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]]> General http://poopgang.com/index.php?itemid=17 Mon, 21 Apr 2008 01:12:11 +0100 http://poopgang.com/index.php?itemid=16
I'll start by talking about an area I have some experience in, criticisms made of men, by women. I've heard from various female acquaintances of mine, that men are immature, like children, unable to understand complex emotions, and still laugh at fart jokes and other such things. Well, first off, whilst I will admit that the odd escape of rectal gas, at just the right moment, can be about the funniest thing in the world, women are in no position to criticise. Sure farting's a little bit gross, but, and no word of a lie here, I've heard women talk to each other about their menstruation, and that's way more disgusting. I was in a pub once, and overheard two of the ladies sat on my table holding a private conversation with others around, which was pretty rude in first place, where one of them divulged that she was menstruating right there, in public! Thank goodness there were no children around.

Secondly, women say we men never grow up, we remain immature, but I'd like to draw your attention to what inspired this rant in the first place. A woman proclaimed that boys were banned from here show, because they smell and are stupid. Now, tell me, what does that sound like to you? The thoughts of a rational, mature individual, or an eight year old on the school playground? Exactly. When kids are younger, it's only natural for boys and girls to hate each other, they're only children, what other age group would consider kiss chase to be such a horrific experience? However, ten years later, and what's changed? The girls still hate the boys for all the same reasons, presumably because, the girls never grew up! That's right, it's the women who have failed to mature, stuck in the mind set of an eight year old, convinced they might catch cooties off a boy.

So, who's changed then? Yes, it's the boys. Now the men are no longer running about, kicking their female compatriots in the shins, but rather, attempting to grope their lumpy bits in clubs, because they know that cooties aren't real, and there's a chance to get laid, something laid down in our genetic material as essential to the furthering if the species, thus doing their bit for the greater good. Men don't care anymore, they'll accept anyone female, provided she's not fat or anything, or proper ugly, at least not without some alcoholic support. It's men who have become more accepting, willing to tolerate and most importantly open. We'll take anything with tits and a pulse, and won't discriminate otherwise, with silly notions of having your sights sets on a fictional, perfect woman.

So, women of the world, next time you decide to label all men folk as stupid, smelly and immature, look at yourselves first. Who are really the disgusting and immature ones? That's right, you. Oh yeah, and for God's sake, have a shave or a wax down there, or at least try to keep it in trim, honestly, it's like you think we'd enjoy a mid-munch floss.]]> General http://poopgang.com/index.php?itemid=16 Sat, 5 Apr 2008 14:48:30 +0100 http://poopgang.com/index.php?itemid=14
So essentially these chickens spend their entire lives trying to limp around in darkened barns. They’re not exactly the happiest fellas on the farm, in fact it’s probably true to say they are extremely depressed and hate life. If they had the abilities and resources they would be the type to self harm or write poems about blackened souls. They literally hate life.

Whereas at the opposite end of this chicken spectrum you’ll find the life loving free range birds. These chickens enjoy a ‘free and natural life’. They get to play about in the open air, even when they’re inside they delight in spacious environments. They can even play football if Mr Fearnley-Whittingstall is to be trusted. They’re having a whale of a time basically, proper happy chaps and chappettes.

It should be obvious where I’m going with this, right? For the slower people reading I’d best continue.

Right, so we have the emo battery chickens praying for death. And the super happy, free rangers having an awesome time and generally loving life. And then death day arrives.

The factory farmed chickens are sitting there, crying and hating life. When BAM! Their necks are snapped and heads are ripped off - or whatever the killing procedure may be, my research for this was non-existent. Their horrible life is finally over. They’ve finally been put out of their misery. No more suffering for them. Peace at last.

The free rangers, on the other hand, are happily strolling around their beautiful gardens. When BAM! Kill time for them. In their dying moments they see their joyful lives flash in front of their beady little eyes. And they think to themselves:

“Why? Why have they done this to me? Life was so great, I even had plans to meet up with the guys tomorrow and what about Barbara? I’ll never see my loved ones again…”

A heartbreaking thought, I’m sure you’d all agree. And that is why we can’t let Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall get away with his cruel plans to kill all those life loving, football playing, cheerful chickens. Let the emo chickens die instead. It’s what they want.
]]> General http://poopgang.com/index.php?itemid=14 Fri, 14 Mar 2008 14:17:27 +0100 http://poopgang.com/index.php?itemid=13 PS3)

