Ever the swordsman

So yeah, Ganon doesn't have much to say after he got his face punctured by a silver arrow.

Then this wiseguy showed up...

Rest the pancreas,
Brett_Hero

Hungry like the Octorok

Tomorrow is the day before Christmas. The advent countdown of two dozen days will conclude, leaving mountains of torn wrapping paper, thousands of unused giftcards and clearanced outdoor decor. It's your chance to own a white wire reindeer for a minuscule $1.25; fulfill the dream, folks. Fulfill the dream.

Reflecting the entire Christmas season is a bitter process; most dread the month of December, despite its merry intentions, primarily due to costliness and time-consumption. People tend to forget that they are purchasing gifts for loved ones, heck, they act like existing between Thanksgiving and New Year's is absolute chore. Tempers elevate while good-wills dissolve into afterthoughts. It's hard to enjoy such a hostile time.

However, those who uphold their jolliness will experience an overall better season, especially ones oblivious to the viciousness and enmity of the holiday society. If you can ignore "I can't wait until Christmas is over" and "I hate Christmas" or "I'm a stuck-up joy-murder", you're in good shape for a bona fide Merry 25th.

"brett wut r ur planz????"

My "To-Do" Schedule is much longer than my Christmas Wishlist. The short break from school will definitelybe busy, but elephants are ususally grey.

On Christmas Day itself, I hope to accomplish an everyday, 8-bit feat.

I'm going to complete the Legend of Zelda in one sitting.

See?


On numerous occasions, I have played this game for hours, dominating dungeons and building Link up to a Texan powerhouse, only to have my save file be whiped when the console powers up incorrectly in a embarssingly minor fashion.

Someone could read a book in the 12 feet vicinity of the NES and all my hard work would be disintergrated.

But it's not going to happen again, no sir/ma'am. After the inital starting of the Nintendo/adventure, I'm not leaving the futon for anything except for pooping.

Ganon will be an outlet of vengeful rage.

Hear that, you silly colbalt swine? Vengeful rage.


Criticizing Q*Bert,
Brettzer and Brettzen

Side to wound

The Nintendo DS makes my happiness swirl and leaves the thumbs warmed up, ready for posing or wrestling or battle modeling.

Seriously, give Tyra Banks and that skank from Grand Forks a medieval weapons, then let then strut down the runway with flowing evening gowns.

Ratings would fly like a bird, they wanna fly away.

They don't know where their home is.

This is actually the first of a potential recurrance. Nothing screams "VARIETY!!11!1" like Blogging on Location, or BLOC, if you're tolerate compound acronyms.

My mother's intuition predicts quite a few posts from this computer, which is named 'Heather' and resides in a comfortably secluded office. It's not identically the same feel as my private quarters, but however, it features several benefits, including:

1. Digital Cam(corder) Access
2. Photoshop
3. Year's Supply of tissues

Should be a fag of fresh fun from Fargo, if friendly frogs frolic frantically.

The internet might appreciate this...


Kay is empty,
Brettocorus

Perpending by Numbers

The topical giant
began to wonder
whether or not
he existed.

He was definitely big in stature.
He was definitely big in heart.
He was definitely big in the pants.

But does big=there?

Size is a matter
of proportion,
proportion is a matter
of perspective.
Paper beats rock.

Our large chum
sat upon a mossy hill
because
giants live in the forest.
Everyone knows that.

He thought while he sat;
He sat while he thought;
Loveable, nonetheless.

If a chicken dies, it's lunch.
If a turkey dies, it's dinner.

Nothing applies to everyone.

Project yourself
while the
catapult
is loaded.

Startled by himself,
the giant decided to end the conflict
with a nice, lengthy nap.


Napulm kisses,
Brettocorn

Undeniable vapors

Camel humps.


Maybe I'll reflect back on my creative efforts of 2006, after I take a poop, of course.

Millions and tens of tax dollars are forked over so I can do this and recieve curricular credit. Suckers.

"lol kwearz only rly big fhegz paly t3h wii"

Holy shit, I feel bad for anyone.


Pure golden bucklack strippers,
Brett.

Trippingly coarse

That's it, no longer will my essays/novels/articles/poop start with terrible introduction sentences after long periods of self-conscious brainfarting.

