CatScraps

eBay Auction -- Item Number: 120678709366 Start your Super Bowl off right with a little:

Chapter 8 Several weeks have passed. Tom sits in his dimly lit dorm room. His eyes scan the digicenter for the time: 5:40 P.M. He feels slightly sick, his bones weak. His wrists feel numb. He wishes he could disconnect his hands from them. If it could free him. In his mind he screams. There is nothing to be desired. He has already looked upon the face of God. Or is it just that he cannot decide? Paralyzed, no movement of the body but no peace of mind. Only scratching and screaming. The darkness is coming down again. Like the flick of a switch, the heavy veil casts its shadow upon all his thoughts and perceptions. There is a small fire burning in the center of his chest. Here where old Light once sat a false light burns. The animal hatred reigns. Let it come upon you and have its way with you. Biting flesh. His head is on fire. Sweat and rage. He wants to kill his family. He wants to kill his roommate. Sit there. Sit with it. Watch the tiny snake, the size of pinpoint, squirming through the wood in the floor. Bite. Bite. You feel the wounds of Christ. You are my stinking flower. Pleasure – beast – pain – rebirth. You’ve destroyed your religion, you’ve destroyed your mind. He glances at the clock: 5:50 P.M. as the digits crack. A shattered diamond. Hear me backwards: Raul med sin. Climb. Wire. Belt. Symbol. Crack. Shatter. High. Get up on the bed. Worship me. Worship me. “Tom?! Are you ok, man?!” His roommate Chris interrupts. “You look pretty sick, dude. Maybe we should call someone…” “FUCK OFF! GET AWAY FUCKER!” Tom snarls. “Alright, man, I was just going to ask you to come out to the bar...Jeeze...what’s up your ass?” “YOUR FUCKING MOTHER’S CUNT!” he screams. “Dude, you really need to relax. I’m leaving. Fuck off.” Tom just sits there growling, occasionally barking, biting the flesh off his lower lip, causing it to bleed into his mouth. “Piss, fuck, cunt,” he grumbles softly.

The state of Maryland has been writing the popular “Ask Maryland” column for PARADE since 1990. Maryland is listed in the Guinness Book of World Records as the 9th smallest state. Dear Maryland, My 18 year old son was charged with underage drinking and drug possession while vacationing with his friends in Ocean City, MD during Senior Week. Is there any way we can just pay the fine? We live in Jim Thorpe, Pennsylvania and it’s a 4 hour drive to Worcester County District Court. Our son is very sorry for what he did and we just want to put this incident behind us. Anonymous, Jim Thorpe, PA Dear reader, I feel for you and your family in this difficult time. Unfortunately, Worcester County’s policy is that your son must appear in court on the designated date. Failure to appear in court will result in a bench warrant for your son’s arrest. This is a felony and if caught he would face jail time. While you’re here, be sure to check out Paul Revere’s Smorgasbord on 2nd and Boardwalk. It’s great American food at an affordable price! Dear Maryland, One family leaves Jim Thorpe, Pennsylvania at 4:00 A.M. on Tuesday morning, a second family leaves Jim Thorpe, Pennsylvania at 10:00 A.M. on Monday morning. Both families have 18 year old sons who must appear in Worcester County District Court at 8:00 A.M. Tuesday morning for underage drinking and drug possession charges. Both families must travel 225 miles. The first family travels at a speed of 75 mph and stops for 10 minutes at McDonald’s for breakfast. The second family travels at a speed of 65 mph and stops for 1 hour for lunch at Friendly’s. The second family eats dinner Monday night at Paul Revere’s Smorgasbord and stays the night in a hotel. Both families plan to meet outside of the courthouse no later than 7:30 A.M. Tuesday morning. The second family’s hotel is 14 miles from the courthouse. The road from the hotel to the courthouse has a speed limit of 35 mph. It takes the second family 1 hour to get ready in the morning. What time should the second family’s son wake up on Tuesday morning so that both families arrive at the courthouse at the same time? Scott Wein, Jim Thorpe, PA Can you figure this one out readers? It’s NOT a trick question. Just take your time and work it out. The solution will be posted next Sunday.

