Jack High Blog

Skipping to Victory

2007-03-26T18:38:00.000-07:00

Satisfaction is a compromise.

It's the last week of March. My favorite month of the calender year was elusive and committed to efficiency, as I only now notice how quietly it has zipped past.

March is the most active period for hoops. By 'hoops', my intention was to make a hip/fresh reference to the legitimate sport of basketball, but apparently I should leave modern lingo up to the kids. Basketball seasons of all levels begin to conclude, highlighted by the top amateur league in the nation, the NCAA.

The NCAA Men's Basketball tournament has grown popular over the years, drawing fans from all over the country to view the spectacular showings of athleticism and racial turnabout. In fact, many American gentlemen wager money on the event, most frequently in mass gambling collections known as 'pools'.

I myself have tried my luck in one of these 'pools', and let me tell you: it sure makes the games more interesting for an otherwise uninterested chum such as yourself!

A few points:

1. Ohio State University is Wanted for Murder
I have 3 distinct brackets in 3 separate pools, each with a certain team finding somewhat unexpected success. The Ohio State Buckeyes, with their treelike treachery, have found ways to snip two thirds of my hopeful champions.

First they took out Xavier, my dark horse that was sure to make all the ladies want me in their arms again. The Musketeers from Cincinnati (Xavier) had the Buckeyes (OSU) physically, literally, and spiritually beaten. All it would take is a simple foul shot and the #1 see in the South Regional would fall, just as I expected.

Nope. Those Columbus bastards won.

Then came Tennessee, the 5th seed with momentum and the featured actors in my bracket, "I Actually Put Some Thought Into This One". The Volunteers scored 126 points in their first-round slaughtering of Long Beach State (the Dirtbags were cleaned out LOL) only to take out the respectable Virginia Cavaliers in a much closer contest. OSU were the next in line, and TU surprised many with a twenty point lead as the initial half came to a close. It wasn't a quiet twenty points, either. The Volunteers were everywhere, making the Buckeyes look like a couple of white kids in snowboots. Point of the matter, the men in that indescribable orange color were rollin'.

Nope. Ohio State won with a frustratingly effective comeback.

Which brings me to...

2. Who Told this Guy to Shoot the Ball No Matter How Many Opponents were in the Way?

Players just don't know how to set up game winning shots any more.

The Buckeyes slit two of my allies' throats, and now they have their knives at Georgetown's jugular, sharply ready to end all my hope for cash winnings.

Now I must place my dreams in the capable hands of Patrick Ewing's offspring.

May your April be fertile and untouched.

Denounce the ending,
Brettalottapuss

Cool calm clam

2007-03-12T18:21:00.000-07:00

I live as though a cursed object is causing all my woes, and all troubles will cease if the talisman is promptly removed or at least transferred to another's possession.

This means I'm crazy.

It's been a while...since I've posted on sequential evenings, but it feels good to do so.

Yeah.

It does.

Looking forward to something has always been the key to my motivation; the thought of better times ahead kept me moving/grooving. Looking backward is a suitable replacement, although it's proven to serve as an unnecessary pit stop.

The coolest thing before sliced bread was probably a bread slicer.

Musketeers all the way.

Avoiding avoidance,
Brett Bubbles

In a Sentence

2007-03-11T19:04:00.000-07:00

Overwhelm yourself
with the overwhelming warmth
of fucking up.

Maybe someday
you'll figure out that
you're not a contraction
at all.

Two discrete words,
discreetly obvious.
It's not meant to be
that way.

For one, they do not
share a language of origin, nor a pronunciation.

But damn. They were effective.
Closing gaps, filling space
and your face.

Grammar police wooo woo wooo.

Act like I'm nothing.
Act like I'm garbage.
Act like I'm obscure.
Act like I'm nothing.

It's easy being nothing.

Sprint to your doom,
Brettiatus

Legacy Estates

2007-02-22T14:09:00.000-08:00

Sometimes you just gotta publicly say:

"Holy shit, I'm a big loser."

To me, the word 'loser' is a precursor to 'failure', a title awarded to those constantly thigh-deep in a pit of either inadequacy or self-pity.

It's a good time to be a loser.

A few things...

My new favorite cereal

...balls. That's not even the right kind. I swear the boxes are identical.

Imagine frosted flakes with subtle strawberry tongue-ticklers, endorsed and engraved with a half-dozen heroins from your cherished childhood chronicles.

Simple, tasty, satisfying AND IT TURNS YOUR MILK PINK.

What's weird about my love for Disney Princess Fairytale Flakes is my initial loathing of its flavor, which isn't spectacular...BUT DOES LUCKY CHARMS HAVE THE APPROVAL OF SNOW WHITE I DON'T FUCKING THINK SO.

CHEATERS
Cheaters is a reality television program bases on two-way deception. Racial Stereotypes can expose their unfaithful others by means of spy-cameras and nonlethal hitmen. After gathering evidence, the 'cheatees' can seek the truth/revenge with an incriminating intervention, complete with brawls and enough screaming to make Slipknot look like Rockapella.

The host is the most entertaining aspect, however. His name is Joey Greco, he excels at broke sentences and starting fights when there otherwise isn't a need for one.

Buy his t-shirt!!

They'll learn.

Spanish Politics,
Brettamonopia

Ripping some old ones

2007-02-11T16:51:00.000-08:00

People have actually blamed my Blog for Lance Bass's sexual choice unveiling.

I happened to mention *NSync's appropriately named bass singer in a typically amateur Blogpost, mostly as a "think of a celebrity" reference. He's always been my favorite member of the defunct boy-band due to his shyness and Brett Favre appraisal, so including him seemed fine enough.

Notice how the post was BEFORE his came out of the closet.

I'll admit that it was a bit eerie; Lance was not in the news prior to his famous cover-shot and headline quote and having a random reference be the talk of the press makes me ponder a little harder than I should.

As stated before, several individuals scorned my blog for "turning Lance gay". Just to prove them wrong, here is one thought/item regarding every OTHER member of *NSync and we'll see what happens.

JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE

This makes up for Sexyback...well, almost.

JC Chasez

Look, a self-proclaimed classic!

JOEY FATONE

Joey plans to star alongside Lance (Bass) in a new sitcom, scheduled to begin airing sometime in 2007. The show will be broadcasted on the CW Network, which is apparently the hybrid of the WB and UPN (think of it as a mixed-race couple's baby.) How the network will advertise is beyond me, although I personally suggest a "Ghetto Emo" approach.

CHRIS KIRKPATRICK

Chris's last name is a combination of Star Trek Captains (James T. KIRK played by Billy Shatner and Jean-Luc Picard played by PATRICK Stewart). This means his ancestors were not only trekkies, but ORACLE TREKKIES, for they could see the future of science fiction AND dedicate themselves to it.

There. Science will carry out the rest.

Standing logs could be sliding frogs.

Jealous buoyancy,
Brettsten Warx

Exposition to a marriage

2007-02-07T17:01:00.000-08:00

It's like talking to the next stall: you have no idea whether a person is occupying the porcelain throne, but you maintain your conversational efforts without the concrete evidence of another party.

Maybe it's time I look myself over for wasting too much time looking myself over. Certain areas of me feel they must compensate for violent procrastination, while others are entirely spontaneous, living life as the page turner turns the page.

How can one be persuaded when they are having a hella time convincing themselves? Dramaturgy's posterchildren exist everywhere at every time, usually oblivious to their lines or blocking, although they consistently execute perfectly.

Shit, opening night is merely upon us.

Perhaps my Blog should be topical, with current events and Michael Jackson rips.

"datz not hiz real noze!!"

Publish my violet innards, day after week.

Jolly chlorine,
Brett (Riggasluffsus poseur)

Or Real

2007-01-30T18:53:00.000-08:00

Do it yourself
Nothing says independence like a little independence
and I'm not talking about
a city in Missouri.

Someday, blindness will cease
Leaving myself and my dogs
barking at the Sun, assuming
it's the Moon.

But it's not.

It's fucking not.

All the time
the way is found
to Maximize me into
something else. A something else
that is efficiently upset
like a tortured clam.

A shellion that remains
to be subtly obvious and ruthlessly grim,
yet innocently hopeful and kind as a Kennedy.

Don't take the lead when it's not mine.

Undefeated only means
You're not seasoned.

Or real.

Malice Alice,
Brett from the Set

Disguised animatronics

2007-01-29T17:14:00.000-08:00

Beast Wars FTW.

THREE POSSIBLY CONTROVERSIAL DEFENSE STATEMENTS
REGARDING THE ABOVE CLAIM

1. An extra dimension.

For those not familiar with the 12-year old 3D Transformers spin-off featuring our favorite robots turning into and infro RL animals, Beast Wars is a 12-year old Transformers spin-off featuring our favorite robots turning into and infro RL animals.

Back in 1995, the only things that utilized height, width AND length were StarFox and Captain EO. Truly, times were flat.

But then, seeming from nowhere (Canada), an extraordinary television program found its way to the airwaves, showing viewers a glimpse of the future.

In short, it's prettier.

2. "Character Development"

The quotations are to emphasize the foreign concept to the 80's series. Transformers (Generation 1) was almost a cartoon toy commercial, with new goodies and baddies alike being added at a constant flow, making episodes feel shallowly cluttered. The characterization of the numerous mechanical players varied over time, however it was seemingly random and unexplained.

Beast Wars, on another hand, originated with five soldiers for both factions, each with a different sense of motivation, loyalty and sexual preference. With fewer characters, the writers were able to focus of specific relationships and qualities, allowing them to grow like organic warts.

Beast Warriors actually died, too. You may be saying

"but bret optimuz diez in the moo-v!!1"

This is not a lie. In fact, several central character die in Transformers: The Movie. They're immortal otherwise, with zero deaths in the rest of the series. Beast Wars let you feel more than yourself.

3. HOT CHICKS
THIS IS A QUESTION FOR MALES/LESBIANS
Which do you prefer?

or

Disagree and drink a slurpee.

Deranged sanity,
Brettizod

Knowing utopia

2007-01-25T19:20:00.000-08:00

Maybe rainbows are not actually the museum showcase of the 1976 Cleveland Barons...

...but then what in the politically-correct hell are they?

A few weeks back, a friend and I began debating. This wasn't any sort of religious clash, nor was it a battle of morals, it wasn't even a matter of collegiate sports. No, it was much cooler than that. Much cooler. Despite passionate opinions, this conflict had gone untouched for years, a surprisingly lengthy and inactive comatose for such a crucial question.

Which is better: TRANSFORMERS or BEAST WARS?

There is an answer.

Profoundly innocent,
Bretters

Giving it back

2007-01-21T14:03:00.000-08:00

It's due time to write about a preferable topic, or at least create my own damn prompts for a change.

Feel free to use these without fear...

Could someone use a douche to water plants?

Are there actual bears in Chicago?

Fires are caused by certain chemicals. Do you feel such chemicals can spark sexual interest?

I like pineapples but my friend likes homogenous bread. Is there any hope of redemption?

What is cheap?

If you could make a word, how would it spelt (include language of orgin) and what it mean?

When do you expect Power Rangers to finally deal with abortion and gay marriage?

What weapons would increase the vitamin definciency in modern house cats?

My printer is yelling at me. Where did it learn to talk?

Finally, somebody spliced an "i" with an "r" to make an irrigator.

Mandating laxatives,
Bretthomas

Brightness falls

2007-01-15T20:12:00.000-08:00

Some visuals have the capabilities to etch self-dobut and utter malice into our daily planners.

This could be one of those:

Develop the anticolon before it's past your bedtime.