As wonderful as the internet is, combined with the fact that it now seems even more widespread than the list of sexual conquests of that girl you knew who left school in year 9 to have a kid to her step-brother, it still seems to rattle the gaming community when a game requires internet access to be able to play it. It’s bad enough when a game like Bioshock was released on the PC, which requires the user to activate the product online upon install. A problem which, despite being printed in big bold letters under the essential reading that is the system requirements, still led to various games forums being flooded with queries such as “lol my copie of buyoshok dunt werk lol y not?” from the illiterate masses of the gaming world. Imagine then, the concern that must have been running through the heads of the kind chaps at Incognito Entertainment when they launched the multi-player only, online dominated, Warhawk.Warhawk (PS3)

As wonderful as the internet is, combined with the fact that it now seems even more widespread than the list of sexual conquests of that girl you knew who left school in year 9 to have a kid to her step-brother, it still seems to rattle the gaming community when a game requires internet access to be able to play it. It’s bad enough when a game like Bioshock was released on the PC, which requires the user to activate the product online upon install. A problem which, despite being printed in big bold letters under the essential reading that is the system requirements, still led to various games forums being flooded with queries such as “lol my copie of buyoshok dunt werk lol y not?” from the illiterate masses of the gaming world. Imagine then, the concern that must have been running through the heads of the kind chaps at Incognito Entertainment when they launched the multi-player only, online dominated, Warhawk.



To their credit, they did their best to stem the tide of morons by releasing a half price version of the game for download from the much derided PlayStation Network, ensuring that all the cheap skates who were likely to be trying for a refund would at least already be sure that it’ll work because they’re already on the net. This led only to a second problem, which was that those who opted for the retail version were forking out the full £40 for the same game. Compensation for this came in the form of a Bluetooth headset boxed in along with it. Finally, it seemed that headsets might become a real part of the PlayStation’s online experience, something Xbox players have been enjoying for quite some time now, even if it is just to listen to a pre-pubescent American boy offer to give your mother an aggravated, non consensual, seeing to. In the bum.



Sadly the communication features utilised in Warhawk seem to have something in common with your girlfriend, in that if you don’t hold down the right button, it won’t make a sound, on top of which, it’s a fiddly little button too, that you’re likely to lose hold of if things should get a little bit too frantic. Thankfully, also like your girlfriend, it’s capable of completely ignoring anyone at will. A stunted Push To Talk feature, irritatingly mapped to the L3 button; you know, the one which isn’t really a button, so much so it wasn’t even worth labelling it like all the others, like some kind of basket child left on the steps of the orphanage, nameless; means that you actually have to make a conscious effort of letting people hear you, so you won’t get any of the mate-accidentally-gets-killed-and-swears-loads-at-his-mum funniness, and god help you if you should want to try and move your character in any way whilst talking, because that pretty much guarantees you’ll switch the damn thing off. It’s only redeeming feature is the option to ignore certain players entirely, especially useful since Sony added a function to allow you to alter the pitch on your voice in game leading to half the players you encounter sounding like Darth Vader or one of the chipmunks of Alvin fame. These shortcomings seem to have been overlooked by many though, because you’re getting a Bluetooth headset for £20, and that’s a bargain. The two criticisms I have of that thinking are that it presumes £20 is a blindingly good price for what looks like a prop from Star Trek, which it isn’t, they’re just overpriced elsewhere and it looks better by comparison, and also giving something away for cheaper than normal shouldn’t be an excuse for it not working properly.



But I digress. Communication is really only a minor feature of a game like Warhawk, and the game suffers none for the somewhat quiet nature of most servers. Mostly because there’s little for the game to gain from improved communications. The maps are so huge, and the action so disperse, that there’s little possible in the way of organising team tactics. You’ll be able to spawn in a variety of locations in some game modes, and other, you simply begin at the back of your team’s territory. This usually means a lengthy run to the front lines, or if your lucky enough to find a stray plane or jeep knocking about, a much speedier jaunt through. Now here’s where I fear my ability to give an honest and balanced review of this game might go down the pan slightly. You see, I’m shit at this game. A typical match for me will involve spawning, spending a couple of minutes running to the front, getting shot and killed, spawning again, finding a plane, crashing into assorted bits of scenery, grabbing power ups that I’m unsure of how to use, getting shot down, spawning, getting in a tank, driving to the front, hitting the wrong button to fire, and getting blown up again. Watching myself repeatedly finish at the bottom of the score charts after each and every game has become something of a standard, so much so that on the one occasion where someone finished below me, I actually jumped to my feet in excitement with a little yelp, something that would no doubt have sounded hilarious over the microphone had it been on, and then gloated to myself about what a retard this other player must have been. Then a sense of realism began to sink in, and I decided he must just have joined the game in the last couple of minutes, and that I’d probably woken my housemate in the next room with my celebrations.