When in doubt, I'm using mild to moderate profanity to spark the fire that lies within my left hand, a blaze only ignitable by means of motivational torches or lucky patterns.



I'm not confidentally sure who hand picks videos for YouTube featuring, but the human behind the variety is consistent -- consistently inconsistent, if you would -- and the mystery regarding his/her identity is more than likely simple and easily solved.

This doozie recently earned the honor and exposure of the homepage, causing some sort of stir in the process.

The video itself is dull, even if you understand its motive and overall theme. She's being sarcastic about sarcasm, see, and that's all she wrote/monolouged.

However, the comments are delightful; people frantically debated over the subject and countless friendships were unaffected. The public couldn't agree whether or not the girl meant what she so verbally said.

The title of the video was eventually changed to "IRONIC/SATIRICAL VIDEO ABOUT SARCASM THAT NOONE UNDERSTANDS", thus snipping the clash before it escaladed into a proportion.


But what if she did think that sarcastic videos should be labeled and cautioned? The conflict would drift into a state of omni-sarcasm, where one says what they mean, but don't actually mean it, etc, etc, etc. Or does one?



More's unfaithful,
Brett Jive do do do

Cobalt haze

The colors of the world are not fully visable; some will find others are terrible enemies while terrible enenies will find some others, but how will they distinguish factions when the opposing sides are Siamese Brothers, conjoined until a sudden swipe of society's chopping hatchet?

What makes a question?

The symbol that follows the otherwise statment is the typical categorizer.


Guitar Hero is certainly an irritating fad. I applaude its innovation, accessibility, accomodates a terribly vast pile of characters. It's easy to get sucked into, no matter your hairstyle or cutural background.

The game is of a social variety. Nothing like gathering around one or two of your friends as they statue their way through classic hits. Seriously, a lot of Guitar Heroes don't move anything but southpaw digits and the thumb of their dominate hand, all the while earning themselves favors, gazes and a couple thousand points.

DDR requires your body to be in constant motion, making a player of the game that much more enjoyable to view. A great Dancer Dancer Revolter will give you a great show with delicate timing and confident precision.

It's not fun to watch someone play Guitar Hero unless they pull the controller out of their rectum and begin to act like the game intended them to:

like a rock star, extravagantly wild and intense.

WWEVHD?

Juiced protagonist,
Brettchita State Shockers

Empathetic lecturing

The only plausible goal that remains is the preservation of our solid society for the sake of future generations, if not the current one or two. To accomplish such a task is to ensure our loved ones for decades of tomorrow and fulfill our natural debt to creation/God.


Next step on the way to chaos: treacherous scallions.

An exerpt for those finding the link unclickable/scary:

In Trenton, Nidhi Trikha stopped by an unaffected Taco Bell for a quick lunch Wednesday that included a chicken quesadilla and a bean chalupa -- but no green onions. After hearing about the outbreak, she said she was sorry she ate.

"I know fast food is always unhealthy, but it's quick and cheap," she said. "God, I hope I'm OK."

I guess I've grown accustomed to quoted interviews with individuals that actually hold some relavancy to the event/disaster/recall/concert/election/phone book distribution -- but hey, nothing says "modern" quite like senseless inquiring.

Look, a bridge fell on a person. Let's ask someone who crossed a bridge once, not necessarily the specific, collapsing valley-access-unit, no sir. We're going right to the source, approximately 57 miles away, far enough for obscurity, but still in the proximity of questionable relatedness.

Maybe everyone that unfortunately digested the vulgarly vile vegitables clamoflauged in a floured tortia just happened to be hospitalized, rendering my entire critique ignorant and embarassingly foolish.

Speaking of bashful idiocy...


The other next step to chaos: spontaneous advantage-swiping.

We all know where my last, next and preceding paychecks are going...

...better cap that sentence like a biyatch.


Not a double negative,
Brettview Heights

Attack of the overlooked

Patience is built upon refusing immediate pleasures.

Friends don't let friends pop collars.

Shift keys exist for a reason.


Papa pia,
Brett KK?