Marveled witness,
Brett*~*

Mending the debate

2007-01-10T08:11:00.000-08:00

As a person of momentariness, specific issues randomly obstruct my path (much like FF hellions); topics that are too meaningful to ignore without the guilt of a thousand Anna Nicole references.

It's time to unleash my thoughts.

Today's Quarrel
Superman vs. Godzilla

A common complaint against the Superman series refers to the Man of Steel's godliness; he's infallible in battle and nothing of this world can cause him harm, not even his own Nintendo 64 game.

We all know that Superman has a weakness in the solid form of a neon kelly rock. Too bad it's more precious than a Playstation 3 (IRONY!!!2)

Godzilla, on the other spectrum, is quite suceptible to a wider variety of attacks and missiles, although his stamina and will can rival that of Rocky Balboa (MOVIE REFRANCE!!!). Godzilla has died at least twice along with a noticable list of defeats, most at the hands of nobler, heroic kaiju attempting to halt G-zill's lumbering fury against the energy-wormhole we live on.

A lot of things hurt Godzilla, he just fights through it.

Scenario: Metropolis, USA; a calm dusk wind seeps through the urban forest, peace is evident. Then Godzilla emerges from Nameless East Coast Ocean #2 with destruction in his plans and his tail on his butt. Clark Kent, fresh out of the potty, sees the potent menace and rips off his Tuesday's best, preparing himself for the Japanese titan with armored green flesh.

End Result: Godzilla melts Superman's spandex-clad ass with a simple blast of his atomic introducer.

"but suprman is 2 fast!!"

Perhaps, but all Godzilla would need to do is hit Superman once to end the conflict. Superman, however, would need an elaboratle cause-and-effect-driven situation that is unlikely to carry out perfectly, and even if it did, who says Godzilla was thwarted for good?

I don't care who you are, a nuclear beam > you.

Godzilla 1, Superman 0 (FINAL)

Swimless birds,
Brett freak!!1

Provoked lynching

2007-01-08T14:46:00.000-08:00

How about a paraphrased countdown conclusion of collective collaboration?

The 2nd greatest thing about the Nintendo Wii is Wii Sports for the reasonable amount of $0.00; the top of the list dealt with every other Wii feature that seemed favorable or quirky, although sometimes they can be one in the same.

Meh. To be honest, I got a little bugged by a potentially dispriting comment made by a pair of my heroes, Adam Sessler and Morgan Webb from X-Play, the favorite child of G4, the only network dedicated to out-of-place programs and terribly scheme-like commercials, possibly the biggest gravy train of them all, except, of course, run-on sentences.

If you're not familiar with the show, go make yourself a girlfriend using only paper clips and Head and Shoulders brand anti-dandruff shampoo. Ahem.

A viewermail was something along the lines of this:

"Dear X-Play,

If Godzilla can have babies without laying eggs, then why can't pigs eat bacon without being cannibals?

Robert from New Hampshire"

Adam and Morgan shunned the statement with icy, annoyed rage, flaming ol' Rob's misconception of his humor quality. They added some cruel sarcasm just to finish off the compressed rant. It was a judgemental side of them I hadn't even imagined.

Made me perpend whether my shit is worth a shit. Maybe I should just pack up my belongings and head of to Cubical Valley, located off the coast of Fallback.

Then again, I could be taking myself too seriously; hypocricy at its finest, no?

Life is a joke, all you have to do is laugh at it.

Gale lunnery,
Brettalia

Advocating the Goron

2007-01-04T19:29:00.000-08:00

A Quintet of Riisons that Describe why Wii Makes Mii Happii

(three) The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess

It would be an ironic travesty if I would post a detailed and moderately idealistic report of the game rather than playing it.

So I won't.

Contest yourself: accept a challenge today!

Lurking privileges,
Brettiocre

Global appeal

2007-01-03T17:52:00.000-08:00

A Quintent of Riisons Describing why Wii Makes Mii Happii

Number 4: The Collabortive Controller(s)

The defining trait of the Nintendo Wii lies within it's unique/intuative/white/gimmicky/generally awesome controller, which utalizes a wireless remote and assorted attachable attachments.

See?

It's motion sensitive, comfortable and stylish, we all know that. However, Wiiless individuals are probably unaware of the versatility of the apparatus.

You can play in enough positions to make Paris Hilton say "Well, that's new."

Example 1: Normal

Focused, yet reserved.

Example 2: Crossed Eagle

Relaxed and endured

Example 3: Tired

Lazy but surprisingly effective

Example 4: Unnecessarily Active

Flamboyantly dangerous

Plus, the Wiimote has a bunch of seemingly pointless features that add impressive variables to the games being played on Nintendo's latest masterpiece, most notably the little speaker that, despite dishing poor quality audio, makes the gameplay somewhat immersive and even more noisy. The subtle rumbles help the experience, also.

The bataliion has been passed (darkenss=dramatic).

Enclosed longevity,
Brett|tterB

Chance of a Bang

2007-01-02T19:24:00.000-08:00

You know what seems appropriate?

A countdown!!0

A Quintet of Riisons that Describe Why Wii Makes Mii Happii

Number 5
Forecast Channel

Say we live in a world where people like me never leave the confides of their homes, specifically the lower basements of these living arrangements, yet they still care about the external enviroment of their brick/aluminium/log/straw houses.

They're too busy playing the Nintendo Wii or masturbating to venture outside!

If only there were some possible way to check the weather without moving or digital/analog cable!

Fuck yes.

The temperature could be measured in Kelvin and it would still be the neatest feature on any gadget that featured Zelda, Mario and a heavily armored female bounty hunter with an powerfully versatile arm cannon.

HOT

Pierced intentions,
Brett or BERTT

Uniting the separatists

2007-01-01T15:12:00.000-08:00

Fissuring normality often creates a newborn sense of habitual delight.

See, it's finally 2007; three-hundred sixty-five days that many of my peers make a fuss about. It's the year that graces the varisty jackets of fellow classmates, a seemingly fantastical time of lurking freedom and inevitable maturity. Come May, I could be a graduate. I could be excited to finally earn such a popular priviledge.

But I'm not.

Time to resolve the conflects holding me back from potential paychecks and potatoes.

"wut?"

1. I need to get a fucking scanner. Currently, there are TWO (2)(II)(4^.5) scanning devices on my computer desk, however, without installed drivers, they are practically coarpses, rotting in a pile of dissappointing filth. There exists a pair of discs, somewhere, that will allow the machines to play with my Dell Demension, thus enabling a Pluto of possibilities.

2. To fully utalize a scanner, my drawing skills have to improve immensely so my ideas can be confidentally produced in pure plurality. Not sure how to go about doing so though, maybe a montage is in store.

3. Finding my way to a large scale, legit Nerf War would be pretty stellar, also.

4. loose wait. im to fat.

Oh yeah.

Meet Balls. I like to play with him. I have a fascination with him, and I've also been known to kiss him.

He's ideal. Everything that inhabited my speculating dreams was made true and good, somewhat of a surprise, really. Usually if I anticipate irresponsibly I end up disappointed and coldly alone.

The Nintendo Wii is amazing, well worth the wait that was extended 5.5 weeks.

More sometime.

Nano shlamoes,
Brett with one tee

Ever the swordsman

2006-12-26T07:42:00.000-08:00

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

2006-12-23T09:05:00.000-08:00

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

2006-12-19T08:45:00.000-08:00

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

2006-12-16T22:41:00.000-08:00

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

2006-12-14T19:43:00.000-08:00

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

2006-12-13T19:21:00.000-08:00

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

2006-12-12T19:13:00.000-08:00

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

2006-12-11T19:25:00.000-08:00

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

2006-12-10T20:33:00.000-08:00

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

2006-12-09T20:16:00.000-08:00

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

2006-12-08T18:26:00.000-08:00

"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

2006-12-06T20:13:00.000-08:00

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

2006-12-05T18:39:00.000-08:00

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

2006-12-04T19:04:00.000-08:00

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

2006-12-03T19:00:00.000-08:00

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

2006-12-02T18:31:00.000-08:00

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

Jointed martyrdom

2006-11-30T19:29:00.000-08:00

This lady bought came to Pamida the other evening and bought a fresh silver PS2. Evidentally, she was reluctant to purchase the console, for her bitching at the checkout was nonstop and illogical. One of her children wanted a Playstation 2 for Christmas, which is an honorable request. The system, with its big and exclusive brother "available" has dropped in price yet still has decent titles being added to the already immersive library. The mother would have none of it, however, exclaiming "I can't believe I gave in!" and minute variations of the statement, each more repetative than the last. Her final comment was:

"He has a Gameboy Advanced! He has like 4 of them, and they're portable! I don't see why he needs this (points to PS2) when he can bring the others whereever he goes! Why should I have to fork over two hundred dollars for this?! I shouldn't have given in, why didn't I say no?"

Well, here is you answer, ma'am, to all your naive and enraged questions:

1. It's called the Gameboy Advance, you know, the present-tense form. It's fine, we all say certain words in correctly. Personally, I've always pronounced deity "Di-et-tee" rather than "dee-it-ee", and that little error leads to some humerous caroling!

2. If owning a GBA automatically makes a PS2 wish greedy and questionable, then why do you buy him sweatshirts? He's got a polo, why does he need long sleeves!

3. The PS2 was actually on sale for about $125. That's actually 5/8 of the price you said it was. Unless it's going to cost $75 to ship the console to your son, who may or may not live far away, your checking account won't be injured that badly, so you can either put it back or hush your complaining to an inaudible squeal.

At the time of her little tantrum, I zoned out and nodded at basically everything she said, disagreeing with every thought that she annoying threw at me.

In short: sleep is like pizza sauce. You think that it's not that imporant to the anatomy of the pie itself, yet once you try a sauceless pizza, you realize you were wrong.

You sensor bar looks delicious,
Brett in E-Flat Major

Vines and leaves make for steals and deals.

2006-11-29T21:16:00.000-08:00

No time to write, I have to write.

As a token of a token...

Planning Chaos,
Brett University

Allegoric conclusion

2006-11-28T20:33:00.000-08:00

Aaron reluctantly purchased the item he had waited 4 hours in negative-Celcius weather. Mom could see the guilt in his eyes, yet she assured him with her own.

Mom wasn't going to let Aaron walk out of the discount center empty-handed and sucker-punched, and he knew that, despite their friendship only existing for about 124 minutes. They were both in a tough spot, one that shouldn't and wouldn't have happened if it weren't for a redneck Grandma whose motivation can be summed up by Jessica Simpson as Daisy Duke in the Direct TV commercial:

I totally don't know what that means, but I want it.

This here ends the tale of my Wii and our tragic seperation.

...someday...

Circle the dread,
Brett<1>

Cotton letters deliver hope

2006-11-27T18:14:00.000-08:00

Mom's thunderous glare didn't phase (nameless) for it takes intellect to fear. (nameless) then displayed her traditional hick-style defense mechanism: outrageously hostile agression.

"(boss) said that if I wer' here bai' nine-turdy, I cood giddit ri' afta der store opened."

Her dialect strengthened as she excalimed herself out the door, Wii in her filthy and undeserving hand/bag. Keep in mind that all this happened because I was disallowed SPECIAL EMPLOYEE ADVANTAGES.

Aaron and Mom stood together, petrified in a combination of rage, shock and vengeance. Their mouths gaped as Mary looked at her pink cross-trainers, utterly ashamed and frantically speechless from the events that unfolded.

Aaron broke the silence, "Now what happens?"

Mom took her LG out of her pocket and began dialing.