There’s nothing that’s truly broken with the way Warhawk controls, but I’ve completely failed to settle into one of the available styles of play. I’ve heard other players go on and on about how some prefer to play on foot, whilst others will only engage in aerial combat. This is something I’ve completely failed to adapt to, as I feel that in a game which has all this variety, why the hell should I not play as a little bit of each? Team Fortress is the perfect example of this, where, although most people will have a class preference, it’s almost expected that you will swap and change based on what’s appropriate at the time. Unless you want me to play as the spy, then you can fuck right off, stealth is to be reserved exclusively for pussies, and Solid Snake. The problem is, Warhawk controls each aspect fine, but changing from vehicles, to planes to shanks pony can be somewhat disorienting, and the fact that there are two different flight mode just leaves me all different shades of confused. Was it really necessary to make it so disjointed when you want to switch between flight and stationary modes?



Personal game play issues aside, it’s still a very fun package, and great for those moments when you want a bit of multiplayer fun, but all your real mates are more interested in going out and talking to girls, or boys, or the local wildlife. As online is pretty much the only mode available, because let’s face it, split screen is a thing of the past, you can always find plenty of busy servers going, and they’re pretty reliable right now too. With future patches on the way, implementing APCs and Halo 3-esque bubble shields, there’ll be plenty to drag back the older players who may have since moved on, so they can come along and blow you all across the floor.

This one gets a Stalingrad out of a possible Bay of Pigs.]]> Entertainment http://poopgang.com/index.php?itemid=13 Wed, 12 Mar 2008 23:58:45 +0100 http://poopgang.com/index.php?itemid=12
Of course, Guiliani had 'front-runner' status for months before the first primaries... but then people started to vote. Has a campaign with such major backing ever died so miserably? Despite the fact that I hate Guiliani, and thought he would've screwed up the world even more than Bush, the most exciting thing about that is that no-one saw it coming. Like everything else in this campaign. Indeed, no-one saw Edwards pulling out as soon as he did, and no-one saw the evangelical Huckabee winning a single state. If I were an American news anchor, I would probably say something clichéd like "It's been a rollercoaster ride"; many have.Let me say, first of all, that this race has completely captivated me, and all for very positive reasons. It's been a constant surprise; in a country where the multibillion dollar news industry heavily invests in polls, projections and analysis, surprise is nothing short of remarkable. I'll list a few choice blunders by the news networks; Hillary Clinton is 'inevitable', John McCain's campaign is 'finished', and everything will have been decided after 'Super Tuesday'. All complete bollocks. The script has been thrown out; Bush's tenure of awfulness has driven far more people to vote at this early stage, and the desire for change is what I'd put these shocks down to.

Of course, Guiliani had 'front-runner' status for months before the first primaries... but then people started to vote. Has a campaign with such major backing ever died so miserably? Despite the fact that I hate Guiliani, and thought he would've screwed up the world even more than Bush, the most exciting thing about that is that no-one saw it coming. Like everything else in this campaign. Indeed, no-one saw Edwards pulling out as soon as he did, and no-one saw the evangelical Huckabee winning a single state. If I were an American news anchor, I would probably say something clichéd like "It's been a rollercoaster ride"; many have.

Other highlights have included dubious 'crying'. Yes, that's what the media reported it as.



I found Romney's dropout speech particularly hilarious; the audience sound particularly let down. Perhaps he should've handpicked some people who were more indifferent to his campaign. He also tries to blame almost every problem the country has ever had on the Democrats. And France.



But right now, at least some of the uncertainty has gone. John McCain has the Republican nomination tied up. How he won has numerous talking points, though. Firstly, unlike his major opponents, he did not use the politics of fear as the backbone of his campaign. Unlike Rudy Guiliani, he has never proudly stated that he would bomb Mecca if he had to. Unlike Mitt Romney, he has never suggested gay marriage is a threat to families, or that a Democratic President would let terrorists run amok. His voting record in Congress could not be described as that of a hardliner. Despite missing all these 'qualities' usually required of Republican candidates, he is running away with it. As a European who would like to see the rest of the world remain intact, I am glad to Americans finally reject the hyperbole and moral absolutism of the Bush era.

