Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Marky Mark's Make My Video music video game made me feel like a woman

Click to enlarge (Via)

I loved Marky Mark. Loved, loved, loved him. He made me think naughty thoughts before I knew what those naughty thoughts actually were.

Marky Mark (or Mr. Wahlberg as I called him every night when I kissed my Calvin Klein poster before I went to sleep) was simple, straightforward and had all the traits I understood (at the time) that a girl should look for in a man:

  • Ability to fight evil punching bags mercilessly while still flexing
  • Ability to rap sort of like a black guy without actually being a black guy while still flexing
  • Ability to dance and punch evil parts of the air while still flexing
  • Ability to drop trou and masturbate in public while still flexing
And he had his own video game. Sorta.

The game pretty much made no sense, and sort of played like a crappy Windows music visualizer that played the same three songs over and over and over and...


Whatever. Marky Mark was and still is a sex god. The ten year-old inside of me will always love him for making me a woman (that is, before I discovered what my sister's back massager could really do) and the woman I am today continues to love him (and dream about possibly forcing him to father my illegitimate child at gunpoint).

Yay now. Thankfully he hasn't been forced to resort to embarassing himself like, well, this:

Wow that hurt.

0 painful displays of affection:

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