"What are you doing?" Aaron asked, still bewildered by the thought of being Eiffel Towered by the friendly staff of Pamida.

"Calling my son."

Aaron said a prayer without opening his mouth, Please let the son of the very nice lady be as kind as his mother/not a douchebag. A pony would be pretty sweet, too.

***back in the brettcave (it's portable)***

9:57:34

Beebop was exceptionally difficult that morning. Usually the duo of Don and Leo outmaneuver the punky swine with kitanas and detailed strategies like having one of us walk in front so he uses his little mace hat and the other guy kills the fucker from behind.

We're geniuses, really.

I was distracted. How could I focus on an 8-bit adventure of heroes in a halfshell when something I've anticipated for a bajillion days was finally in my posession, vicariously at line.

Brett's pulse = sin678(a) as a approaches 10:00 pm CDT.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

Donatello better run on autopilot.

My phone recieved the signal that I and everyone around may or may not have been waiting for.

_______________
Call From:

Mom
_______________

Mom gave me the 4-1-1 on the awful situation, her voice passionately chilly and muffled by the connection. Imagine your beloved fiance' being kidnapped by an aged trucker with a toothless grin and a half-empty bottle of gin, all the while sporting a neon shirt with a dolphin from Seaworld 1992.

I was helplessly cross-state.

Mom concluded her rant/story with a question:

"What should I do with the Wii?"

It was only fair that Aaron, the customer and unaffiliated leader of the line, recieved the console he sought for.

Windy chips,
Brett w/ envy

Vaugely in-depth

2006-11-26T18:39:00.000-08:00

"Are you still there, Brett?" Josh asked.

"Yeah." :(

"Sorry, dude. (boss) told one of us to call and break the news to you."

"I appreciate it," my sorrow maximized into anger. "Why couldn't you have called me sooner? I'm two hours away!"

"Sorry. I'd do it for you but I have church, sorry."

"Thanks Josh, bye," with a pissed and perturbed tone that could make even the happiest puppies droopy.

"See ya."

I look back and regret taking out my spontaneous frustration out on Josh. They could've just easily leave me uninformed as my "reserved" Wii was sold to a customer. Josh deserves a big hug and a medium pizza for being the messenger, even if it seemed like I did my best to end his life.

With my mind racing like Lightning McQueen in the Dinoco 400, I did the logical thing and called my mom.

Much like myself, Mom is passionate for uncommon interests (she's a nerd). She knew of my Wii-quest and its assumed happy ending on November 19th, 2006. She understood my situation better than anyone, including myself. She also agreed go to the store that morning and camp out for me, out of sure maternal awesomeness.

I began to wonder why my reservation was no longer legit or reserved. The 'unfair employee advantage' part is entirely understandable; Best Buy Managers had to wait in line to ensure themselves a precious console. What gave any of us, Pamida Customer Sales Associates the right to do such a thing?

But why the change? Had a corporate bigwig remind (boss) of a forgotten company policy? Had a large group of fanboys/PS3 rejects/parents call the store and inquire about the Wii? The right answer/question needed to be known.

But first, jazz music.

The professional-quality concert ended after Pamida closed for the night. I flipped my phone open and pressed "Contacts, five, down, down, down, down and down". My co-worker and fellow male teenager, Jared, answered.

"hey d00d. wutz up?"

"Yeah, Jared. Have you heard about the Wii yet?"

(note: the signal/diction was terrible, many huhs and whats were exchange. For the sake of length, I'll swipe them from the records.)

"ya. srry d00d."

"My mom is going to camp out for me, could you do me a favor?"

"k. (boss) sez dat all she has 2 do is bring ur emplo-E crd and get der a lil before 10. k?"

"Thanks, Jared. I owe you one."

"no prob"

Funnily enough, I was initiallly going to ask whether he could go and be Mom's body guard: Jared is a big kid and nobody in there right mind would fuck with his shit. Apparently, Mom could acquire the Wii with only minutes of waiting, they must've not expected much of a line. Mom can be unaccompanied AND unmugged!

Just to be safe, I asked Mom if she could get there at 8 (Pamida opens at 10) to make sure there was no need to be there any earlier; she obliged b/c shes t3h b357.

November 18th was hella polar. Once postiviely confident, I was now scared of the mysterious unknown outcome. Everything could be blown down by the damned wolf. Would my Wii actually get to me? Would someone else pose as an obsticle to my holy grail? What happend to Andre?

That night was a mixture of Christmas eve and the post-audition period. I was so anxious, I slept in the same futon as another male and supposedly touched the ass of another (thus breaking the 10th commandment).

Awake by 8, I reacquainted myself with the NES to keep my mind off of the other Nintendo console that was being born approximately 500,000 times that day.

My brother woke up and watched me play, I must've stirred him while turning the machine on. The golden LoZ still plays like it's deepest and RPG'est game in the land. The dungeons are still challenging and it's still hard to remember how to

My phone rang. It was Mom. It was only 9:00 CDT though, the store was closed along with its doors.

My mom wasn't the only one waiting in line. Her place in line was preceded only by a college student, Aaron, who she was having a great time bonding with. However, another man waited in his car, some 40 feet away from the entrance.

But hey! Two Wii's, and Mom is second in line/unharmed/having fun! We're gonna make it after all!

My jubilancy was equaled by her's. However, as a precaution, she asked if I could call Pamida (with my special privileges such as the phone number) and discover just where the Wii's were located.

A short convo with the shift leader, Mary (fairly new there), lead to this info:

"The Wii's will be at customer service."

I told Mary to watch for my Mom and Aaron, the first two in line who had been there since 8 and 6 am, respectively.

It was all working out! Now that Mom and her friend had the upperhand in both distance and knowledge, I was a shoe-in! This calls for some morning co-op!

***meanwhile at home***

Mom and Aaron continued to chat as 10:00 and Pamida's Wiis drew nearer. The kind female learned about the console while the college student described Nintendo's latest innovation to her, detail by excited detail. An hour earilier, they didn't know who the fuck each other were.

Aaron was baffled by the mother's eagerness; he never thought he'd share such a splendid conversation with a mom in a video game console waiting segment (or: launch line). They exchanged sentances and profile info, she even lent him a sleeping bag to warm himself up with.

The workers began to file in at 9:30. (nameless), (girl) and (lady) all had to summon someone to unlock the door for them in order to enter their workplace. Pamida didn't want the raging mob of crazed gamers to burst through the door.

They both anticipated gleefully. There was no hostility, no competition, no trampling or pistol-whipping. Just two human beings being human beings.

The world can be a beautiful place, can't it?

9:59:55, 9:59:56, 9:59:57.

Dispite the frosty temperature, their heart tempo throttled to Prestissimo. Mary stood on the inside, key in hand, ready to unlock the door to the next generation of electronic entertainment.

9:59:58, 9:59:59.

The dense bolt clicked. The path was now open.

10:00:00

Mom and Aaron skipped to customer service, a mere Shaq-arm's length from the entrance. Mary held a white box that featured shimmery potential and the letters "w" and "i". It was undoubtedly comparable to the birth of our savior or The Mystery of Al Capone's Vault.

Mary handed the carboard treasure to Mom like an allegoric exchange of greatness.

Mom looked down and happily asked, "Well, where's the other one?", referring to Aaron's empty mittens.

Mary's eyes sighed. She turned her left shoulder to reveal (nameless), the redneck grandma Customer Serivce Associate, placing the recipt in her pocket and grabbing the bag which held her newly-acquired Nintendo Wii.

Creamed fish hold the bottle caps,
Brett.

Vanishing crayons and mammoths

2006-11-21T19:20:00.000-08:00

When we last left our friend and colleage...

"Oh Brett, the Wiis came in today. (nameless) has dibbs on one of them, you want the other?"

The unexpected retort:

"Uh...yeah," I said, in a state of gleeful shock. Suddenly, the thought of accessing a console before its release sprinted in; do employee benefits include such a privilege?

"Alright. We can't sell them until Sunday though, you'll just have to wait until then," my superior teammate informed me. "But we'll make sure it's set aside, okay?"

Well, that was a dream that ended faster than others.

"(I don't remember what my comment was but it was probably unintelligent and severely thankful)!"

I quickly called my bro even before I got out of the store. He was pleased with the news for it meant a sure evening of fun rather than a 20-degree commitment with an unknown outcome. Likewise pleased, I began to believe that all that fuss was going to pay off and get me a Wii.

SATURDAY

My brother's underground bachelor-mansion was irregularly warm as our accompanying homeboy and I waited for the third member of the crew to arrive. A kit of outdoor necessities was not packed because there was no need. My Wii was safe and sound in the secluded labyrinth of the Pamida backroom, all it took was for me to say "Hi" and I'd be face-first into the next generation. Excitement had morphed into the Blue Ranger and then confident pondering.

Just as long as it took for us to drive over a hundred miles, we were halfway to our destination and only 7.5 hours away from the 3rd and plausibly final console launch for our calender year. The trio of us were enjoying a nice car ride and a weekend off, just to make things that much more pleasant.

(soundless noise of a cell-phone on manner [vibrate lol] mode)

The caller ID displayed the name of my buddy, co-worker and former linemate, the guy responsible for my job and checking account.

"Hey dude, what's up?"

His voice sounded reluctant and sympathetic. "Yeah, Brett? This is Josh."
"Yup, I'm fully aware of that."

"Well, (our boss) says that employees cannot get any special advantages, so we can't hold a Wii for you."

Although those speaking were almost 2 hours away from each other, the conversation dissolved into a mutal silence.

zomg phind out nxt tiem

Spelunking the rich,
Brett$$$dollarsign

Gliding to cranberries

2006-11-20T19:32:00.000-08:00

Last Time, on the Adventures of a Corporate Fanboy:

scroll down to find out more!

SPOILER E-LRT: DO NOT REED IF U HAVNT SAW TEH FIRST PART!!11

Things to pack:
-Sleeping Bag
-Numerous Blankets
-Gameboy w/ AA batteries
-Gloves 'n Mittens 'n Handcoats
-Hair

Everything on the above list was ready and waitin' to be utalized for comforting needs. Even if we were not lucky enough to nab a Wii, the dude(tte)s we'd meet and the Olympic-like experience would make it at least ignorantly pleasurable, if not newsworthily rememberable.

Websites and CNN alike were covering the Playstation 3 launch with a "glad I'm not there" approach, which got fairly annoying as they all started repeating the same universal reports. After switching off both monitors in dread, I hopped into Simmons and cruised to Pamida, in search of school supplies for kids who aren't me but are definitely needy. Dispite my customer intentions, they asked if I could help the store muscleman with lifting mysterious boxes. The money wouldn't hurt; I punched my time card with a left hook and began doing what I do best: loading trailers.

A hour and a half passed. It was nice to lend a hand/arm to my co-workers and I wasn't planning anything more important. I told my shift leader that I had to go; a statement which he understood and agreed to.

"Oh, Brett, hold up," he said as I strolled to the employee area. "The Wiis came in today. (nameless) has dibbs on one of them, you want the other?"

Boy, that question is like a friendly Rhino in Zubaz: surreally easy.

Or is it?

We'll all figure that out someday.

Iratedness earns D's,
Bretty Bird

Bungee walking by moonlight

2006-11-19T18:10:00.000-08:00

As of three months ago, today's post was going to discribe my magical weekend of outdoor sleep, meeting cool passionable people like myself and, most importantly, the unique allure of the Nintendo Wii.