Here with us tonight we have Marilyn Vos Savant, the beautiful young actress who played Mayor Elaine Walsh in the recent film E.T.: The Burning Inner Sun that is Lucifer’s Clock. Harry Potter: Welcome, Marilyn. Marilyn: Thank you, Harry. My pleasure. Harry: I understand you and your family just got back from a vacation in Ocean City, MD. How did that go? Beautiful tan by the way. Marilyn (laughs): Oh thank you. It was very relaxing. I did anal with Paul Revere. Harry: Oh you did? How precious. Do you like lobsters? Marilyn: Yes I like to lick and smack around lobsters. Harry: Very good. Very good. Now let’s talk about the AtariAge forums. Marilyn: My pleasure. I post on the AtariAge forums under the name Random Terrain. Harry: Very good then. Do you like pee pee and poo poo jokes? Marilyn: Yes I do. Please tell me one. Harry: A man walks up to a beautiful temptress named Iodine. He puts on three belt buckle hats. One is named Art Decco, one is named Art Rico, and one is Pee Pee Poo Poo! Marilyn: Ho ho ho ho!!! The sky is falling, the sky is falling. Harry: Here let me adjust that for you. The two begin doing social work at the YMCA. Harry: Your role as a seductive temptress must have been quite the rush. Did you give any handouts? Marilyn: Yes I give to the American Red Cross and Abortion. Harry: That’s all the time we have for tonight, coon hounds! We’ll leave the light on for ya!

Mmmmmm

The blue big brown balloons. I like to blow them up and let the air out. I like to eat lobster too. I lick that shit.

This auction ends at 6:20 ET on Super Bowl Sunday. I am an idiot. Thank you please bid now.

I love how something gets side dealed and someone says, "Good, then it went to a collector." EVERYTHING goes to collectors. Who else is buying vintage video games???? And guess what, if someone was in the business of buying stuff only to flip it, there are alot better things to do that with other than video games. These people you hate so much for reselling are actually collectors. So collectors aren't allowed to sell anymore?! I know a guy who owns his own buy/sell/trade shop and he's a diehard collector. Yeah, all of his stuff is potentially for sale, but that doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy it while he has it.... Just had to rant a little bit.

Colecovision games: Montezuma's Revenge and Star Wars the Arcade Game eBay Auction -- Item Number: 120678709366

If any of you have gone on vacation to Ocean City, MD in the 90's, depending on which hotel you stayed at, you may have seen this: This past summer my family and I went on our annual vacation to Ocean City, and to all of our surprise and delight, the old commercials were still playing on one of the channels on the TV! I rushed to the nearby CVS, bought their last package of VHS tapes, and decided it was my duty to preserve this classic. While everyone else was swimming in the ocean and relaxing on the beach, I was in the hotel room, rewiring the VCR connection to the TV. It only took about a half hour of rewiring before I was able to record. So I finally have the commercials for my own pleasure. But how on earth do you convert tapes to digital files? This Christmas I received the wonderful Pinnacle Dazzle studio software. This allows you to capture analog recordings and save them onto your computer. So finally the whole world can enjoy the magic. Some of my personal favs: "expertly sauced to perfection" "...why it'll almost make ya blush" "it's easy to get hooked..." "the dessert bar is democracy at its best" I also see the face of the man flambing (not sure how to spell that) in my dreams occasionally. Likely this will remain an in-joke with family members and people here will be left shrugging their shoulders. This is my first exploit into the world of YouTube. I plan to dig out some more VHS when I have the time and preserve some more rarities. It's hard finding things that aren't on YouTube, and I see no reason to post things that are already there. My brother and I joked that once this video was posted to YouTube we'd receive a letter which said, "Congratulations, thanks to your video now everything is on YouTube."