Step of intialization

To My Beloved Acquaintances
Your blind faith is truthfully appreciated and hopefully worthwhile of the time/money that has been consumed somehow by me or my efforts towards accomplishment. However, due to recent events, I feel that my decisions went against all I stand for. My conformity was shallow, cowardly and worst of all, ineffective.

I need to set something straight; little thought 456 of 1940 in the cranial archives.

The ACT's keep on messin' wit' me and mai krew yo!!

1. The ACT's are a measure of one thing: how well you do on the ACT's.
2. An essay that is to be completed in 30 minutes cannot and shouldn't reflect the composition skill of its creator.
3. You'd assume that $58 would cover more than a simple kick to the lower pelvis.

"ah brett u just st00pid i did g00d on the writing"

Exactly.

Is this frustration a byproduct of envy? Damn right. Is the envy necessary? It shouldn't have to exist in the first place.

If you excuse me, I have an empire to dismantle...


Red 69 lol,
Brettony

Strawberry opression

"brett u ever heer of utoob?"

If you're referring to YouTube, then I most certainly and unconfidentially have. However, if you actually mean something else, my response will not be nearly as confident for orangutangs frequently threaten my jugular with Gillete Fusions.

YouTube is a pretty important site; without its solid frame and massive bandwith power, some other site could have a true-blue dynasty.

Just pretend that sentance was a test-tube child and I decided against it. LIFE BEGINS AT EXPOSURE.

Ahem.

YouTube, due to its impressive size and power, is a hotspot for total dolts who are convinced that they are the second coming of the Shit, allowing them to post whatever they feel without the slightest care or proofreading.

A given video can have over 800 comments from 800 separate humans/robots, and it's a recurring trend to comment on previously-written comments. For example, let's pretend that this video is watched by our friend Nayte.

Seems regular enough to pass for normal, right?

Nayte sure likes this music video and decides to express his feelings:
Great song! Reminds me of old friends and Greece!

Meanwhile in somewhere else, Looke also views the clip, however his dislike for Hercules makes it a less pleasurable experience. He also sees Nayte's comment and makes one for himself:
meh, shitty movie, but its a decent song

This is 100% fine. It's merely two people telling the world what they thought of the above video. Self-centered if anything, but easily tolerable.

Suddenly, from the depths of foolishness, Orsen arises and checks out the music video, too, however, instead of paying attention to it, he immediately posts:
michael bolten is a no-talent assclown lol!

Does Orsen actually believe M-Bolt is a "no-talent assclown"? No, he doesn't. He watched Office Space and thought that scene was funny, and now he just wants to make people laugh by the only way he knows: Movie quotes.

That's fine though, many people live to recite lines in nonsequental order while socializing with chums.

Wait, what's this I spot? Oh no, it's the arrogant Kaiel, armed with with an unused shift key and the spelling of an embryo, he stumbles upon the video while surfing the site for badass skateboarding movies so he can finally show others his mad skills as he constantly big talks himself with enough fanfaronade to make Terrel Ownens look like a humble servant.

Kaiel's fingers the keyboard, and somewhere, an English teacher feels a sharp pain in his lower abdomen:
he sucks, im much better and im not gay

And the wheel goes round until it ceases rotation.

Smokey minerals,
Brett the destroyer

Vipers are snakes

Let's play "Stare at the Screen until Blogger and YouTube let bygones be bygones."


Or


THIS IS THE MOST INTENSITY ON THE WORLD!!1

RaWR


Handling the irresponsibilty,
Brett Protection Agency

Asking for a token of grattitude

Nothing pisses me off more than the bastardization of something I enjoy, like or adore. It's painful to see one of my favorite bands/games/fruits being trampled into the next big fad, especially if it's something from decades past.

Basically, I like liking things that the mainstream doesn't collectively like.

Like y'know?

There are certain people and groups to blame, however, and they won't get away from me that halphazardly. The following should be promptly fucked by a patio umbrella:

- Laguna Beach
- Cell Phone Ringers
- Guitar Hero
- Julian Fries


They should've given Steve Perry a bigger part in "USA for Africa".

Amazing drapes,
Brett skies.

Removing the numbers from the alphabet

Anticipation has somehow melted into despiration, a strenuous shift of losing hope and gaining pity, yet all the sorries in the world cannot be traded for my goal, my grail, my Wii of measurable attachment...