I've been looking forward to November 19th for seemingly forever. If you dare to view the earliest of my early blog archives, you'll actually find a embarssingly undetailed report giving the low-down on the former Revolution and its then-newly-reveiled controller, along with the mild-controversy surrounding it (keep in mind that the PS3 was almost 100% speculation at the time). The Revolution was dubbed 'Wii' sometime that spring.

Between then and now I've:

1. Come to terms with my Nintendo Fanboydom
2. Gotten a job for the sole purpose of buying the Wii at its launch date
3. Grown 0'0"
4. Yet to improve 1337ness of any sort, really.

November 19th was the holy day of Wii. My personal numberical countdown was started as screenshots and other media of launch titles began to pour out, and how sweet the pixel-juice was! Twilight Princess, Red Steel, even motherfucking Happy Feet looked amazing as the albino nunchaku began to break down walls and attract followers as if they were Transition Metals.

I wrote poetry. I drew pictures. I stayed up past my bedtime to find the current info on the little rectangular prism that could. Pumped was I for I was pumped.

But excitement is petty swagger without organization, which was uncharacteristicly a nonproblem for my endeavours. Asides from one large miscue (missed the reservation date), I was totally informed of the local situation regarding the sequently available video game console extravaganza. The options were weighed as my two partners in my Wii quest (who have remained unmentioned for some reason) aided my decision that resembles a father selecting national parks for a family vacation.

Giddiness.

After a period of inactivity, a bright idea stumbled upon my noggin: talk to the workplace (a minor-league department store) about the possibility of ordering and holding a trio of Wiis for a trio of cool cats. I was given a basically confident "We'll see" from the electronic guru; no specifics were told but the message was fairly evident.

The other two would eventually drop out of contention due to financial matters (IE: they didn't have enough money), I was going Godsmack in this battle.

time flies by sort of

My brother and a close friend told me of a possible roadtrip to go see my older sister; a journey that usually involves rushed fun and hours of pavement and prairie.
I don't see her enough; of course I'll go with. One problem: which weekend will this take place? November 17-19th.

Shit. Family or Wii? Both for 100, Alex.

Who says I cannot camp out with my sister? It works out, see, because the nearest hotspot of consumer goods is 30 minutes away in North Dakota. North Dakota happens to have a truely dated law that says no business shall be open before noon on Sundays. My sister (who has a name) goes to college in Minnesota, where no such rule is enforced, meaning a whole half-day of enjoyment with Nintendo's latest. Arrangements were made and remade and preremade but either way, it was all set up for the most part.

Fade to last Thursday, right smackdab in the embellished Playstation 3 scandal. The odds were stacked against anyone without a tent and 6-day strong BO. I feared that the same fate would fall upon casual Wii-campers (if there is such a thing) for my pary would not be able to set up a temporary living areauntil about 5'o clock on Saturday night, thanks to the NCAA of all things. The line could be overwelmingly long by then, in fact, it was logical that any premature effort would be futile.

We had to try though. The Wii only launches once, right? Right?

2 b cuntinud...

Chickens of litter,
Brett w/ handles

Gas-powered loathing

2006-11-16T19:36:00.000-08:00

This statement is in both my blog and journal.

You know what that means?

Time to make my own clip-art.

So I'm watching a giant humanoid figure make of circumsized forskins eat a bearded clam-lady and now its fighting the second coming of Christ, which farces the Statue of Liberty in Ghostbusters 2 and has the voicebox of Stephen Hawking. It's not a good thing to view when you're really tired or really impressionable or really stoned or really stupid; it's generally disturbing and odd.

In about an hour from now, America will be 2/3 of the way into the next generation of electronic entertainment and what's on G4 right now, the network devoted and derived from video games and everything related? The Man Show. The fucking Man Show. Sorry, but it was only funny when I was 14 and learning about fallopean tubes. It's fine that it's being broadcasted, but what if ESPN decided to show billiards instead of Super Bowl pregame?

lol vaginaz

"Click" is awful. My class chose to watch it for the Chaos Theory unit over "Back to the Future", "The Terminator" and "Home Alone 2". Both painfully predictable and pathetic, the film makes you wonder why they based an entire production off of an Austin Powers joke.

Oh, it's girls jumping on trampolines. Ha, trampolines.

Methinks you don't get it.

Spirit of the Diploducus,
Brettolark

Bubblegum is but a distraction

2006-11-15T19:46:00.000-08:00

Today's post will be in
#ZOMG BRITTNEY SPEAR-ZEE-VISION!!!$%

Which path will Brett choose?

Will mistakes be committed a second time?

What the fuck?

Streams of turkey,
Brettanica

Monitoring the habits of maturity

2006-11-14T18:38:00.000-08:00

The PS3 can pwn Rubix Cubes and make fully grown crows out of chicken eggs.

Can you?

"chuck norris can lol"

You really need to get yourself a Merry Little Christmas.

Speaking of denominational celebrations: it's Thanksgiving in about 1.4 weeks or so, and you know what that means?

People are about to outrageously panic.

Funny how the holidays were created to give people some time off so they could say "_________ is cool, hail ________!" or "Thanks, __________, for this lovely _________." They were intended to provide enjoyment and self-reflection, yet the American society has made it into a dreadful freight-train of compressed anxiety by which millions will morph into raging trolls with shopping bags.

I'll get my fair share of seasonal stress this year thanks to my retail employment facility, where I will undoubtedly experience the tidings of angry customers in their Yuletide plights. Hopefully there will be no Turbo Man of 2006; it's unlikely that I could handle a horde pothering parents, attempting to win over their children via toys/gadgets that they'll probably end up forgetting about anyways as the little shits discover the blessings of Marijuana.

Underaged hellions should be a treat as well.

"Mommy I wan' Gwan' Theff' Auo!"

"Sorry Jimmy, you'll end up as a criminal like your Uncle Charles!"

"Fu' you, ho'!"

Hung like a scorpion,
Brette of Ye Newe Shoppe

Hateful jamborees

2006-11-13T18:45:00.000-08:00

Someday I will do investigative reporting beyond the boundries of Wikipedia.

However, that day is not November 13, 2006 or January 45, 1867.

My Pokemon squad is offically completely assembled and their raising/steriod injecting is still in progress. A detailed 'Meet the Team' session will be held when they reach the point of casual boasting/vicarious dreamliving. Let's just say they're not exactly 'profession' but they are certainly 'paid' for their 'efforts.'

Over the weekend, I was reminded of the effective and shunned tactic of 'annoy your opponent into a blind rage by which you can take advantage', often called 'productive pestering.' Not really, but now is the time for new trends to take over if there is ever going to be.

'ProPes' is best used in either physical or virtual competition, not in a battle of whits, for obnoxiousness won't give you an edge if the dude your facing off against knows everything, k?

Say you're playing the popular sport of "basketball", one of the most frustrating activities this side of the Water Temple. Most people believe height and size dominate the game, but alas, a chipmunk/guard that can run in circles exceptionally fast while making squeaking noises will prove to find sucess, assuming he/she can fuckin' nock dwn t3h outsid3 jumpr and has handles like a pasta strainer:

Noodles go in, but the don't come out.

Basically, they don't look like they're irrelavant pipshits but then you find out otherwise and pretty soon you have yourself 16 fouls and a 45 game suspension for whipping out a RGB in the 3rd quarter.

Examples of Productive Pesterers:

-Allen Iverson
-Pablo Sanchez
-Pikachu in Super Smash Brothers
-The Quotient Rule
-GeneralCole (assumingly)
-Pikachu in Super Smash Brothers Melee
-Tweety-Bird (with or without the hyphen)
-Underpants Gnomes
-Pikachu in Super Smash Brothers Brawl

If you excuse me, I have some catching up to do with an old friend...

Inexplict linkage of copyright fractions,
Brett two oh

Elite nouns and hunched phraises

2006-11-12T20:04:00.000-08:00

In a world where althetics were like video games:

1. Those who practice more would suceed more.
2. Strategy > Ability
3. Instead of 'Andre Carter' and 'Randy Johnston', stars would have cool names like 'NEO' and 'ItWasLuck.'
4. You could not distinguish the competitors from the fans.
5. RedBull and Bawls would be official sponsors and used in postgame-celebrations/pregame rituals.

If video games were more similar to sports:

1. LogiTech and MadKatz would dish out controller endorsement deals.
2. A n00b could easily pwn a seasoned vet, assuming the newcomer has the knack of unconquerable subconscious skill.
3. A professional Mario player could be paid millions while he gets consistently dominated by the first goomba.

/realization

Oh noes! I'm posting on the blog!

Why didn't anyone tell me?

Tangerine corncob,
Brett-1-1

Looking past the visual

2006-11-09T20:19:00.000-08:00

...sigh...

\We can never know about the days to come
But we think about them anyway, yay

And I wonder if I'm really with you now
Or just chasin' after some finer day

Anticipation, anticipation
Is makin' me late
Is keepin' me waitin'

Carly Simon said it best: "Give patience a chance (paraphraised)."

My excitement enflames as my neckhairs become icedly stiff, the hours linger yet the grail seems nearer than ever before.

You hear that? I'm pumped.

...but not too pumped.

Lukewarm porrage,
Brett <3's the dictionary

Unwanted lumps, cherish thee

2006-11-08T21:07:00.000-08:00

Holy shit, gravy is about 7/4 cooler than paper cutters aka scissors.

My hunger strenghtens with each particle of unmelted glass that seeps through the bust of time.

There are times when EasyMac is insufficient and I dwellingly post about wanting food rather than eating it.

Gosh that's silly.

Razor sharp fuzziness,
Brettopia

Points of escalation

2006-11-07T20:28:00.000-08:00

Good grief, yesterday marked my 69th post and I didn't make a big fuss as a result. My only hope is to hack into the Blogger database, outmanuever/gun its treacherous defense systems and turn back the eternal clock within, thus giving me another shot at some sort of statement like this:

69th p0st lol

God bless (virtual) American time travel.

Today would've been an exquisite evening to mess around with a video camera and end up with some poorly shot clips of my friends acting goofy/normal with tin foil and I dunno, a stuffed Garfield doll.

...which brings me to my next and essentially urgent subject: stuffed animals and the common (wrong) titles that they're often referred to.

Common Mistakes
Dolls
Plush Animals
Dollies
Plushies
Plush Dolls
Stuffed Doll
Dolly Plushes
Dolly Animals
Geno
Beanie Babies
Bean Bags
Dollz
Beans Beans they come from the Hearts
Beanie Dolls
Dawls

This is a stuffed animal:

Here is another example:

(note: She wants to get it one with me, assuming her shirt doesn't lie)

I'M PRETTY SURE THAT YOU UNDERSTAND NOW

So, since that issue is unforgivenably solved:

lol self-cannibalism

Problems lead to followers,
Brett*America*

Rainbows of potential

2006-11-06T19:17:00.000-08:00

"brett do u liek fallout boy??"

Not in particular, no, I'm more of a a brass-hole, a horn lorn or a obsessive trombone enthusiest, most commonly referred to as a 'ska fan.'

The reason behind my clinging to the genre is unknown, unclear and possibly nuclear, but I can ensure you that no matter what mood I'm in, the peppy blend of trumpets and guitars seem to be the right choice for a bright future.

The last seven words in the above paragraph just happen to be the campaign slogan of my running mate and I for student council elections, uncoincidentally enough.

Anyways, Reel Big Fish, the posterboys/frontrunners of the 3rd-wave ska scene, released their latest album a month or two or three ago. Their 6th (or 7th) record/CD/lazerdisc is their first of the 'Live' variety, giving it more vitality and content than the previous few, along with an impressive amount of actual circular dataplates.

