Battle.net Gods Take Revenge on the Carl

Not content to bat us around like a chew toy, Battle.net also mocks us with a very sucky torch.

Some of our uneducated readers may not realize it, but the Carl was spawned at the feet of Battle.net. If Shawn is the grandpappy and the other Carls his unwilling partners in a lunatic coupling to create the off-spring, Battle.net was the back seat of the car in which the dirty deeds were done in birthing the Carl.

The Carls don't spend much time on Battle.net these days as their fickle attention is now focused largely on Arena.net. This morning, however, the Carls returned in full force to their old playing grounds for a little romping in Uber Tristram (for what is commonly called a "Pandemonium Event"). Uber Tristram is a special place where steroid-enhanced and crazed versions of Baal, Diablo, and Mephisto hang out waiting for earnest heroes to show up and bat them around for the chance at a special drop, a Hellfire torch large charm. The best of such charms give +3 to skills for a certain class of hero and 20 to all attributes and 20 to all resists. The worst will give +3 to all skills and 10 to all attributes and 10 to all resists. What's more, some classes are more desirable than others. Only smelly loonies enjoy playing assassins, for instance, so that is the least desirable class to receive such a charm for.

Not only are they huge and comical, but they, of course, do not stack in the stash.

Making one's way to Uber Tristram is not easy. You must first rough up several bosses in hell level difficulty and shake them down for pandemonium keys. You need 3 of each key and that in and of itself can take awhile as the keys drop in about 1 in 10 or so trips to the each boss's house. Since they aren't big on unannounced visitors showing up at their tea time and asking them to empty their pockets of goodies, it's not exactly a picnic running them. They're grumpier than Sharon gets when you don't listen to her and run off and angry up a bunch of enemies and facilitate a party wipe.

Once you've laid down the smack enough times for 9 of the correct over-sized novelty pandemonium keys, you have to use them to open up 3 portals where you encounter the semi-uber bosses. The main problem for the Carls is that Lilith, who has large naked breasts and is constantly bending over and attempting to stab the heroes' eyes out with her nipples, is very terrifying to the mammaphobic types (cough, Shawn, cough). Each of the three ubers leaves behind a juicy body part (horn, brain, eyeball) which you then used to cook up a portal to Uber Tristram.

Uber Tristram, the gateway to untold misery.

Now, the road has already been long, hard, and expensive so, once you generate that portal, you don't want Battle.net to do one of its drunken hiccups, toss you out into the lobby, and throw your game with it's rare and valuable red portal into the trash can. However, Battle.net is an extremely jealous entity and it does not take kindly to deserters. In retaliation for our dalliances with the likes of Guild Wars and Arena.net (that hussy!), Battle.net smacks us up real good during our sojourn into Uber Tristram. Oh, it let us get our body parts from the semi-ubers just fine and open up our portal, but then it played a mind game with us that even the most neurotic stalker girlfriend wouldn't inflict on you.

First, it let us make the portal and go in. We had encountered Uber Mephisto after a careful lure and beaten him down to a sliver of life when the screen froze then flashed us all a "You Have Lost Your Connection to Battle.net" message and tossed us into the lobby. Panicked that the game and it's hard to generate portal were now history, we jumped back in and issued a sigh of relief that the game was still intact. Now, our well-planned and executed lure of one of the three ubers is in tatters and they are all on us so we smack the nearest one and that's now Uber Baal. Bear in mind that, the longer you take to kill the ubers, the worse the situation gets as each one is constantly summoning minions out of thin air. We get Baal down to a sliver and the screen freezes and we're tossed out again. Once more we beat a hasty path back in before the game collapses.

Now, we're sensing a pattern, but we're gullible enough to try again and the same thing happens as we once more pound down an Uber to a sliver of life. We decided to jettison one of the players in hopes of placating Battle.net with a human sacrifice (bye, bye, Shawn, the large-breasted will trouble you no more). No dice. We kick another player out knowing that life is going to be very hard with only two of us in the scramble and Sharon gets sent packing. Two Carls are out and two are left (my husband is the other Carl).