Chapter 7 At this time it would be useful to more closely examine the geological anomalies surrounding Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Beginning in early 2012, scientists began observing a magnetic field coming up from the Susquehanna River and branching outward into the city. Over the years the force has steadily increased and more recently has taken on an eerie, almost humanlike quirkiness about how and when it manifests itself. Scientists are still divided on exactly what the cause is, some attributing it to the gradual slowing of the earth’s rotation, others blaming global warming or pollution. “Our floating City Island has beat out the capital building as Harrisburg’s number 1 tourist attraction,” boasts Mayor Elaine Walsh. “Visitors come from all over to marvel at the 8th Wonder of the World. We are blessed to have such a magnificent gift from God.” Mayor Walsh isn’t the only one to turn to religion for answers. “I’m not the only one who thinks this way; with all those politicians jumping off of buildings, God must’ve have gotten fed up it with – I sure as hell am,” commented resident Peter Graham, aged 77. It is an odd coincidence that the magnetic field mirrored the increasing suicide rate. By the time the forces began creeping into the city, some 40 or so suicides via jumping had occurred within 3 months’ time, most of them politicians accused of theft. Some have gone so far as to “tempt” the forces that be, throwing themselves off of buildings for fun, only to be saved at the last moment. A common joke among politicians is that it’s impossible to kill yourself in Harrisburg anymore, advising colleagues to try their luck jumping off of buildings in Scranton. The state debt is the main reason for allowing the E.T. crew to wreak havoc throughout the city. “The aliens have landed,” deadpanned a state worker who was too busy to tell us his name. He tripped over sleeping, vomit covered student filmmakers as he walked into his office Tuesday morning. Director Bruce McCulloch was spotted wearing sunglasses and smoking marijuana in a rented out judge’s chambers. “This whole thing is like an awakening. Wake up Harrisburg! Jesus loves you! The character of E.T. will crystallize as we go along. It isn’t up to me, anyway, it’s up to the people. Is E.T. a physical being? Is E.T. some sort of transcendental awareness? I don’t know yet, I haven’t given it much thought. There’s a lot of feelings that need to be captured, and the medium of film makes it quite difficult. Goddammit doesn’t anyone have a working headslot?!” As for Tom and Chris they’re still sleeping. Most likely they’ll be hung over when they wake this evening. There’s no agenda. There’s no movie. There’s nothing here but pleasure. Endless pleasure and endless diversion. Give them a few weeks before they realize where they really are. And you know McCulloch is winking somewhere behind those sunglasses.

July 15 2002 Farside calendar

Ahhh man Vic 20 JERIST

Chapter 6 It wasn’t all smiles after that speech at the capital you know. In fact most people walked away disconcerted. “Drinking kills brain cells and makes you fat. I thought this movie job would be serious. I am a film major and take my studies very seriously,” said one woman who preferred to remain anonymous. “My father is an alcoholic. I’ve experimented with alcohol before and it isn’t pretty. The whole thing is just laughable. He’s so out of touch. I’m taking the next bus home. Let the fools get killed on that ladder,” said Eric. Other people echoed similar sentiments. All in all close to 60% of the students left before the sun went down that first day. The director must have overlooked an increasing trend toward sobriety that had taken hold over the last couple of years. Drinking was out. Pooting was in. Well it was in. Once you’ve experienced the I-Eye nothing really seems that cool anymore. And that was the biggest problem. For most it was back home for a boring, depressing summer. But Tom and Chris were sticking it out. “All the hot chicks left,” said a concerned Tom to his friend Chris, bunking in the bed above him. “Yuengling is good. It’s early still. People will show up.” “I can hear the band tuning. Everyone’s probably up there.” “FUCK THAT ISLAND!” yelled an agitated Chris. “Alright, sorry, man.” The two sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the swallowing of liquid. “So what’s your last name?” asked Tom, breaking the silence. “Farley. Chris Farley. My dad was a big Chris Farley fan. Probably because they had the same last name. So yeah, I’m named after Chris Farley.” “You sorta look like him,” commented Tom, already quite buzzed. “Shut up.”