"Our Live Album is Better than Your Live Album" is both a true statement and the title of the aforementioned published playlist. 3 discs, 55 tracks (some are repeated [ie: both audio and visual]) and oodles of impulsive fun can be yours for the scant price of about 15-20 American dollars if you feel like being awesome.

Someday...

Most kids seek candy,
Brettles

Team Rocket's red glare

2006-11-05T20:33:00.000-08:00

For the past few seconds I've been playfully toying with the thought of a new layout for this here Web Logging Area. A fresh look to JHB or whatever its called might be exactly what Dr.Mario perscribed.

That could possibly be the largest picture of an Italian medical officer in t3h world.

In regards to the recent trend of sleep-deprived rubber-coated Minutemen and their untolerable request of neverending Egos and shower curtains:

Vote Intelligently: Vote Sodomy.

One of my newly and subconsciously required privileges is the one that pertains to the legal and offically legit selection of elected officals. And no, 'elected' is not spelt 'e-l-e-t-e-c-t-ed.'

How do I feel about that? I'm fortunate that my 18th year just happens to feature an election instead of an erection or an infection or an erection infection. Get it? Anatomy and science are gross and crude!

I'm going to vote on Tuesday and anyone who's of-age and awesome should also.
(note: Brett is not awesome but he is of-age)

Your only option is to sleep,
Brett pew pew pew

Bricks of iron and noodles

2006-11-02T19:54:00.000-08:00

"brett were do babies com from?"

Shut up and read your comic.

For the very first time in possibly all of 2006, I got an idea for an article (aka overly-lengthy posts with specific themes and pix!!!1). Coincidentally enough, I forgot it just now.

Oh there it is again.

"You're in the Super Bowl, Charlie Brown" is by far the funniest film since "SoaP". Not only does it featuring enough repeating animations to make the fiends responsible for Scooby-Doo say 'Lazy fucktards', but the said segments are approximately 7 minutes too long!

But I digress, for the cartoon is a legit classic and Charles Shulz has possibly the most frequently mispelt last name of any celebrity (and he's from Minnesota!!!1). The football that rivals both "Rudy" and "Revenge of the Titans" begins with an apparently NFL-sponsored game between felines and Woodstock clones, with Snoopy at the helms of the feathered little cheep wannabes.

Either way, the birds dismember the cats, and the crowd cheers on the bloodbath.

Then there's like 47 polysecond pauses and a PPK (punt pass klan) competition and the Peanuts gang decide to wear helmets because throwing a football can give you a severe concussion without head-armor. They also represent selective NFL teams, or do they??

There's no business like no business.

Marconi Plays Thrice,
Brett listens to the radio

Equivalent to yogurt and hunter

2006-11-01T20:18:00.000-08:00

"brett wut did u do 4 halowean??"

Shit, it was Halloween last night? According to whom? What supporting evidence do you have?

Exhibit A
Little kids were wearing costumes, being guided around to gather candy and other sweets (no apples of course, damn razor blades!!).

Does the defendant have anything in response?

(the defendant)
Children are allowed and prone to dress up as fantasy characters or Presidents on a daily basis. That claim is irrelevant.

Exhibit 4.26
Pumpking sales/stocks are soaring, along with other spooky decor and seasonable veggies!

(t3h d3f3nd4n7)
Ha, I knowingly doubt the pumpkins are actually sprouting little green wings and flying, kid. Metaphors are poision, especially in the field of law.

Exhibit Georgia
'It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown' was on last Friday. Now why would it be played during any other time period of the year?

(The ant who defends)
Three words: slow news day. Or: baseball rain delay. Or: Next question please.

Exhibit, Jr.
Today is November 1st, right?

(the armored representative attorney)
Only in the modern American calender.

Exhibit Zero (w/ no calories)
Well, you're gay!! Fag!!

(the defendant)
I've got nothing.

Green Porcupine Cosmic,
Brett and Enriee

Therein lies the falseful truth of neutrality

2006-10-31T20:15:00.000-08:00

dance - (verb) to move one's feet or body, or both, rhythmically in a pattern of steps

walk - (verb with an excessively lengthy definition) proceed by move by advancing the feet alternately so that there is always one foot on the ground in bipedal locomotion and two or more feet on the ground in quadrupedal locomotion.

Since an alternating pattern is a form of 'rhythm', and both actions are qualified quadruped locomotives, we can deduce that:

Dancing is walking.

God rest ye merry gentlemen I always replace one or two words while singing a song although it doesn't change the tune's inner meaning or overall moral it's still imperfect I'm too cool for commas.

Take for example, the epitome of a good time.

Okay, here's what I hear:

I'll pile on the candy,
It's such a pretty sight!
It makes the food take dandy
but my tummy hurts all night!

I'll put in some ingredients
but keep the rest for me!
I'm not just disobient,
I'm careful, can't you see?

Chorus
It's a piece of cake to bake a pretty cake,
If the way is a hazy!
You gotta do the cookin' by the book;
You know you can't be lazy!
Never use another recipe,
The cake will end up cuh-razy!
If you do the cookin' by the book,
then we'll have a cake.
(/Chorus)

We gotta have it made,
you know that I love cake,
finally it's time to make a cake.

Making food is just like science
with tools that blend and baste,
and ev'ry fun appliance
gives the food a differnt taste!

(Chorus)

We gotta have it made,
you know that I love cake!
Finally it's time to make a cake!
We gotta have it made,
you know that I love cake!
Finally it's time to make a
-you gotta do the cookin' by the book-
CAKE!!

Now watch it again.

What they're actually saying:
(Ziggy)

Hot pile on the candy it's such a pretty sight it makes the food taste
dandy but my tummy hurts all night

(Stingy)
I'll put in some ingredients but keep the rest for me
I'm not just disobediant I'm careful can't you see

(Stephanie)

I'ts a piece of cake
to bake a pretty cake if the way is hazy
you gotta do the cooking by the book you know you can't be lazy
never use a messy recipe the cake would end up crazy
if you do it by the book then you'll have a cake
we gotta have it made you know that I love cake
finally it's time to make a cake

(Pixel)

Making food is just like science with tools that blend and baste
every fun appliance gives the food a different taste

(Stephanie)

It's a piece of cake to bake a pretty cake if the way is hazy
you gotta do the cooking by the book you know you can't be lazy
never use a messy recipe the cake will end up crazy
if you do the cooking by the book then you'll have a cake
we gotta have it made you know that I love cake
finally it's time to make a cake
we gotta have it made you know that I love cake
finally it's time to make a (you gotta do the cooking by the book) cake

Critiques (discussed sections in bold):
1. Hot pile on the candy? There's just one kid running his single pair of hands through the candy. Hot piles (which are very, very uncommonly referred to as such) require multiple people using their whole bodies.

2. Another > Messy. For one, the cake the quartet is creating is the one discribed by Steph's special instructions, meaing the use of another recipe will result in something totally foreign and unknown, or cuh-razy. Also, it's impossible to forsee the cleanup situation of a recipe by just reading it. 'Messy' may or may not be the official lyric, but it's certainly the inferior choice.

3. I don't even have to try anymore.

Sportacus knows what to do.

Plausibly too easy for sheezay,
Brett_is_sp00oooky

Bottled boxes of barnyard beakers

2006-10-30T18:58:00.000-08:00

"omg i hate spam adz do u brett??"

No, our relationship isn't based on hate, rather it has a foundation of joyous laughter and trite awesomeness.

Internet ads are hilarious.

While questing along cyberspace, this little doozie tripped over me:

And then it changed in a sublimental flash!

Good time for a gif, eh? Too bad, sometimes the animation just isn't there for our enlightment and we'll just have to cope with the tragedy.

The ad doesn't say much, but it does give us a crimson warning, cautioning all those under 18 to sprint away, back to the comfort and tranquility of their Tiddly-Winks and 1337 handguns. Despite my non-adulthood, I fired the left click, thus unleashing its terrible contents.

Those scars will never heal.

Looks like I'm going to be an Eskimo for Halloween.

The mediocre eggplant,
Brettzkizzzle

Big bad dung beetleborgs

2006-10-29T20:27:00.000-08:00

Who's the victor? I'm the victor.

And at the same time, I am t3h l00zr. While furbishing the post from the day with the Nerf guns and such, I was reluctant to unveil the entire 4 paragraph wonder, for the lack of an outside media reference made the whole topic confusing and less palpable. The aforelinked video not only showed how the blaster functioned, but it features Keanu Reeves's very own personal stuntman.

Holy crap, that is just rubbish.

Pure concentrated gobbledygook.

An inquiry was brought up the other day:

Who's more important to history?
a. Ralph Baer, the inventor of the home video game console
b. Condoleeza Rice, the current American Secretary of State

(clockwise from right: ralph baer, condoleeza rice)

How is this even a conflict? On one side, the father of an entire media/entertainment branch on the ever-growing tree. The other option is pioneer of black females holding the duties of Secretary of State.

The choice is yours.

And mine.

The choice is ours.

Make the scary go away,
Bretth

Creamsicles of distrust

2006-10-26T19:26:00.000-07:00

After hitting myself in the godamn face (near the bag of the eye, to be specific) with a godamn car door (the sharp part at the top, to be specific), I found myself with the perfect photo-op accesory:

blood tears.

Yup, the razordoor missed my pupil by about 2 inches and left a small, but nevertheless open wound which, surprisingly enough, dispensed the thickly red liquid that we humans are so found of. Then gravity kicked in as the blood began trickling down my cheek, all the while I was rushingly crusing to the workplace to plea for some time off.

I looked into the rearview mirror and found a myspace photograph, one that probably
gets numerous comments for making everything greyscale except for the blood itself.

Yeah, like that one except for the boobs and whatnot.

~O negative~

i cry
a tear for a
cause once lost

but the tear is
not saline

it doesnt soothe

it scabs

unlike what the wound
on my heart

and you were the scapal

~O negative~

In weeks past, I've spent a lot of time and energy complaining about Super Smash characters and their respective unfairness, often using 'Nerf ________' for my campaign slogan. Samus was a common 'victim' due to my friend's primary use of her and:

*LONG LIST OF SAMUS ADVANTAGES*
-The best projectile attacks (Missiles and Charge Shot)
-Unattackable Up-B
-Bombs create separation
-Bombs create infinite recovery
-Stage grapple
-Long-ranged grab
-Quckest smash attacks
-Dash attack can KO at 90%
-Dair=Spike/Popup depending on angle
-Uair=Drillkick
-Fair=Flamethrower
-Bair and Nair=fucking sex kicks of massive power
-Sprints fast
-Falls slow
-Three words: boobies and vagina

The only thing she doesn't have is some sort of sabre/rapier. Relatedly, Marth and with his fellow swordsmen are seen as her counters, due to their long reach and sharp pointy metallic blades. But that's it, her only weakness is a blue-haired Japanese prince, who can pwnz0r all of you.

Then I stopped bitching and started crapping.

Any character is beatable as long as you don't suck.

But items are still and always will be cheap and distracting.

Only unconfident losers use the hammer.

Short hop to victory,
Brett (or: polysyllabic)

Rule of law need not apply

2006-10-25T19:53:00.000-07:00

Old habits are hard to break. Examples include chewing your nails, alcoholism, and beginning a paragraph with a cliche only to move onto an entirely different subject within inches.

It's not a good day for my spelling, so this will be a fairly petite way of saying hI'!!!

If this blog was Pokemon Snap...

this is the throwable apple/food/bait.

And this is a pesterball.
Check out the comments for an doubleplusgood experience.