Keep in mind that my husband has not been toying with that slut Arena.net as the 3D camera effects make him motion sick. He and I go back in and my ass is handed to me immediately and I exit the game and come back so I can collect my body more quickly. Meanwhile, in reward for his loyalty, Battle.net lets him wipe out Uber Meph all by himself while I scramble to pick up my carcass and jump back in through the red portal. I believe it is no mere coincidence that he alone was spared as the lone faithful boyfriend of Battle.net.

In the end, we got the torch, but the stats and hero class made it clear that Battle.net is still feeling uppity and felt mocking us was in order. We're going to have to work hard to placate this gaming service scorned. Sacrifices of Jell-o (what corn is to Arena.net, Jell-o is to Battle.net) and plush wombats will have to be offered on bended knee. If all else fails, it can have Shawn as a grubby, but passive, slave boy provided that it keeps Lilith away from him.

The Future Is Corn

Image clearly pilfered from Cracked. Just because they're a joke site doesn't mean they aren't right! After all, the Carls are full of wit, charm, and infectious humor, but we are also clearly correct about everything of which we speak.

Some of you have wondered about the Carlish preoccupation with corn. Since you've taken the time to worship at the altar of Carl by reading this site (don't try to deny it because that's got to be the only reason you are here - you love us and can't stay away!), I'll let you in on a hint or two as to why the Carl loves corn.

You may not realize this, but corn is everywhere you want to be, in every product you want to use and in everything you want to eat. There's a list here, but it only claims corn is in 25% of the products we buy so they're not exactly the most reliable source. Nonetheless, they give the ignorant rabble who live outside the blessed aura of Carl a clue or two about the breadth and power of corn in our lives.

A biodegradable corn kitchen organizer. It looks like plastic, but has all of the power of corn. If you're starving to death, you can eat your organizers to survive until the next corn harvest.

In fact, if I were an investing sort, I'd be sinking my money into corn right now as it is certain that the future is going to be flying corn cars and high speed corn computers with high fructose processors. Mark my words.

Desperate Times Result in New Facilities for Carls

Healing Carl tries out the new "facilities".

The Carl guild hall recently saw the installation of new, state of the art and highly effective bathroom facilities in the basement. The guild leader, Healing Carl, went to great pains and expense in order to upgrade the hall's aging outhouse system after many problems associated with the facilities arose because of the guild members' atypical "typical" usage.

An example of the Carl's former (ineffective) restroom design.

The need for the upgrade occurred when it became clear that the excretions of various Carls are anything but usual as compared to most inferior non-Carlish human beings. The quantity and olfactory sensations resulting from the Carl are great and powerful compared to the average person as should be the case for something as grand and incredible as the Carl. Additionally, unlike their compatriots, the filthy minkeys (MNKY), who prefer their feces to be kept in open piles so they may be tossed about at will, the Carls prefer not to keep waste material on hand for easy access.

Carlhalla was becoming an increasingly unpleasant place to spend time in as the months went by and our intrepid guild leader was forced to find a solution. After considering a wide variety of modern toilet facilities, she decided that the lax hygiene and unique chemistry of certain members would mean that even the best conventional lavatory would be insufficient to the task.

For the Carls, only the most desperate of measures will effectively handle their fragrant excretions. Healing investigated an unconventional but highly effective "pit o' lava" model with a magical levitation "seat" technology. When one needs to relieve oneself, all one has to do is toss a little glittering dust into the pit, say a brief incantation ("poopius needius"), and hover over the boiling pit and do one's business. The foul droppings are instantly incinerated and any accompanying vaporous emissions are quickly consumed. As a side benefit, any time hard partying results in the need to copiously yak up last night's meal, one need only hang one's head over the pit and let loose with torrents of tossed cookies.

Sanitation expert, Blorf. (file photo)

This particular model of bathroom facility is courtesy of Blorf. While the Asura usually do not share their technology with outsiders, an exception was made in this case for the Carls because they acknowledge the absolute uberness of the name "Blorf."

Carl Insurrection At Hand?

