Painful pasts, forgetful futures, tremendous torture

To be honest with everyone, that title is the most random thing that's ever managed to escape the perils of my mind.

On second thought: No, no, it's not.

feeving: an object or activity that gives one pleasure, but not without regret

I made a word, because nobody else will use (me included).

Some ask me why I write so much, some ask me why my posts are so damn inconsistent, and others don't like asking questions so they let their true feelings boil and mix inside of their intestines. Writing is what I'm good at. Turning stray words into family-like phraises and paragraphs has never given me too much difficulty, but at the same time, it's fun. You should try it, really. Now most of you reading this know me in a personal/real life sense; you've seen me/touched me/insulted my ways and habits. So I feel no need at all to explain myself.

...but to those who have no fucking clue about my idenity: Hi, I'm Brett(zki Warx). This is my website (or blog, to be specific check the links foo!) and it would be plentyful and vast had I the time to give it deserving attention and love. It will, eventually, maybe, hopefully be plump with fun someday...

Fuck personal reflection: I write because I talk to damn fast and mumble more than Milton with his lips caught in a mousetrap. There, my struggles with speaking are made public.

Have a nice day and remember:
"Hate is just really, really worn down tolerance."

What the fuck does that mean,
Brettzki

Neither Nerf nor Nothing.

If it wasn't for Penny Arcade, life for me would be drab, ordinary and unfortunately relyant on sports. This would lead to JHF sucking and likewise mu sense of humor, although it seems that isn't so stellar, either. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday (or "the Odd Days of the week" as they should be called) a new strip and corresponding news briefing from the creators falls to the internet, brightening millions of people and their respective days.

*segue

A particular strip caught my eye to what could possibly be a new hobby, NERF. It was odd seeing my middle-aged heroes play with toy guns, let alone become engaged in full-out battles for pride and maybe even prejudice. I decided to purchase my first Nerf gun since my glory years of preteenhood, and after a breif visit to Target, the Maverick was in my hands, loaded and ready for anyone willing to eat foam-encased suckion cups.

After showing off the Maverick Rev-6, which I nicked named "Chester", a friend of mine suggested a novel but fucking awesome idea: a dorm-wide Nerf War. This excited me so much I searched the web for more shooters that could be added to my arsenal. What I ended up finding was a soceity of Nerf Warriors with battle strategies and modified guns. These customized blasters come with loads of variations from increased ammo, improved accuaracy and beefed-up firepower to the point of pain-giving. What I'm saying is:

People find ways to make Nerf Guns hurt others.

And you know what? That kicks ass. My inital want of a passtime has erupted into an adolescent obsession, and now I want more. More mods. More power. More Nerf. To this day, I only have a trio of guns. Chester is currently my go-to death-desributor while the Hidden Shot (approx. 10 years old) is being vamped up as we speak. The third and final is the Mad Hornet, a bulky semi-automatic driven by air. Unfortunately, it is of low quality and will serve as a decoration for now, sort of like Gene Keady's toupee'.

What will come of all this? No fucking idea.
What about the site? Nothing new, really.
What am I supposed to do without you? Ask Mikey Bolton

Rather the fan,
Brettzki

Jesus threw up the horns.

College football, a past obsession of mine, has come and gone, all the while I really didn't notice it was sprinting past. But as the national championship of the NCAA, the Rose Bowl, was played last night in Pasadena, something occured to me:

college football has become a showcase for stellar players and their equally great-egos. Since colons are so damn cool, this picture sums it up:

Seriously, he can't hear you. 


1. Individuality is what makes America America and not the United Colonies of Britian, and therefore everyone should strive for it, just a little at least. NCAA footballers love the concept of being a standout, and hey! What better way to accomplish that then by displaying countless nearly-worthless accessories? Between Texas (above) and USC (the other team in the Rose Bowl), the average gear count per player was somewhere between 4 and 17. If someone wore receiver gloves, numberous livestrong bands, a skull cap and socks on their arms, then they were the boring and unexpressive members of the team.

2. Vince Young (QB Texas) has to be the best college athlete in the millenium from what he displayed Wednesday. You won't get any stats, but you will get my word. His tremendous skills in football has earned him more followers than scientology and Islam combined. Say he wanted to modify the name of Austin, Texas (which hosts the University, population of 680,000) to "Vince Young, Texas." Not only is that accomplishable, but his word could overthrow the Federal government all together. Pretty soon we'll be living under his grace and power, bow down to Vince or you will get the bull and the horns!

Vince Young: Bitch, clean my shoes!
George Bush: Yes, master. *licks
VY: Faster!

America can only hope.

3. Extending paragraph numero uno a little bit, today's players also have the most extravagent celebrations not requiring any professional choreography or backflipping dogs. Every play results in some sort of showboating, whether it's subtle or unnecessarily long, and one can only imagine the amount of trash-talking involved in post-play scuffles and stare-downs.

Texas player #1: USC? That must stand for Ugly-Suckas-College!
USC player #1: Dude, you're from Texas.
Texas player #1:...
Texas player #2: Shut up surferboy!
*and the game continued, as scheduled.

Is this a blogpost dissing jocks and their athletic ways? No, not at all. It's a mere finger that points out all the unqiueness of college football, or the ones displayed in the Rose Bowl, at least.

Quote of the whatever:to."
"Thank you very much, Mr. Roboto."

Styx can and will sue me,
Brettzki on the evening of January the 6th.

Eat a bucket of tuna-liver catfood and wash it down with four gallons of Yahoo chocolate soda

Holy motherfucking elephant-shit, it's the 2006 after Christ. 2 milleniums ago, Jesus was learning about the world and the cruels ways of its people, but he probably already knew that. Things would go bad for Our Savior when, a few years later, he discovered his first pimple and pubic hair on the same day that his voice began to squeak.

Jesus fought his way through these awkward but normal changes, but during high school he found himself surrounded by temptation in the form of a mystical herb and a chemical that made people do stuff they wouldn't do elsewise. Luckily, he never got into that stuff as he stuck to healthier activities, like his involvement in his school's yearbook program.

And he went on to die for our sins, blah blah blah, end of this wannabe joke. 

*Cliche resolution post
1. Don't suck at life
2. Find new hosting plan
3. Learn how to draw, actually
4. Beat Kingdom Hearts II after forgetting about everything else in life
5. Defeat boredom

The Oh-Six only brings one huge thing that comes to mind: the almighty PS3, possibly more of a girlfriend that I'll ever know. Think about the qualities of the system for a second:

-Costly and expensive
-Time consuming
-Incredibly rewarding

The Playstation 3 can be compared to a woman such as Halle Barry: beautiful, dark, performs well. Meanwhile, the XBox 360's lack of size and quick release reminds me of the sexually-unnattractive-but-very-active Paris Hilton, who is now referenced on this site more than I am. Helen Degeneres...I mean the Nintendo Revolution, watches from the outskirts as this console cat fight that is the Next-gen War carries out over the decade, leaving entire bank accounts in their wrath.

That's right, I called the Revolution quirky and gay, but you know what? Homosexuality is cool, you fucking 'phobes.

Quote of Week:
"An escape is just a really, really good distraction"

Plastic exsistance,
Happy New Year, I mean Brettzki