Caring turns into sparring,
Brett_is_watching_someone_else

Lift me from the chest

2006-10-24T19:51:00.000-07:00

Batteries power the sun
Sun powers batteries

perpetuality

cows drink milk loser get over it
it's why they have udders in the first place

incorrectness

gators aid with the powerful jaws
and we use our powerful laws to aid nothing

obsolete

break a bottle watch it shatter
break a shuttle watch the splatter

irreversibility

Samuri Pizza Cats
who do you call if you want some pepperoni?

Right on.

creativity can develop into what
creativity strives to overshadow

perpetuality.

Happy Mole Day yesterday

Holy shit, turns out that Mole Day is only 12 hours long.

Ahem.

Happy Mole half-day yesterday and 4 hours 15 minutes ago.

Sexy Dee,
Bretthew Arthur Cosby

Broken is my spleen

2006-10-23T19:25:00.000-07:00

"brett do u liek ninjaz or pierates??"

Cupids.

The end of Nerf season will arrive all to soon thanks to snow, wind and Jackson Frost huffing and puffing his chilling cheeks to the point of subzero. However, the lack of wars could possibly bring a shower of modding time/motivation, but then again, I'll probably spend it training Pokemon while I sit my back into submission.

The lastest member of the foam-firing-family:

The Magstrike is one-third of the trio of Nerf's Automatics, and many agree that it is both the most effective and efficient. Powered by air-pressure from a pump, this clip-fed distributor of competitive death blasts 10-dart waves that are nearly impossible to dodge, as demostrated by THIS VIDEO THAT YOU SHOULD WATCH SO THE NEXT PARAGRAPH MAKES SENSE. First one to find the link getz a c00ki!!

If you thought you noticed Mr. Red from the Red team shooting at helpless opponents from a pathetic 15 feet away, you're right! And so is Mr. Red! The Mag, unmodded, gets about 20-25 feet tops, which is impractical to say the least as other blasters can hit 30-40 without much problem.

I was strongly disappointed with the Mag upon using it in a war. While wielding the blaster, I was reduced to a mere empty threat, only useful for making people think a few times before shooting my teammates and myself. The only possible way to hit someone with its impressive rate of fire is to literally stand 10 feet away and sort of rain the darts down on them, like a thunderstorm of weakness. Even then they'll have a look on their face that says 'shit I could've easily avoided that by stepping backwards' and to their credit, they most certainly could've.

Thanks to screwdrivers and ForsakenAngel24, my Mag (dubbed 'Srgt. Squirtsalot) has climbed a few steps on the path to not sucking. No longer do I have to unleash all 10 shots, for I can now shoot in bursts of 2-3, each with improved range, velocity, accuary and oragnacity. Now it's plausible for Srgt Squirtsalot to produce some that at least resembles actual true-blue/red offensive manuevers.

That last sentance should not be taken a sexual comment/metaphor.

Also:

Well it seemed like a bad idea,
Brett.\\hack

Vanilla root beer makes you sad

2006-10-22T10:13:00.000-07:00

Swiss cake rolls for breakfast?

Yup, get used to it.

In case you don't have a psychic-level memory:

Brett wants a Nintendo Wii. He had planned to camp out for the system the night before it was sold in stores. Brett then found out, after much partying, that there was Gamestop was making pre-orders available in very limited quantities on Oct. 13. He read that message on October 14, and frantically, he skipped to his nearest Gamestop (a jolly 30 minutes away) to obtain his wanted information...

There were two Gamestop employees currently on shift, a girl around 18-20 and an obvious college graduate, sporting a dress shirt and a bling-bling name tag which hung from his neck. The dude was chatting on the telephone, so the only available helper was the girl.

Me: Hi, I'd like to ask some questions about the Wii.
Girl (we'll call her Tiffany): Sure, what's up?
Me: Do you know if this store is planning on a midnight launch?
Girl: Um...I'm not quite sure.

Tiffany turned her head towards her occupied coworker to inquiry.

Girl: Are we having a midnight session for the Wii?
Guy (we'll call him Arthur): We don't know yet.

Arthur continued with his phone conversation.

Girl: We don't know yet.
Me: Huh. And I assume that you're fresh out of pre-orders, too.
Girl: Yup, we sold the last one within ten minutes.

600 seconds is all it took for 1/3 of my dreams to be mortally wounded. Disappointed, I gave her my thanks.

Me: Well, thanks for the help; I appreciate it.
Girl: No problem.

We went our separate ways. My journey was accompanied by a couple of family members so I moped to my brother in the PS2 section.

Me: They don't know yet.
Brother: What?
Me: They're unsure on whether or not they'll have a midnight launch or not.
Brother: Oh.
Me: And they sold all their reserve slots in 10 minutes.
Brother (chuckling): That sucks.
Me (likewise): Yeah, it kind of does.

After a night of Gamecube (the Wii's predecessor), we traveled home, but something didn't feel right and I knew exactly what had been alterered: my anticipation. No longer was I uberly optimistic or cheerfully upbeat, for I was now in a state of feared panic. A new plan has to be devised; a better plan. Multilayered for full-proofeness and impressively thought-out. This here ends the first chapter in the book of Wii.

And the second chapter has now begun...

Make it jerk,
Brett, with newly-improved motivation

Big Ben tells time, and time tells Big Ben

2006-10-18T22:02:00.000-07:00

Last time, on Brett's Irrelevant Blog...

-Cake!
-Nintendo Wii!
-Email!

Now for the lackluster conclusion...

I only read emails from a few select senders, usually my close acquaintances and store chains. Just don't give me any forwarded bullshit, for you'll get a faceful of shame as a reply. 'Touching' or not, 67,459 names and a short story is not worth my nor your time; go find yourself literature instead, you'll thank me later.

Ahem, before I sway off-track any farther, one of the 79 messages was from Gamestop (the video game store with more) and it had a very noteworthy subject:

US Wii and Canadian Wii/PS3 Pre-Order Announcement

Its contents were of even greater importance:

"Gamestop and EB Games stores will begin accepting limited pre-orders for the Nintendo Wii console on Friday, October 13 on a first come, first serve basis. Due to extremely limited supply, we expect to reach our limit, likely in minutes. Blah blah call your store."

'YES!' I thought-sclaimed as a plan was devised somewhere in my brain. It would be easy, call my interested friends, go camp out in pleasantly crisp October weather and drive home on nice and friendly roads, compaired to Novembers inevitably troublesome icy obsticle. Things were going to work out, my smile grew.

Wait, what day is it?

The clock and calender read "Saturday Oct. 14, 2006 12:47 am" and my heart sank with Captain Hope going down with his ship. There was little chance of obtaining one of the precious reserve slots, especially when one was a whole 24 hours late.

The trip to Forks (the whereabouts of the closest Gamestop/every other major store) was a dank one and I found myself fearing the consequences of missing such an excellent opportunity. What if I never get a Wii? What if the government makes fun illegal in the next month or two, excluding all pre-arranged purchases? Will Fergie Ferg ever make a lick of sense?

The answers to these queries and more, next time on:

The title is what you want,
Brett.

2006-10-17T20:11:00.000-07:00

"brett wut happnd 2 u?"

Well, as a no-longer-illegal adult, I can answer for myself and avoid the hassle of parent e-mail notices. It was my birthday on Friday, see, and there was some celebrating. Now it would be quite rude to dishonorly ignore my guests and fart out a few irrelevant paragraphs or maybe even analytical anecdotes, just to do a similar routine for the following days. Heck, most/all who would read it were probably attending one of the said parties.

But it wasn't a merry long-weekend of pure and untouchable joy, no, for there was an irony-saturated lesson to be learned.

My future intentions involve purchasing the Nintendo Wii and going to the bathroom every once in a while, and I share those plans with apparently 45,000 people who probably have a Blogger and play as Falco.

A few chums and I had it all set up: leave school on (date at time) and arrive at our nearest Gamestop at the appropriate time. Armed with lawnchairs and cuddly fleece blankets, we colonize the parking lot as we daydream of how awesome Twilight Princess will be and the precise building of our respective Mii's. Maybe we'd even get on TV for being so gosh-darn passionate and cool. Oh, how naviete can make life ideal.

I'm on the computer too much. Often times hours melt by as I accomplish little and tell myself "I shouldn't be doing this; I should be (verb)ing with (noun).) Rarely does the (verb)ing commense, however. Due to this, my email is consistently maintained, despite my accumulating amount of saved messages that really have no effect on life. But if somesome sends me a virtual letter of any sort: I see it.

That wasn't the case this weekend. I somehow avoided the computer for 2.31 days straight and spent quality time with friends and family that I wouldn't trade for a whole lot. However, on Saturday morning, my butt found its home on the stained charcoal office chair (lol nostalgi-ass!!) and I noticed my Hotmail, complete with 80 or so new messages, all of which were unread, by only one was worth viewing.

To be continued...

Can he do that,
Brett...

Deeply immersive yet Appalling

2006-10-15T20:07:00.000-07:00

The "Flavor of Love" (VH1's reality show 87,539 of infinity that features Flavor Flav the apparenty enemy of the public being The Bachelor) finale is proving to be peculiarly distracting. I dunno, maybe it's because a black person is wearing viking horns and they don't seem out of place at all. Other claims:

-Black emo girls!
-Near-drowning w/ life jackets!
-Pineapples.

Flav should definitely fuse with American Hi-Fi and make a Saturday Morning Soap Opera w/ Opera signers.

Vanilla root beer is bitter piss,
Brett O_*

quickthingofsomethingreally fat no fast

2006-10-10T21:44:00.000-07:00

Noah Webster Day

He knew way more words than you do.

Wating dowwnnn,
Brett!!

Making Idaho the place to be

2006-10-09T17:53:00.000-07:00

Columbus Day is the only day of post office-closing power (excluding generic Sundays) that can come and go without massive and uber-marketed recognition from the general public. And rightfully so, Columbus and his respective day both suck.

In some aspects, the Italian explorer/pioneer was a crucial part of history; he technically made the first publicized trip to the Western world, although many intelligent thinkers know he wasn't the European to place his 15th-century boots on American soil. Yet thousands believe he was the hero who discovered the continent, and for that, I rant.

It's widely agreed that Chrissy-poo was oblivious to his findings and also popular to vocally distribute the fact. But there's still something unjust with his unintentional achievement: he's sorta idolized for it. If he has his own 24 hour period named in his honor, so should numerous and deserving heroes who do not have such a luxury/distinction.

IN SHORT, THE THEME OF THE WEEK IS:

(fill in the blank) day.

Let's begin.

George Crum Day

*note: this may or may not be, in fact, a picture of George Crum. But hey! He's like 250 years old and he has a hat! A hat, for crissakes.*

Waaaaaaaaaeighy back in the time of Napoelon III and pre-Seattle Washington state, there was a cook who prepared food in a restaurant. But this wasn't just any cook in any restaruant, it was a man by the name of George Crum, the head chef for Moon's Lake House in Sarogota Springs, NY.

George was a good food maker. Seafood, Italian, weasel delicacies, you name it: he'll bake it and you'll take it all the while at Moon Lake. Look, a tit.

*image cencored because I can't legally see boobies yet*

But dispite his mastery, he still had his fair share of shitty customers. One special day, a businessman moseyed into the restaraunt and ordered something, with a side of fried potato slices. George prepared them with his typical finesse and apron, nothing to abnormal for him. After eating a few of the spud selections, the nameless customer viciously complained that George sliced them too thick and that they were saturated with grease. George adapted to his criticism and served up another plate. The customer was once again angered, claiming the same thing: too fat and too wet.