The Carls reside in the Isle of the Dead because, unlike other sissy guilds, we fear nothing. Also, we're really lazy and this configuration keeps all our lackeys nearby for easy access. This allows for more time to discuss the greater issues of the day such as the current state of corn and wombat futures, and how many times a hungover warrior can barf in the pool behind the storage chest before it starts to really stink up the joint.

Trouble is brewing in Carlhalla as the Guild leader has grown drunk on her own sense of power. The Carl only approves of getting drunk on substances such as booze, huffing beetle snuff, and inhaling the noxious fumes emanating from Fancypants's pants.

Click this small preview to load a bigger, more legible incendiary message.

The trouble started when the message above flickered into view as Carls entered the guild hall. Previously, the guild leader had outlawed yak and goat porn leaving the Carls nothing with which to arouse themselves beyond the highly fetishist (and honestly, pricey) erotic dolyak material. Fancypants in particular had acquired quite a collection as he is a great fan of "XXXL" sized companions. In fact, it is recommended that the words "yak" or "dolyak" not be mentioned in his presence as he becomes "overly excited" and it is "unpleasant" for all involved. Seriously unpleasant.

The evil that infests the CARL Guild Hall and is threatening to take it over.

The excuse given for the outlawing of racy dolyak materials rings hollow and is seen as a flimsy cover-up of the guild leader's true motivations as the wombats that live in Carlhalla are a well-trained team of crack mercenaries who meticulously follow the orders of their Carlish superiors. Various Carls have their suspicions. One guess is that she is merely attempting to free up space to cram more of her collectible crap (as discussed in a previous piece) into the various storage spaces in Carlhalla. Others suspect that she may be trying to introduce some sort of new and disturbing erotica (e.g., Asura porn) in place of the Carl's preferred stimulatory literature. Most of the Carls are responding to the situation by rambling incoherently and shaking their fists at their leader (though the former is really nothing new) because of their sexual frustration.

A filthy minkey falls to the ground in a state of confused intoxication after forcibly whiffing Fancypants's pants. (file photo)

If the leader's cruel and unusual restrictions are not lifted, there may be a violent insurrection among the Carls. Well, probably not. Insurrection is too much effort. They'll probably just sneak in more goat, yak and dolyak smut and do a better job of hiding it from their leader. She'll likely give Fancypants's dresser a wide berth so they'll just cram things in there.

Names Awarded the Carl Seal of Approval #8

Molotov Rocktail

Happy Birthday, Shawn!

Scientists often speculate on the origin of mankind. They think we may have been born in some sort of primordial ooze and made our way from dividing cells to single-celled organisms to water-based spawn to land-based creatures. Or something like that. I wasn't actually paying that much attention in biology that day.

Unlike the origins of man, which are pretty much a series of scientific guesses, we know the origin of the Carl. The Carl was born from the energy of a variety of like-minded folks, but the grandpappy of the Carl is Shawn. Without him, there absolutely could be no Carl.

So, it is of the utmost importance that we celebrate the birth of this V.I.C. (Very Important Carl) as he embodies all that is good and right about Carlish ways. His lack of sanity, love of corn, random nature, and dubious hygiene are all stellar examples of what makes the Carl grand and both envied and admired by all and sundry.

Twenty-six years ago today, a Carl progenitor was born, and I hope he has a wonderful birthday worthy of his incredible spirit. That spirit is both a fabulous Carl, and a much loved and valued friend. May all who have had the fortune to encounter him for even the most fleeting of moments raise a glass in his honor and wish him well.

May your refrigerator be full of corn, your stomach full of cookies, and your mind sanity free, oh great wombat stuffer. I also hope you get some good loot. ;-)

Better Know the Carls

The three Carls are an enigmatic lot. They stand as paragons of Carlness in a sea of those unenlightened in the way of the Carl. The Carl is sure you'd like to know us better, or at least imagines so. At the very least, it is indifferent to any indifference you may have toward us.

Given the confusion those who encounter us have about our identities, we felt it may be useful for you to firm up your knowledge of each of us by helping you relate both to each of our personalities, situations, and the place each of us holds in the Carl dynamic through pop culture.