Despite all that being sewn up, the Democratic race is still very much wide open, despite being dwindled down to two candidates; Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton. Obama has won the last 11 caucuses, but they have all been very close. With the system the Democrats use, where candidates win delegates based on the proportions of the vote, this means both candidates are just over halfway to the required amount, and there is only a 5% difference between them. So Obama has the edge, but anything could happen, really.

Tomorrow there are four caucuses; Texas, Ohio, Vermont and Rhode Island, in order of importance. Texans in particular had been complaining that, given many other primaries had moved up to 'Super Tuesday', they would have less clout than in years before. Events have conspired to mean that they now have much more. At any rate, the candidates are ratcheting up their campaign machines using the obscene amounts of money they have raised ($35m for Clinton and $50m for Obama just over the past month) for TV ads, magazine spreads and such things. Here's two examples;





For once, the script seems to be correct. Obama is younger and therefore more inexperienced, so he's running on a platform of change. For example, he's made the point that Cheney and Rumsfeld, the architects of the failed Iraq war, had the longest CVs of anybody. Clinton, on the other hand, appears to be making the point that there's no point in promising change, if you don't know how to follow through and produce that change. This has been the dialogue between the two throughout the campaign, and even more so in recent times; Clinton criticises Obama for never having done the hard work in Washington, Obama attempts to counter this, or simply tries to take the high road of positive politics.







Obama, after seeing that last clip, simply remarked 'sounds good'. Witty, but I think some people could see his unwillingness to engage Clinton, in the way she wants, as somewhat aloof. Clinton's negative campaign will either work or backfire; I don't like it, but I have no idea if the electorate feel the same way. We'll find out later today, I suppose.

Finally, prediction time; Obama will take Ohio and Vermont, Clinton will take Texas and Rhode Island. Whatever outcome, though, I don't see this being the end of the battle between these two. May it continue; it's bloody entertaining.]]> General http://poopgang.com/index.php?itemid=12 Tue, 4 Mar 2008 17:45:40 +0000 http://poopgang.com/index.php?itemid=7 Aneurin Games: Paper Plane

Very addictive and made by the forum's very own Aneurin. Play now! ]]> Poop Gang http://poopgang.com/index.php?itemid=7 Thu, 28 Feb 2008 12:00:00 +0000 http://poopgang.com/index.php?itemid=10
Poop Gang Presents...

Gianni's Victory Dance


Click "Read More" below for "Cleaning Scotty" & "Sprouty's dance".

Poop Gang Presents...

Gianni's Victory Dance


Cleaning Scotty


Sprouty's Dance


More from the recent Poop Gang meet soon! ]]> Poop Gang http://poopgang.com/index.php?itemid=10 Thu, 28 Feb 2008 12:00:00 +0000 http://poopgang.com/index.php?itemid=6 PS3, 360)

The Club is a game that reminds me of myself. It’s shallow, very shallow, and makes no attempt to hide this. It plants itself firmly in the “shooting stuff in the face for points” camp, and refuses to budge. There is some kind of plot to do with the game’s namesake, an organisation that seems to have an endless supply of body bags, as they organise these kill-fests for profit. Quite why, I’m not sure, but they do say boredom can be a terrible thing. As for the characters, each one seems to have a single sentence background summary to them, and that’s all, varying from being an undercover cop trying to take The Club down from within, who oddly seems just as comfortable mowing opponents down in their hundreds along the way, to just being a moron who thinks he’s exhausted every other possible activity with which to consume his free time, so decided to become a gladiator for a bit of a laugh.
The Club (PS3, 360)

The Club is a game that reminds me of myself. It’s shallow, very shallow, and makes no attempt to hide this. It plants itself firmly in the “shooting stuff in the face for points” camp, and refuses to budge. There is some kind of plot to do with the game’s namesake, an organisation that seems to have an endless supply of body bags, as they organise these kill-fests for profit. Quite why, I’m not sure, but they do say boredom can be a terrible thing. As for the characters, each one seems to have a single sentence background summary to them, and that’s all, varying from being an undercover cop trying to take The Club down from within, who oddly seems just as comfortable mowing opponents down in their hundreds along the way, to just being a moron who thinks he’s exhausted every other possible activity with which to consume his free time, so decided to become a gladiator for a bit of a laugh.