Even after another batch, the picky prick wasn't satisfied. His obnoxious tantrum was apparently the straw that broke George's possibly hairy backy-back-back. In a furious rage of fury, the chef cut the potatoes impossibly thin and overcooked them to a light crisp. He then dumped an excessive amount of sodium chloride on his creation. That otta show the cheesy whiner, the potatoes would break if punctured by a sharp utensil such as a fork!

The customer, however, used his hands to eat the slices instead, an unforseen action on his part. He enjoyed the crispy slices so much, he ordered like 67 platesworths and became the first person ever to be unable to stop once began to pop.

Shocked, George collected himself and realized what he had accidentally done. These potato turds...er...dropping piles...um...chips! Yes, these potato chips would lead him to massive amounts of gold/money and who knows - He might even get to be on Rosie O'Donnell!

Cooking for other people is hardly ever fun, especially when the said other people are hard-to-please douchebags and agressively finicky. George got fed up with a particular and snapped, like so many have and will. He got lucky, yes, but this goes to show you:

If someone is frustratingly selective, make a fool of them.

Kick a book,
Brett and the tator tots NAPOLEAN LAWLS!

Get to the Middle of the center

2006-10-07T21:50:00.000-07:00

Trifecta of Tangents:

1. One's personality cannot be completely relayed through photographs.

2. Good photographs should not be fully understood after a banal explanation of the following mold: "This is me and ________ at ____________."

3. nerf t3h s0rd

Press 'R' to instantly kill your opponent in any situation! Remember: 'no skill' can easily be jumbled and remixed to create 'no kills', which is exactly how many your enemies will get!!

This must be a red burial ground,
Brett, putting the 'head' in 'shead'.

Your question is addressed

2006-10-05T20:09:00.000-07:00

Brett is not one of Dr. Pepper's 23 conjoined flavors.

Are you?

Oops sleepy,
Brett.

Jingle Skulls, Jingle Skulls

2006-10-04T20:00:00.000-07:00

I'm diggin' the whole 'post per day keeps the boredom away' deal; it makes create more often and with less pressure compared to the scarce and lengthy days of yesteryear. Hopefully this all continues.

/knock_on_wud

Suddenly, it's October. Time for pumpkins, pigskin, plaid-clad Scarecrows and of course, Christmas. All the cool department stores are officially Yuletide with elaborate displays of lawn ornaments decorated with red/green tinsil and enough fake snow to cancel fake school for a few feeks. Meanwhile, the shoppers don't really care yet. They find it absurd that the holiday season is being shoved into their unwinterized faces and perpend the logic behind the premature promotion.

And it should've been worse. Corporate (the powers at be, upper upper management, Discount Gods) wanted our own little Pamida shoppe to have 100% of the Christmas inventory to be on public display by mid-September, a task that raised the eyebrow of the staff. We all decided that holding off until the 10th month would work out better for everyone, which was a good call.

In short: Merry Fucking Christmas! Get in Gear for St. Nick because AMERICA is going to jump over Halloween AND Thanksgiving so GET WITH THE TIMES.

On the topic of topics, a surprisingly heated debate broke out the SmashBoards a few sunsets ago. People were arguing over the terms 'buff' and 'un-nerf' and which one is teh lame/teh r0xx. For the record:

buff - (v) to make better; increase quality
unnerf - (v) to repeal the affects of a nerf; to restore stats and powers that a nerf had taken away

For the record, 'unnerf' was the correct choice as they were talking about (get this!!!1) Kirby, who was indeed nerfed.

Remember that, k!!

Up-B is for your own well-being,
Brett, the Friendly Friend of Muskrats

Well, this should've been forseen

2006-10-03T19:24:00.000-07:00

Brett shouldn't have to post: he's sleepy.

Nobody likes a sleepy writer, so in his place:

A new comic.

K<3

Recycled carbon,
University of Brett

Caffine-free basketcase, no wickers!

2006-10-02T20:07:00.000-07:00

"Brett wuts a nerf?/!"

A 'nerf' could be one of several things, most commonly a reference to foam dart artillery, or Nerf Guns. Some use the term for the dart blasters, while some use it for the projectiles themselves. Heck, people also make in verb form, specifically "hitting another with a foam dart, usually during competitive 'wars'."

EXAMPLE
(Billy and Joey are in the midst of an intensely sweating Nerf War; Billy has fired his blaster and hits Joey with a dart)
Billy: Got you!
Joey: No you didn't!
Bill: Uh huh! I nerfed you in the back!
Joey: Nuh uh! Your nerf missed!
Bill: Look, my nerf's pretty accurate and the shot is stuck on your forhead.
(Joey looks up and is subsequently denuciated)

So, for tomorrow's session, I want you all to draw a picture of your favorite silverwear and portray it as a vehicle or something. Now get to bed!

"no brett i meaned the vidoe game form!"

Oh, that's even simpler: a nerf is a restraint on a pre-existing factor (character, race, ability, sexual organ) that serves as a check to its extreme and sometimes unfair power/ease/pleasure. This always enrages a section of the gaming universe, primarily/always users of the aforementioned factor, although it is sometimes necessary for a balanced gameplay experience.

**NOTE**
Nerf, as a video-game term, is derived from the toy brand. A Nerf ball is made of foam which makes the toy less dangerous and less effective in dodgeball than its rubber counterpart. A nerfed character has also been altered to be less dangerous and less effective in dodgeball, thus the term 'nerfed'.

EXAMPLE
Kirby (the Pink Puffball of Pathetic Portions) is a playable character in both Super Smash Bros for the Nintendo 64 and its sequel, Super Smash Brothers Melee for the Nintendo Lame/Gamecube (whichever you perfer). In the 64 version of the unique fighter, Kirby is difficult to beat:

Advantages
-Quick moves with good knockback
-Powerful throws that can damage several opponents
-The best 'Buttbomb/Anvil' attack in the game
-Multiple Jumps (Kirby can float 5 times in the air)
Disadvantages
-Lightweight, althought his 5 jumps often cover that
-Short Reach

Hal (the developers of Smash Bros.) too notice to this, and nerfed Kirby in SSBM:

Advantages
-Multiple Jumps
-He's not that slow I guess
Disadvantages
Almost everything else.

While it's still very possible to win with Kirby, it's not an easy task. Only the 1337est of the 1337 can find consistent success while using the PPPP against a skilled advesary.

This is an perfect example of over-nerfing, but that can wait for a later date with a some bate, a'ite?

Apostrophes are letters,
Br'tt

2006-10-01T19:47:00.000-07:00

Let's make it a sweep! I've been doing math all night, the trend will remain unbroken.

Spaghetti + Basketball = Failure

Photograph / Scissors = Regret

Grape Nuts - Nuts = get it famly guylol i like do u. its randum

Playstation 3 + Oblivion = Panic at Microsoft

Latest eBay sucess story: 1080 Snowboarding
This Nintendo 64-exclusive was bought to pay back a friend for letting me temporarily steal (with permission, sort of) his corresponding console, an act that left my conscience and thumbs blistered.

Ten-Eighty was the premier extreme winter sports title back in the day, with its complex trick system and variety of gameplay modes that included Match Race, Trick Attack and Training. Come on, any game that allows you to practice will remain a classic for generations.

The straw that paid via PayPal was the immersive Character Select Screen. Imagine yourself at a totally hip and cool ski clubhouse/cabin/chapel with 5 chill thrashers of varying cultures/hair-dos/poses, each more perpetual than the next. In the background, you can distinctly hear the invigorating rhythms of 'Work the body, work the bod-eh. Work the body, work the bod-eh' over, and over, and over.

Oh, if it were only 1997 again...

Seriously, I spent the first 20 minutes just getting reminded about how awesome it is to make a Japanese girl subtly squeal 'Shit.' in a high pitched voice.

And for the record, nerf Dion Blaster. Black British dudes don't wear hockey jerseys, nor do they have blonded highlights.

Shaq spots hash,
Brent jp itz Brett

Beta Ceta Alphabeast

2006-09-30T21:13:00.000-07:00

Domino's Fudge Brownie Squares are not actually shit-saturated shag carpet-cubes.

You evening truth.

Three Green Inputs,
Brettsdfljksdfljksdflkj

Stock is falling, peope are mauling

2006-09-29T13:56:00.000-07:00

In life, there comes situations hilarious enough to cause self-reflection.

Question of the Day:

Are handicaps humorous?

Brett's Take: With a great deal of would-be remorse, yes, they are. However, laughing at those who have disabilities is followed by the most subsequent guilt, which usually serves as a lesson: don't laugh at disabled people. They can't do anything about it, so use some forced/natural empathy and be a friend to them.

There are exceptions though, such as a handicapped female from my good ol' high school. She's known for random and sporratic outbursts and screams that often penetrate the concetration of fellow students. Another habit of hers is to physically interact with peers by means of slapping, grabbing or submission moving each of which leaves the said girl viciously smiling as her 'opponent' is left awkwardly helpless. Normally, I'm very open with the special ed. students, having fun and conversations and whatnot. But with her, I'm terrified; she can strike at any time and who knows how she'll do it. Ignorant? Perhaps. Cautious? Definitely.

Anyways, she wore a shirt the other day:
'My Best Subject is Socializing'.

I'm sorry, but if your child has an obvious social disorder, do not buy a shirt like that.

Wow. Just...wow.

This will bite me someday,
Brett . tterB

2006-09-28T19:36:00.000-07:00

YouTube's being irrational and not allowing me to post their videos on my blog 'click me play me all in the same window' style. This calls for poetry.

YouTube, YouTube
You tube because you tube
Except when you disallow
Allow me to use your Blogger Service
Or I'll punch a racoon
You don't want that, YouTube?

/Donkey Konga

I'm moderately obsessed with Super Smash Bros (4 n00bz: nintendos fightin game w/ charact0rz fro dffrnt games lik mario and zlda!). There, I said it.

Hooray for outbursts!

In conclusion,
Brett_gohan@n00bm4il.com

Jay to the Jay for the Oh!

2006-09-27T20:25:00.001-07:00

"Brett do u play halo??/"

From time to time, yes. It is one of the best games if you have 8 friends and likewise as many controllers (4 on 4 for the win), but who has the time for companionship?

On a topic related closely enough to be considered 'insest', Bungie (the gangtaz behind Halo 1 AND 2) have unveiled their latest project: a Realtime Strategy game based off the Halo Universe, entitled HALO WARS.

Hopefully the title is just tenative, because HALO WARS is something you'd expect from a 14-year-old who dreams include Master Chief and bakers hat (do the math) or even worse, Electronic Arts.

Anyways, the game looks impressive but the details are still very hazy. Check out the trailer/official site if you must.

Speaking of the Evil Association, they pooped out some representatives for a interview with the Official Playstation Magazine. The article, featuring corporate chimps, serves up a summary of the publics view regarding the publishers: EA is teh suxxors.

Personally, my dislike for EA is due to their tendancies to hurry the release of certain games that could've been phenominal had the development been retarded (look it up). Examples include Goldeneye: Rouge Agent, NFL Street 2 and every other title that they've made in the past 3-4 years.

An amusing quote from the section; EA Vice Pres Jeff Brown responds to 'EA rushes games':
"Frequent software has bugs and some are worse than others. When you make sports games, you window is your sports season. You've got to be there at the start of the season. It makes no sense to ship Madden in January."