Chapter 5 *SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKKK* “Ok, quiet down everybody, quiet down,” a short man with a receding gray hairline commands them through a loudspeaker. He stands atop the apex of the capital building, looking down on the sea of neon green that stretches for miles. His silver hair shines in the sunlight, his sideburns resting daintily below his now defunct headslot. “My name is Bruce McCulloch. I am the director of E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial. I want to thank you all for joining me on my final adventure. I’ve been diagnosed with cancer and this will be my farewell project to the world. This film will be unique in that all aspects of its creation will be done by you, the youth of America. Growing up in Alberta, I always longed to be an American pop idol. Hopefully you can fulfill my dying dream and together we can create a magnificent film. I chose Harrisburg as the location because of its beauty, mystery, and the emerging rock scene here. In fact tonight The Slitheads will be performing a private concert on City Island!” The crowd cheers. “State buildings have been rented out for lodging, cafeterias, jam rooms, whatever. As you’ve been told, we will provide you with all clothes, food, guitars, and anything else you could possibly need or want. Think of this as one big party.“ The crowd cheers again. He motions towards City Island. “I’ve been drinking SoCo all day, watching that ladder sway back and forth. You fuckers really know how to rock and roll!” More cheers. “Anyways get drunk, do whatever you want, and we’ll see you at the show. Oh, and feel free to film the concert on whatever devices you have on you. If someone has a working headslot that would be fucking cool too.” The crowd laughs. “Well, alright, alright. Oh, I’m trying to start a band. I play a little guitar and sing. If there’s any drummers out there catch up with me during the concert. So whatever you guys can film on your phones and shit we’ll put in the movie. I want it to be real. This isn’t mine. This is yours. There’s beer in your dorms. Have a good day.” With that Bruce throws himself from the capital building inciting gasps from the crowd. At the last instant he hovers just above the ground, then straightens himself out, lands, and walks towards them. The crowd parts and most stand silent, some give him a high five. From Tom’s view he seems to just disappear into thin air. Tom turns to Chris. “The Slitheads kinda suck.” “Agreed. Dorm party?” “Hell yeah! We gotta start this thing out right.”

Chapter 4 Tom wiped the sleep from his eyes and glanced at his crumbled piece of paper as the bus rolled into Harrisburg. "Sign ups - 10:00 A.M. - Riverview Pavilion - City Island" "City Island?" he thought, "Pennsylvania doesn't border the ocean. This must be on the Susquehanna River." It didn't take long for Tom to figure out where to go. As far as the eye could see - on street corners, outside of Starbucks, loitering on the stairs of state buildings - were college students wearing neon green E.T. tee-shirts. "This is insane," thought Tom. "They must have invited every college in the area." Tom stopped the first person he saw. A hot redheaded chick. "Hey, how do I get to City Island?" She pointed to the sky. "It's up there, man." Sure enough, floating about 20 or so feet above the Susquehanna River was a large island. "Well, gee," Tom said innocently, "how do I get up there?" "There's a ladder on the other side. Good luck, there's a huge line." It took about 20 minutes of walking, and close to a dozen people trying to bum cigarettes, before Tom could reach the other side of the island. A rickety, wooden, fold down ladder was swaying back and forth with people climbing. "Ah crap," thought Tom. "I don't know if I can do this. Maybe this was a bad idea." Tom always had a mild fear of heights. Nevertheless, he waited in the line to get on the ladder. And wouldn't you know it, standing right in from of him was this guy from one of his English classes. "Hey, do you go to Penn State?" "Yeah! We had English together last semester, right?" "Yeah, heh, that class was a joke." "Oh I know. I didn't even download the book." "Heh, yeah." The line moved about 3 people. "This island thing is pretty wild, huh?" Tom asked, keeping the conversation going. "Yeah, it's crazy. I heard it's some sort of magnetic pull or something. Like the Bermuda Triangle." "Oh yeah?" "Yeah this redhead was telling me." "You mean the smoking hot one hanging out by the bus stop?" "YEAH!" The two burst into laughter. Tom didn't feel as nervous now about climbing up the ladder. "So what's your name, man?" Tom asked. "Chris." "My name’s Tom." They shook hands. "I don't know about climbing this ladder, Tom," Chris said wryly, "I hope we don't fall off." "Yeah," Tom chuckled nervously, "that would really bite." Finally it came to their turn. A chunky, dark haired man with a clipboard instructed them. "Ok fellas. When the person in front of you moves up a rung, then you move up a rung. Keep a good rhythm, hold on tight, and don't look down." Chris climbed on, then Tom, then the person behind Tom. The ladder swayed, but they did as they were told and got up to the island. Chris was waiting with a high five for Tom. "Awesome man! We passed the first test!" The two new friends walked over to the sign up table. A pretty girl was sitting there smiling. "Hey guys! You made it up the ladder, huh?" The two nodded. "Well your packets are over there. We'll be meeting again at noon outside of the capital building. Until then you can explore the city, do whatever you want. What else…right! What size tee-shirts are you guys?" "Large," said Tom. "XL," said Chris. She tossed them two neon green shirts. Chris immediately took his shirt off and put his new shirt on. Tom was a bit shy and just held onto his. "Go ahead, Tom. Put your shirt on," Chris insisted. As fast as he could Tom took his old shirt off and put his new one on, trying to hide his body. "That a-boy, Tommy!" Chris said, patting him on the back. "Just one more thing," Tom asked, his face still red. "How do we get back down?" The girl at the table put a huge smile on her face. "Why the slide of course! Hope you boys brought your bathing suits!" Tom and Chris just looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. This is going be an interesting summer indeed!