The three Carls are Shari, Sharon, and Shawn. While the similarity of these names may lead you to believe that we are all related, one of us is bound to the others by sheer Carl power. The other two are bound by blood as well as Carl. In fact, if one of us were actually a sibling of one of the other Carls, there's a good chance that particular Carl would rarely see a day without bruises inflicted in frustration. By the time you get to the end of this likely verbose and incomprehensible post, you'll know which is which.

Which Carl (Shari, Sharon, or Shawn) corresponds to each of the stooges below:

1. (from left: Moe, Larry, Curly)

Which Carl corresponds to each of these stooges:

2. (from left: McCoy, Kirk, Spock)


3. (from left: bacon, lettuce and tomato)


4. (from left: Snap, Crackle and Pop)

Answers:

1. Sharon: Moe Shari: Larry Shawn: Curly

Sharon is the one who is always having to (verbally) deck Shawn for his insanity and goofy behavior. I'm between them and sometimes explain things and sometimes engages in lunacy of her own. Also, my hair is red like Larry's.

2. McCoy: Sharon Kirk: Shari Shawn: Spock (if he is deep in the plak-tow or when he's looped on flowers from "This Side of Paradise")

McCoy is often grumpy and insistent that people act rationally in a difficult situation. Kirk gets all the lines and I do about 80% of the talking when the Carls speak. I also am clearly the most charismatic of the Carls. Shawn being Spock only works if he is utterly out of his head for some reason. Mainly though, Shawn has pointed ears and green blood in real life.

3. Bacon: Sharon Lettuce: Shawn Tomato: Shari

Sharon is the one who "makes" the "meal" (actually plays the game). We're sort of along for the ride and, while we help, we're not exactly integral to the experience of succeeding in the game. Most people would be just as happy with the bacon all by itself, though the tomato and lettuce add something to the experience as well. I'm the tomato because sometimes I say things which burn (unintentionally, just like a tomatoes acidic nature). And it's red. And I have red hair. Shawn, of course, is a vegetable that has to be kept carefully in the crisper or he goes bad. It's one of the reasons why we can't allow him to hang out or be around others for too long a time. He'll spoil if we don't get him back in his cage, er, fridge.

4. Snap: Sharon Crackle: Shari Pop: Shawn

Sharon snaps at us. I crackle back. Shawn pops his sanity cork and tries to distract everyone.

I'm sure you feel enlightened and enriched by this experience. You don't have to thank us, but, we know you're going to insist on doing so. You're welcome.

Errant Carl Located

Godly Carl, seen here is his trademark drag get-up, does a cowardly dash from an enemy (as is also his trademark behavior).

Godly Carl, who was reported missing some time ago, was spotted after a long absence from his Carlish brethren fleeing from a large burning Charr effigy. It is unknown why the incensed effigy was chasing Godly, but his fellow Carls suspect that he may have been offering it unwelcome fashion tips. When Healing spotted the wayward Carl, she instructed Tankarific to "incapacitate him!" Since "incapacitate" is at least 4 syllables more than Tankarific can understand in his oft-inebriated state, he responded with, "Tanakarific smash with axe?" With an eye-roll and a look of total exasperation at her alcohol-addled companion, Healing Carl shouted, "yes!"

Godly refuses to look at Tankarific as he is miffed at him for ripping his favorite dress and hogtying him.

Tankarific Carl then stepped on the wayward transvestite's dress to trip him, hit him on the head with the blunt side of his axe and dragged him back to Carlhalla for questioning. Unfortunately, Godly was far from cooperative and remained tight-lipped about his adventures away from home. The Carls suspect he may have been in cahoots with the people who sabotaged the Guild Hall some time ago. It's also possible that he simply ran off and had a hissy fit because of the alliance with the filthy minkeys. Either way, Godly has been grounded and informed that he cannot have any corn for 2 weeks as a punishment for his capriciousness.

A decision has not been made as to whether further coercion should be employed in order to force a confession out of Godly as he is notoriously difficult to influence. However, if his tongue doesn't loosen in due time, the Carls may be forced to take the drastic step of making him dress like a man. There is a great risk that acting on such a threat will send him off into a corner where he will weep like a little girl until given a petticoat to wear. Drastic times, however, call for Carlish measures.

