John DeVore

 I like to go to movies alone because I like to smash popcorn directly into my face without being judged. I also like to go alone so I can watch movies I would never admit to seeing. Because I’m a snob. Movies about sensitive vampires and men who vomit and sexy ninjas who fight zombies in sci-fi action flicks that are based on video games and look like video games but are better than video games because I don’t have to play them. I can just sit back and pick corn out of my teeth.

I went to a movie alone last year, right before I sobered up,  and the man sitting one seat over from me,  because there should always be a safety seat separating two grown men who are at a cartoon movie about talking lizards by themselves, the man was playing a video game on his phone. During the movie. He was playing that game about birds committing suicide. The glowing light was annoying me and I gave him a sharp look. One that said “And just who do you think you are?” But he kept playing and finally I leaned over and coughed. Not a passive-aggressive cough. An atomic one thick with radioactive phlegm. And he glanced over at me, smirked, and whispered “Get used to it.”

You know, he had a point. Continue reading →

I don't know what I'm yelling. Looks like "Cheeseburger! Donkey disco!" Also: I stand during the show. I just felt like having a nice sit when this photo was taken.

1. I tell a story about video games! My dad was a video game junkie. He would sit in his underwear in front of our TV in the basement, and play for hours. His addiction started with Pong and continued until his death. I hated video games because as a kid, I saw no reward in meaningless toil. If you told me then that I’d grow up to be like him, I would have barfed.

“Son of Pong” is a story about growing up. A story about why people play video games.  A story about how the grins of the father shall be visited upon the son. I’ll even tell you how it starts: I’m a grown man dying in an emergency room and the cellphone game “Angry Birds” saves  my life.

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This was one of my favorite questions someone asked me during my brief stint at Guyspeak. Got a lady question about bro stuff? Hit that site up.)

A:

Thank you for the thoughtful question. Continue reading →

To a certain generation, the Sandman was a legendary comic book written by Neil Gaiman.

Other comic book fans know the Sandman as a shape-shifting enemy of Spider-man.

The heavy metal band Metallica wrote about the Sandman for their 1991 rock classic “Enter Sandman.” And, of course, there’s 1954′s pop hit “Mr. Sandman” written by Pat Ballard and sung by The Chordettes.

But as a six-year old, the Sandman was my mortal enemy.

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If magical critters existed, I would nom them with extreme prejudice. Here’s how I’d grill, roast, or lightly sautee them.  Just call me a crypto-gourmand

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