Chapter 3 "Chrissy, it's Tom!" "Oh, hey Tom! It's so nice to hear from you!" "Guess what!" "What?!" "I got a job!" "Oh my God! I'm so happy for you!" "Yeah I know! I'm so excited!" "What is it?" "I'm working on the set of a movie! In Harrisburg!" "Wow! That's amazing!" "I know! I'm leaving tomorrow." "Well good luck, Tom! Call me when you get there." "Ok, I will. I love you!" "I love you, too!" "Bye!" "Bye!" Tom clicks off the phone and smiles. He takes a snort of Rhinocort and walks outside. It's a beautiful, summer Sunday. He continues down his street, daydreaming about what might be, letting his unconscious guide him on where to go. Eventually he finds himself outside of the comic book store. "I haven't been in here in years," he thinks. He enters. Mmmm. Still smells the same. Tom walks over to the classic section. Yes. Ghost Rider. His favorite comic book character. He takes a copy from the 90's and leafs through it. So evil, so violent, so cool. The Beatles' "Lovely Rita" is playing softly in the background. "Can I help you with anything, son?" Tom looks up. "Oh, just browsing." "A'ight. Cool. Cool. You into Ghost Rider?" "Yea," Tom says curtly, not wanting to get into a conversation. "You should check out Elvira: Mistress of the Dark. I have the first issue from '93. It's really sexy, stuff, ya know? Dark stuff like that." Faintly you can hear Paul McCartney singing "sitting on a sofa with a sister or two..." "Yeah, that's ok, man. I'm just looking around." "Ok bud." Tom imagines himself as that flaming skull man, riding his motorcycle through the streets of Harrisburg. "Maybe I'll meet a girl out there," he thinks. Things with Crissy are ok, ya know, but lately it's been a bit stale. They met at Penn State. They've only been going out for, what, like 3 months? It's not really anything serious. This movie thing might be the beginning of something big. Tom feels euphoric, almost the way he did when pooting. "Well, catch ya later boss!" he snarls as he bolts out the door, greeting the sunlight. He spins around in a circle laughing. "I wish I could be 19 forever!" he declares. This is the greatest he's ever felt. This is his time to shine, he decides. "This is my summer."

Kicks Honeycomb's ass, that's for sure.

I payed $15 for these thinking they were Atari 2600 carts (doh!!). Honestly, I'd hope to get around $10 back for them. Sorry about claiming they were $.99 each...I guess more like $5 each or best offer. I do not have a Colecovision to test them so these are sold as is. Thanks.