My facination with Michael Bolton was once based soley on farce; he sucked, and I argeed with all the shouters of 'hes a notalent assclown lol!' However, after repetition and careful analyzation, it seems that Michael Bolton actually appeals to my musical taste; he's catchy, vocal, over-emotional and, most importantly, hairy.

Can't fully explain the reason behind my sudden switch, although it was probably caused by Bolton's lack of a mainstream fanbase, like Fergie's Frendz or the Aaron Carter Army. Yes, Mikey B isn't the coolest cat in the neighborhood, but you can all rest assured that he is solidified in the hallowed bandwith of my own personal "FAV MUSIC" area on myspace.

How can we make love if we can't make amends?


Intercourse and Dishonesty


Thanks for my local grocer, I have consistent supplier of cheaply-created movies for an even cheaper price. The cost of one lonely dollar, the glory and honor of such movies can be mine to keep. The list includes:

-Blackbelt Jones II: The Tatoo Connection
-Lazer Mission
-Blood Fight
-Twisted Justice

The films are about an hour and a half of pure entertainment and serve as the ultimate pasttime with friends. You'll enjoy the jocularity when your homeboys are giggling at continuity errors, all the while ROFLing at awkward translation issues.

But don't take my word for it...


There's an Acoumetrist in the house,
Brettmonlee

Beast of laughter

A thin segment divides cruelty and necessity, two judgements that are only distinguishable by title and approval rating. Situational and inconsistent, the public often serves as the higher authority when dubbing the moral quality of actions, whether or not that's a good thing is determined by opinions, much like the discretion between cruelty and necessity.

I need to read more. For shizz.


On the topic of 2004 Olympic controversies, Paul Hamm, the male gymnist and (un)rightful gold medalist, is still muscular and his voice remains weakly high-pitched.

He was also on television this weekend, but not for anything related to the Greek Competitions or American cheaters, as all would expect. No, he was actually attempting to become only the second Ninja Warrior champion.

Ninja Warrior is a very Japanese program that takes specific qualities of American Gladiators, Old School and Enter the Dragon and throws it all into a seemingly illogical blender, only to produce a hyped obstacle-course competition.

To truly earn the status of Ninja Warrior, one must conquer the challenges of 4 sepeate and increasingly difficult strength/endurance tests, each with simple premises and tough conclusions.

Basically, it's a chance for athletic skinny dudes to showcase their talents and climb dangerously high monkey bars.

Entertaining, to say the least.

Paul's twin, Morgan (not Webb) Hamm, also tried his luck on the show.

Check it out!

In all respect, it's good to have lookalike siblings representing the nation, especially in a matter of sure body-power. Body-power?

Hit the books, me.


The things she eats are swallowing,
Brettiminium (pronounced Bre-tea-min-ee-oom)

Purchasing pelvic poop

Is anyone selling a kennel or stalworth chained leash? My hope keeps on running away and I don't feel like getting it spayed or neutered.

Put that in your retirement and smoke it, Bobby!

(photo of Robert Barker)


"Happy Feet" is an unexpectedly great film with well-rounded humor, a solid message, Queen, and most importantly, visual graphics that represent technological progress better than any of its fellow animated features. Seriously though, it's worth seeing unless you have the Testosterone level of a 2003 Jason Giambi, thus forbidding you to feel emotions and knees - but if that's the case, why aren't you injecting yourself/eating cement?

I never thought a movie built on the icy foundation of tap-dancing penguins would be even painfully entertaining, yet "Happy Feet" inspired thought and laughter via little fuzzy flightless birds. Strangely enough, my comments on the trailer weren't so positive:

"That movie is embarrassing to even think about."

Relatedly, the overall hype of "King Kong" had me in a state of "Monkey Madness" as Peter Jackson's revision of the early-1900's classic was sure to be epically monstrous and revolutionary. Then the show came to theaters, and these words marches out of my agape jaw:

"This movie is 3 and a half hours of disappointment and awkwardness."

Another reference to the classic quote of "You can't judge a book by its cover and giant trailers don't make giant movies."

Plus, baby penguins are absolutely precious cutitans, warmly huggable and feathered cap-a-pie.


Subtracting pictures,
Brettocrat