Deranged Elf Sighted

The deranged elf who has been vandalizing the CARL guild hall was allegedly sighted today in the MnkY guild hall.

He was seen talking to Sinful Smurfette about armor and fetishes. Smurfette says that she was discussing armor with him. She quoted him as saying “Hi, I’m Steve and I’m addicted to armor.” He then went on to say that he had been armor free for a month now. Smurfette was unsure of how to take this but she congratulated him. He then added that it was difficult for obese elfs to buy armor.

Smurfette was naturally horrified by the thought of being unable to buy armor and commiserated with him. Farming expeditions to Joko’s Domain were discussed. Again you are asked to please report any elf sightings as he may be unbalanced and highly dangerous.

Perverted Gremlin Propositions Carls

During a recent foray into gremlin territory to help the filthy creatures remove certain undesirable elements from their region (most notably involving creatures thought to be extinct for several hundred million years), Ghostly Wombat (exercising a Carl day-pass to team up with the guild) encountered a local with an apparent appetite for more "earthy" pleasures.

The oddly-named Blimm proposes that Ghostly inspect his "goods"

The demented creature apparently lures unsuspecting travelers to his vicinity by having an inexplicably awesome name. However, once they approach, he becomes increasingly agitated, eager to depart the town and visit a more convenient (and secluded) location.

His confidence up, Blimm is eager to get to his "guest house"

It should be noted that although she was foolish enough to approach, Ghostly Wombat managed to drop an urn of Kuurong's ashes on his head and escaped unscathed. Other locals who are familiar with Blimm's penchant for the forbidden fruits were heard remarking the suitability of the gremlin being foiled by the ashes of someone once best known for "grasping".

It is suspected that Blimm is still at large, and at this point, is probably very desperate. He may now be armed with the ashes of one who once had similar appetites, and consequently should be avoided at all costs. Strangely, Fancypants Carl has volunteered to bring this perverted creature to justice, so any and all information about Blimm's current whereabouts should be forwarded to Fancypants for further research. (Informants are discouraged from sending personal photos unless they also happen to be yaks, involve yaks, or are related to yaks in any way).

***UPDATE***

The suspect known as "Blimm" may have already met someone with a less forgiving nature than that of Ghostly Wombat. During their recent forays into the same area, the Carls stumbled across the item depicted below:

The "staff"; apparently Blimm also had a penchant for hyperbole

Due to these findings, Fancypants has apparently lost interest in the case, although he has retained the evidence for "archival purposes". However, in a somewhat disturbing development, Diabolical Carl has determined to continue to pursue the case until Blimm's (hopefully unharmed) corpse is discovered. "I can't rest until I have his cold dead corpse in my hands," the frightening monster claimed. When questioned as to why he was so intent on solving this particular crime, he replied "Crime? What did he do?"

Diabolical Carl pondering the sanity of his cohorts (and rightfully so). (File photo)

(Editor's note from the High Queen of Carl (Shari): I added Diabolical's picture here for reference).

Regardless of his motives, it may be only fitting that Blimm's body be claimed by a creature nearly half as ugly as he himself once was.

Remains of Oversize Lizard Fascinate Carlish Archaeologists

The Carls and their hired lackeys ponder the best way to extricate their find from the Canthan platform.

During a routine expedition in Cantha, Carlish archaeologists stumbled across what appeared to be a giant petrified flying lizard (also known colloquially as a "dragon") buried partially in the warped planks of the Canthan walkways. Normally, artifacts in Cantha consist of a vast collections of soiled rags, rotting lumber, and remnants of those stupid cheap red paper lanterns that the Canthans hang all over the place. The giant dragon is a substantial find.

Confusion reigned as the Carls considered various methods of extracting the petrified creature. Tankarific Carl suggested, "Tanakarific smash with axe?" The other Carls responded to this suggestion as they usually do and ignored his drunken rambling. Fancypants Carl speculated that dropping his fancy pants and mooning the long deceased reptile might be a way of frightening it so it'd just "jump up" and out of the flooring. The Carls once more responded as they usually do to this particular comrade and backed away slowly.