null

So long as you’re not looking for a compelling interactive novel or a character you’ll even remember the name of, then you’ve overcome the first obstacle this game presents. There is no reason to criticise SEGA here though, as the game simply doesn’t need a story. They could easily have bowed down to the growing trend of making your game seem like a movie with interactive sections in between, but thankfully, they stuck to what they do best, which was to create a proper arcade shooter. Something you can pick up and play for as little as five minutes, or even a couple of hours. It delivers every time, and won’t penalise players who haven’t put the hours in. However, you can easily tell who does. One glance at the online leader boards shows just how many points are available in this game, with truly astronomical numbers stretching far down the table. On your first few plays through, you’ll feel delighted to be racking up total scores of a million or so, but those more competitive out there will consider that small fry. Those obsessive, high score chasing, purists will be the ones playing levels over and over, burning the location of every enemy into the back of their retinas, learning all the secret skull shot positions, until eventually they’re playing on autopilot, watching scores rocket through the ceiling, like some kind of comatose adding machine.

null

That being said, the single player modes are mostly enjoyable to anyone of any skill level. The enemies come at you thick and fast, but it’s like you’ve been presented with an ant hill and magnifying glass. Sure you’re outnumbered, but you’re practically Clark Kent. You hurtle round a level, taking out foes in no more than a handful of shots, whilst you should be left to resemble something like a giant Swiss cheese, as they come at you from all sides and pepper you relentlessly. But even the weakest characters are capable of absorbing enough lead to keep the US Army rampaging all the way to North Korea.

This is what makes the multiplayer mode feel so strange by comparison. You go on expecting more of the same, except now it’s not kid with magnifying glass versus hundreds of ants, it’s kid with magnifying glass versus seven other kids with magnifying glasses. Except the kids actually have a tonne of firepower behind them. And Kevlar vests. This changes the style of play completely. You have to think tactically, which is not what this game is about, but it is about the only time character stats play a major role.

null

Speaking of which, character selection in the single player game is more a case of experimentation and personal preference. Personally, I can’t stand the mandatory, battle tank like, slow but strong characters. When it comes down to it, all the characters can take insane amounts of damage and guns deal out much the same too, so I choose the obligatory, speedy little Asian guy, Kuro. The tournament mode means that, ultimately, whoever you choose, they’ll be suited to some tasks, but not others. For instance, Kuro is great for the sprint levels, but when you’re confined to remain within a tiny boxed off area with no cover, and have to outlast the timer, he tends to let the side down a little. You could always pick the all-rounder, Finn, but like most all-rounders, he’s just a bit rubbish, and also a broke gambling addict, why the hell would you want to be that?

The Club's dirt little secret, Nemo. As though hosting underground death matches wasn't a dirt eough secret.

As for how the game looks, it’s certainly well polished, and looks fantastic in motion. Some of that impact is lost if you slow down, although if you’re doing that, you’re probably playing it wrong anyway, as the low detail on certain objects seems to stand out a bit. Audio’s nothing special, the sound track is generic, and the limited voices that there are in the game sound cheesy yet somehow fitting. The less said about The Club Secretary the better, suffice to say, he sounds and looks like he wouldn’t be out of place in the clergy.

Things can get a litte, heated.

How much you enjoy this game depends largely upon how happy watching a number be multiplied by an ever increasing coefficient makes you, although it works fine as something mindless if you’re after a quick fix in the middle of something else. It’s certainly not for those who are after a little more depth, however, and it’s for this reason that I’m a little sceptical of the full £50 price tag. If you can find it knocking around for £25 or so, then grab it, but only fork out full whack if you’re one of those rabid, “just one more go” arcade enthusiasts, who longs to see their name atop ten others.

Top quality arcade shooting, that doesn’t hide what it is, although multi-player offers something that doesn’t quite seem to fit right. Great if you like the idea of filling a mass grave single handed and being incredibly competitive, less so if you want a relaxing and intellectually stimulating time, but then you probably wouldn’t be here anyway. Three teddies.

