer movie news, free software, do it yourself guides, wacky news, and fun new gadgets. Seriously, though - if you think the devil talks to you, stop having babies. Pretty please. With sugar on top. Kthxbye.

I want to make sure everyone understands that we don’t find suicide funny as a concept - but suicide by chainsaw is on a whole other plateau of comedy. I know you’re sitting there in your little ivory tower of you know, morals, tut-tutting at our adolescent glee for heads-a-poppin’ - but you know what - if that guy had jumped off a building in a flaming clown suit, you’d be laughing. Don’t lie. There is a fine line between horror and comedy, and I’ll have you know we straddle that line with aplomb, my friends. OH YEAH, APLOMB. So besides suicide and borderline retarded teenagers shooting themselves in the guts, I think this was a remarkably positive and upbeat show. We answer some workplace advice with sound and sage-like wisdom. We’ve got gear news, movie news, and creepy stories about how swingers tried to pick me up on Craigslist. Enjoy!

Why is it so much harder to be productive on a Sunday? Sunday is for sleeping late, making a huge breakfast, and then lounging. I’m not saying that podcasting is a strenuous activity by any means, but it takes a certain enthusiasm. Man - Enthusiasm is totally nowhere to be found on Sunday. Enthusiasm does not hang out with Sundays. He flirts with Tuesday, and you can always see him out with Friday and Saturday (tramps), but he wants nothing to do with Sunday. Sunday is too plain-jane for Enthusiasm. Sunday likes thrift shopping and watching lots of TV while eating ice cream. Sunday has a big ol’ ass and just don’t give a fuck. Case in point - Enthusiasm was not so much with us in this episode, which was recorded on Sunday.