With Tankarific standing by drunk, holding out his axe and looking confused, and Fancypants grinning lewdly and holding out something best not mentioned in polite company, the task of figuring out how to extract the huge artifact fell to the saner of the Carls, Healing Carl. Healing, who is known for her obsessive compulsive disorders including the need to collect every possible mini pet that ever existed and stockpiling huge quantities of useless collectible items (Hummel figurines litter the Carlhalla's nooks and crannies along with skree wings and both superb and regular Charr carvings), was the Carl who most wanted to unearth the scaled behemoth. She wanted to keep it as a "maxi pet" as she's nearly completed her collections of all other sorts of available crap and felt the need to start a new collection. Frankly, the other Carls are worried and believe she should be on medication when they are sober and sane. Thankfully, neither of those mental states are very common around the Carl guild hall so Healing remains free to indulge her particular neurotic tendencies.

Healing suggested that they simply use whatever implements were at hand to actually "dig" into the ground and "unearth" the "dragon" as that is the way archaeological "digs" are usually conducted. Despite her clear explanations and astute leadership, the remaining Carls and their hired flunkies stood around looking stumped as to what needed to be done. Though Healing Carl is thoroughly accustomed to such behavior from her inebriated and demented subordinates, she became quite testy and eventually gave up and stalked away.

The petrified dragon remains safely ensconced in the platform where it is free of the mini pet droppings and kitschy knick-knacks which litter Carlhalla.

Names Awarded the Carl Seal of Approval #7

Sheldon the Verminator

Mystery Disease Strikes the Carl

Smiting Carl looks on as Ghostly Wombat, who likely contracted the disease after sneaking into the Carl guild hall (Carlhalla), goes into a fit of jerky spasms. As a smiter, he is helpless to apply any healing techniques to her in her hour of need so he stands by and applauds her entertaining disorder.

A mystery disease is striking certain members of the Carl clan. The symptoms include spastic and/or clumsy movements, a tendency to drool more frequently than usual for a Carl, and a loss of desire for corn. The slobber in particular is actually an alarming amount considering the impressive amount of spittle of which the average Carl is capable. Great pools of this oozing is collecting on the floor of Carlhalla so visitors are encouraged to watch their step or risk a sock-soaking of possibly infectious Carl juices.

Tanktastic does her impression of someone with an I.Q. lower than 80. Since she has an I.Q. of 68, it's hard to say if this is a symptom of the unknown disease or if she's just playing with her pet Rurik on an average day. Nonetheless, it is a disturbing sight. (file photo)

Adopting a vacant and dumb look on one's face while clumsily stomping on the ground with one foot is another possible symptom, but it's hard to know for sure as Carls are prone to doing this pretty much all the time anyway.

Virtuous Carl consults with a doctor who could tear himself away from the sensory delights of the guild hall long enough to offer a theory about the cause of the mystery disease. This particular doctor theorized that certain Carls may be in the advanced stages of a mutant yak-based venereal disease.

Doctors claim to be working around the clock in an attempt to deal with this disease. However, this news source noticed that most of the doctors seemed to be spending their time riffling through the collection of yak porn hidden behind the Festival Hat maker and scarfing down the excess stores of corn. However, between trips to the "spanking pond" and mouthfuls of corn, one doctor said he believes that the disease is likely psychosomatic in nature. The doctor believes that the nature of Carl is to constantly behave in confusing and unpredictable ways and frequent socialization between Carls forces them to act more and more bizarre in order to differentiate themselves from the other Carls. In essence, the unpredictable and odd becomes predictable and mundane so new, dark and increasingly disturbing levels of Carlishness must be plumbed.

When asked for a comment on this theory, Virtuous Carl responded with, "what?" and adopted a confused and dumb-founded look proving that he, too, may have been infected. Clearly, the Carls are not overly troubled by this new development, but others may be well-advised to stay clear of them for the time being, particularly if you aren't a fan of drooling and seizure-like dancing moves.

Names Awarded the Carl Seal of Approval #6

Koahm the Weary