]]> Entertainment http://poopgang.com/index.php?itemid=6 Wed, 27 Feb 2008 13:40:32 +0000 http://poopgang.com/index.php?itemid=5 Where are we?
I can tell he knows I'm here because my back is against his.
I don't have a fucking clue.
Well where do you think we are?
How the fuck am I supposed to know?
I'm aware that I swear too much, it's something I can't really help. This isn't much of an issue at the moment, however, not when we're both sitting down, facing away from each other trapped in the dark somewhere.
I hear a voice from above and in front.
Wakey wakey.
A cold, clammy voice. Strangely familiar. It continues.
Do you know where you are?
Neither Jason nor I say anything. We don't know where we are.
I'll tell you where you are. You're in a very dark room. The room has no doors or windows. All you have is each other and the table which you haven't noticed yet. You have ten minutes to escape. If you don't escape within the ten minutes the hidden nozzles in the walls will release cyanide gas and you will die. The only way to stop the timer is to escape from the room. Do you understand.
We mumble Yes. We understand.
Good. Then let the panic begin.
Click. The timer is started. The lights illuminate. The room is, as the Voice said, barren concrete. No distinguishing features are on the walls, ceiling or floor. There is the table which, until now, we hadn't noticed. We notice it now, however.
Jason speaks.
Now what, Tim?
How about we try to fucking escape, Jason?
Care to suggest how? Have you actually looked at where we are?
You always were a fucking quitter, weren't you? We haven't even started and already you've given up.
Well what have we got to work with? A table? Oh, wonderful. Let's escape with a sodding table, shall we? Yeah, let's hope the table turns into a magic bloody portal and allows us to escape.
Don't be so childish Jason. I...
I hesitate and ponder. I ponder whether Jason's throwaway remark about portals may not be as silly as he first thought. I began to form a plan. It involves nothing but our own ingenuity and the table.
Jason, rub your hands together. Tell me when it hurts.
Even before I asked the question, I guessed that his natural reaction would be to ask Why.
Why?
As usual, I was right.
Because I asked you to. It's part of our escape.
How the hell are we going to escape because I rubbed my hands together? It's absurd.
Absurd it may seem, but if you don't do it then you know what will happen.
Jason sighs. He was never one for doing things he didn't understand.
Okay, but I still think you're a fruitcake.
He rubs his hands together in the same way he would if he were preparing to create one of his famous culinary creations. He keeps on rubbing and rubbing until his hands begin to turn a deeper shade of pink.
They're hurting, Tim. This had better be bloody worth it.
I ignore Tim's whining as I manoeuvre him towards the table which accompanies us in this apparent prison.
Rub the table.
Now you're being silly.
Just rub the fucking table, Jason.
What the hell for?
Fucking rub it.
Jesus, calm down, Tim. You'll give yourself a hernia at this rate. All right, I'll rub the table if it'll make you feel any happier, just stop getting so worked up.
I watch as he begins to move his hand backwards and forwards over the wooden table. It seems to be working. His hands are sore so they're cutting through the table effortlessly. I tell him to keep going, don't stop, keep going until the table's sawn in half. He keeps going, doesn't stop, the friction is increasing. I can see Jason's brow furrow and his eyes close as he saws. He doesn't stop, keeps sawing, keeps going until the table cracks into two pieces of equal size and shape.
Perfect, Jason, fantastic.
I congratulate Jason. He looks in a great deal of pain, mostly friction burns.
It's okay, Jason, I think I can take it from here.
From here escape will be easy. The table was lying on the floor in two halves. He picked the pieces up and, seemingly undoing all of Jason's hard work, placed the two pieces together. But instead of making a table, the two halves fused to create a new entity which existed but didn't really exist – a hole. Jason was stunned.
I'm stunned.
Now do you see what I was doing? Your sore hands cut through the table and I had a feeling the two halves would make a hole.
You're a bloody genius.
Tim and Jason jumped through the hole and escaped from the room with three seconds to spare.]]> Entertainment http://poopgang.com/index.php?itemid=5 Mon, 25 Feb 2008 01:35:19 +0000 http://poopgang.com/index.php?itemid=4 Oh the funfair, oh the noise, oh the rapturous applause!

Or not. The Poop Gang re-launch was set to be a big occasion with a mass of newly added content, big flashing images & a free stripper for every visitor. It was also originally due in five days time, so shut your pie hole.

What the re-launch has done is simply set a base for all future content. It is now incredibly easy for any site contributor to upload content directly to the front page of the site. I dare say that we’ll see tweaks to the site design over time too, but what we have now is a decent looking site with all the functions needed to be community based and regularly updated. Exactly what the site will become is anyone’s guess, although anyone who remembers the old versions will have a good idea of the direction I’d like to take it. I can’t say what you’ll see on here over the coming months, but I can promise you’ll see more content then ever before.

Oh, and if you’d like to take part, see the forum. Any idea is welcome. ]]> General http://poopgang.com/index.php?itemid=4 Wed, 20 Feb 2008 11:52:01 +0000