Chapter 2 Poot! Poot! Poot! Poot! Zip! Zip! Pee! Pee! Pee! Dr. Amarita Netel has been assassinated. I repeat: Dr. Amarita Netel has been assassinated. Zip! Zup! Poot! Poot! Poo! Tom was standing in the hallway connecting the kitchen to the living room when he heard the news. His parents were sitting at the kitchen table. Everything just stopped. You could hear a pin drop. Ask any person where they were when they heard that Amarita was shot. They'll tell you. This was the defining moment of the 2020's. After that things changed. Oh did they change. But, here, let me get you caught up. Amarita Netel was a child prodigy who moved to the United States from India in the mid 2000's to attend Harvard. She first received an MD/PhD in Neuroscience and soon thereafter a PhD in Computer Science. This was all before her 20th birthday. She invented the headslot. Enough said. The headslot is a conversion chip with USB port that can be surgically embedded in a person's head. Amarita patented the system for accurately encoding and storing mental processes. She created an early prototype to the I-Eye, simply called X, which was intended to treat Alzheimer's. People carrying the gene for Alzheimer's could receive the headslot and transfer as many memories as possible into the X before the disease took hold. All of these memories could then be assimilated back into the mind as time took its course. This was the idea, anyway. However Apple got hold of the X and created their own version, the I-Eye, which was marketed primarily for entertainment purposes. The genius of the headslot and the X is in their simplicity, and this is also their downfall. Shady doctors were springing up in rundown offices offering bargain headslot surgeries. It's estimated that as of 2023, 34% of Americans have a headslot, with 32% of them having knock-off versions. Amarita was involved in a lengthy legal battle with Apple at the time of her death. She was shot by a crazed, conservative Christian outside of her home in Los Angeles in June of 2023. Within hours of her death all of the headslots became deactivated. Apparently Amarita hid a secret line of code in the headslot program which would deactivate all headslots if need be. It was thought that a member of her family was instructed on how to do this in the event of her death, and most of her family had already fled to India. The public and Apple are furious, and quite frankly many people don't know how to live without their I-Eye. People kept it plugged in all the time while it drugged them and kept them sane in an increasingly schizophrenic society. Tom was no different. He became depressed and spent hours just fingering his open, empty headslot, staring into space. One day his mood was brightened when a letter came in the mail. Dear Mr. Thomas Saucin, I-Eye Tom! How are you? Are you enjoying your summer? Have you made any plans yet? Boy do we have a special opportunity for you! How would you like to work on the set of a real life Hollywood movie?! Universal Studios is looking for young, talented, and ambitious college students to intern on the set of an upcoming movie. A remake of E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial is in the works this summer, and filming is going on practically in your backyard, in Harrisburg! We'd love for you to join our team and gain valuable experience while having a ton of fun! Please get back to me A.S.A.P if you are interested! Walter Shoemaker, Director of Intern Operations, (717)232-4099 Maybe this was just what Tom needed. It would be fun, and as Walter mentioned, good experience. He talked it over with his folks and it was decided. He'd be heading to Harrisburg in July to begin a new adventure in his life. But little did he know that the white hot fire of Satan would be waiting to infest his every pore, challenging him to discover if any part of him is good at all, and teaching him the hard way that it is impossible to fight evil alone.

Duke of St Albans: Mr. Potter, we're all depending on you. You're the head on this entire operation. Duke of Norfolk: Yes, Mr. Potter, you must lead us. We are mere shells, filled with your great insight, reflecting all that you perceive. Duke of Montrose: We are nothing without you. How will you lead humanity in the coming tribulation? Duke of Bedford: Please takes us gently by the hand, Harry. Lead us into the time of great struggle. Duke of Roxburghe: How can we prepare for the split? Is it true, Harry, that there will be movement of the mental techtonic plates? Duke of Kent: The space between the plates is increasing, Harry. What are we to do? Duke of Norfolk: Mr. Potter, the mental plates are shifting. Are you aware of this? Duke of St Albans: Please have mercy on us, Harry. Please forgive humanity. Forgive us all for what we've done to you. Duke of Montrose: It's time now, Mr. Potter. Please be gentle with us. Please lead us gently by the hand. Harry Potter: GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! To be continued...

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SELLING COLECOVISION GAMES: MONTEZUMA'S REVENGE AND STAR WARS ARCADE GAME