Brett disagrees:
'When you make sports games, you window is your sports season.'
1) That doesn't excuse the countless incomplete non-sports titles.
'...software has bugs and some are worse than others...'
2)So which is worse: a bug that spoils the gameplay, or a bug that totally ruins it?
'It makes no sense to ship Madden in January.'
3)Wait, yes it does. NFL Street 1 and 2 were both launched in the winter and they sold perfectly fine. And people would (and have) buy (bought) Madden if it was potato chip bag with a AA battery, why would they shy away from purchasing the actualy game (probably of better quality) during the playoffs/holiday season?

Bah, the sheep said as he listened to hip hop.

O Captain P Captain Q Captain,
Brett (who can be your captain)

Daisy Whoopsie or Spontaneous Tripping

2006-09-26T20:15:00.000-07:00

Somehow I stumbled my way to the offically offical The Grudge 2 site, and boy was it made with Flash!

Somewhere beyond all the inconclusive Japanese logographs, there's a game! You play as a heroic Asian cop, complete with super-duper white gloves, as he attempts to save a small presumably preteen boy from his home. One catch: the house is on fire!!!1

And there's some weird lady trying to kill you.

See?

The only thing that's sort of cool about that screen shot is it's featuring of my birthday. Can YOU figure it out?

MS Paint? More like BSAint!!

~ =/= tab

2006-09-25T20:47:00.000-07:00

No f'rizzle post tonight, instead you get a terribly sexist Q/A jokelike conversation.

Q: How do you turn a snowblower into a shovel?

~~~woah!!!~~~~

A: Pee on it with your moose.

lolz mammls,
Brett_is_ghey

Pipe Cutting Stoners cutting stone pipes.

2006-09-24T18:30:00.000-07:00

"BRETT U BROKE UR PROMISE"

Yup, I did.

Friends are great to have; if you have not yet experienced the joys and benefits of friendship/buddyhood/communism, you must be very lonely and I'll be your friend.

One of the best reasons to not be an introverted snob is multiplayer video games, and one of the best multiplayer video games that serves as a reason to not be an introverted snob is Circuit Breakers.

Circa 1998, this Playstation (to the power of zero) racing title is unique for its genre because it's not Mario Kart or Burnout or boring for people who don't feel the need to drive in a circle for 67 hours so they can unlock the (name of car brand here)(Specific Model). Another distinguiushing factor is the exchange of laps and checkpoints for quirky items and an awesomely different scoring system.

4-player mode puts the quartet of cars on the same screen/track. The race begins and the vehicles drive, pretty typical, right? Not quite; if a player falls too far behind first place, they are eliminated as the other racers remain driving. This continues until only one car is left and that everholy persistence is awarded first place and 2 points. First player to 12 points wins.

*sigh* It's hard to explain */sigh*

When it comes to racing games, simple and fun take the cake while they make the rake for Blake and Jake at the lake riding a wake.

You're entitled and encouraged to disagree.

Opium Ions,
Brock Ettiquite

Bastardize this, you bastardizers.

2006-09-21T19:48:00.000-07:00

"Brett, see any good movies lately?"

Well, if by 'good movies' you mean 'Pokemon' and when you said 'see' you intended it to be 'play a large amount of' then you got yourself a yes and a confusingly structured sentence.

Pokemon rules; I <3 PKMN; pokemon is teh r0xx0rz; Pokemon portrays a quite acceptable source of virtual recreation to children and adults alike, whatever. The little moneymaking creatures of Nintendo have always been in my heart, even after their flash-in-the-pan popularity dropped like a negative exponental function sometime between 1998 and 1999, they're still my goddamned furry and fiesty and flamethrowing friends.

Right now, one of my favorites is Hypno.

HYPNO used HYPNOSIS!

BRETT has fallen asleep, thus giving him an excuse to go to bed!

BRETT is too asleep to conclude!

Dammit x 3

2006-09-20T20:02:00.000-07:00

Writing sucks when you don't know what words to write.

Can't post, too busy being frustrated with an essay.

Bove in Lundles,
/Brett/

Rolling ball pens are the new mechanical pencils.

2006-09-19T20:01:00.000-07:00

Remember a few months ago when there was a blogpost about an article about a rant about frustration with out nation's Free Enterprise system?

"Well well, Brett gosta job!"

'Tis true, I can include myself in the group of a billion forcedly-polite and abnormally polite individuals, better known as the 'retail industry.' A job in a department store is a simple and effective way to make income all without expensive surgeries or daily regiments, because who really has time for a daily regiment? What the fuck, regiment doesn't fit into there at all, stupid hair-loss prevention psuedo-infomercials.

Oh yeah, that news is about a month old, s'rry!

*Conflict at Hand -> Heroes vs. Heros

I'm seriously having a extravagantly difficult time deciding which spelling variation to choice and use for the rest of my life. They're both so gosh-darn normal and appopriate and seemingly obsolete!

Stop signing in Jerry,
Brett + altering alteration.

Ha! Told you!

2006-09-18T18:20:00.000-07:00

Lookie lookie! The first daily blog post, for all you doubting negative nancies/nicholases.

So it turns out that spotlights and video camcorders absolutely dislike each other. Like, Ann Coulter-level loathing; the hatred is hardcore and can easily ruin a good shot at a live event if you're not willing to be the middle-man for the two as they shout nonverbal proton-insults at each other which causes a big white flash that is anything but not blinding. Can't we all just get along or at least pretend that we do until we're separated and continue with spiting our way to freedom?

While on the topic of 'freedom', a dicussion in school today reulted in this comment:

'The war in Iraq has been one of the most sucessful in history.'

Now, I hate bringing politics up in any form of communication, but I have to disagree. There's a lot of wars out there to choose from, including:

-War of 1812 (The popular historical trivia classic)
-Spanish-American War or American-Spanish War
-The Cold War (America vs. USSR)
-The Warm War (Russia pleasantly talking with the English Colonies)
-The War of the Worlds (also known as 'Chapter 14 in the Scientology Book)
-The Battle for Lemon-Lime Supremecy (Sprite vs. Sierra Mist vs. 7up and countless generics)
-Console War of 2003 (Or: xbox sux u fehg/ps2=two penis sukrs/gamecube more lik worhtles)

It's hard consider the ongoing confusion in the Middle East with such a strong list of predecessors, but hey, people can be wrong all the fuck they want.

INTER-activity!

*Which current event do YOU feel strongest about? ('current events suck' is not an acceptable answer)

Hate to say otherwise,
bRETT

That's it!

2006-09-17T19:57:00.000-07:00

This blog is going daily! I've had it with the fucking camels!

Here's both scoops, every night/midmorning/once-impossible psuedo-period that is created by shanking the space time continuum, I'll write and post, whether it'd be a paragraph, graphic, or topographer.

'But Brett, you suck. How do you figure to imagine such an ordeal?'

Well, I'll use these things that can be called 'paragraph catalysts', devices that use small-minded topic starters to produce, hopefully, quality paragraphs.

Because practice makes perfect and perfect makes practice and Mommies and Daddies make babies.

Sex,
Brett.

Stretched compression...

2006-07-29T22:41:00.000-07:00

An update on updates! But what's next, a pamphlet on pamphlets? A game about making games?

Think back, like 3 months in the direction opposite of forward, and you may recall my giddy awaiting of a little RPG called Kingdom Hearts II, which I briefly discussed in a blog post, not unlike this one! Dammit, something's missing.

A Brief Recalling/Review of Kingdom Hearts II?
Sequels in the film industry are like eating a sandwhich and really enjoying it, but then deciding that including some other toppings (tomatoes, sprouts, hair, whathaveyou) will increase the taste even more, only to discover that your additions are more like subtractions of the overall quality. Directors, writers, and the whole gang of moviemakers try too hard to outdo the original and end up with a large, sloppy BLT of subparness. Meanwhile in Gotham City, video game creators are more likely to earn sucess with their second installments of their respective projects, due to increased technological benefits and a budget big enough to make A-Rod play for the Mariners again.

Square Enix impressed me yet again with part II of their Disney/Final Fantasy/Buffy crossover of fun. Some gaming sites gave KH2 shitty ratings and cried 'It's too easy!' Apparently, these people have never had to amuse themselves by finding new ways to play the game and thusly challenging themselves. Heck, this is the blog of the Self-Challenge King or at least Bishop. In NFL Blitz for the PC, I can still open the game window, start a new match, select the Green Bay Packers, and run 'Da Bomb' for a touchdown, all with my eyes closed. Does anybody care? You choice is yours.

Kingdom Hearts 2 replaces all of the original's flaws and out-of-datedness with a lengthy, nostalgic and action-packed experience with a shiny paint job. My highest recommendation, foo's.

*Notable cool things*
1. Tron! Lion King! That Old Talkie with the Cow! (or: cool new levels)
2. Frustrating jumps are no longer! (also: improved controls)
3. 1000 Heartless vs. You! (possibly: amazing boss fights and gameplay instances)
4. OMG Kairi is hottt!!1 (translation: sharper graphics and surreal enviroments)

*Things I wasn't going to tell you about*
1. The Disney worlds don't fit very well into the overall scheme of the story
2. George Bush doesn't care about Japanese haircuts.

Hey Brett, how's the band coming along?
Shit, you were supposed to forget about that.

Look, a distraction link!
(Note: Neither of the members of the duet are me, myself or I)

Undoubtedly, I'm not the first kid who's had aspirations to rock out in front of the town he despiritely wants to make a name in, or at least be apart of something other than a class list. To be honest, drawing attention to myself is why this site exists. The chance to stand out is my muse, but then again, how common is that? Common like a Ponyta card. Shit, I must've had 8 of those.

See what you've done? Now, here's the portion of the blog where you read a quick survey-like question and reply by commenting:

*****$74r****
If you could chance the outcome of one event in history (don't worry about time travelish consequences), what would YOU alter, and why?
*****omg*****

Just because it's possible,
The B-Flat Brettzki

Applicant may be subject to Brontosaurus...

2006-07-11T08:09:00.000-07:00

Humility is often the dessert that follows the entree of disappointment in a glaze of defeat, garnished with shattered expectations and served on the finest China overconfidence can buy. Speaking of which, my stomach is demanding food, I'm not one to disobey my digestive system's vital organs.

Doing my part to help those with Calender Defeiciency: it's July 11. An earth week after America's Independence day, often used as a halfway checkpoint of the beloved season of fun and ice cream (aka summer). Like most, I made a mental to-do-list of tasks to accomplish in the three month vacation from ghastly confines of high school. Actually, no. Grades 9 through 12 aren't really bad by any means, and everyone who looks at them as being a slave 3/4 of the year needs a all-expenses-paid trip to Cambodia or the Arctic Ocean.

(this next section is written by guest writer and vocalist and space cowboy, Lance Bass)

Anyways, after Brett veered off his paragraphical race track, he found his way back thanks to a friendly turtle fisherman that rode on an apparently dense cloud. Our favorite Minnesota-based 17-year-old smartass was then beaten to unconsciousness by Evander Holyfield, who for the record has nothing against Brett at all, the kid just happened to be in a very unfortuante spot at a likewise unlucky period of time.

Before blacking out from the massive left hook, Brett left sloppily mumbled these words:

"Ouch, that really hurt. That will teach me to be more efficient while writing. Say, Lance, can you spot me a blog post?"

He then shat himself and layed his head against a cantelope, on which he slumbered for countless hours.

To be honest, it's of my best interests to keep this entry short, like how MadTV's run should have been, and there's nothing me keeping me from doing so, eh?

Have a nice day,
L4nc3

The most extreme extreme ever...

2006-06-22T08:42:00.000-07:00

Being lazy could possibly be one of the easiest things in world. That's common knowledge, for everyone in the entire world has skipped a few workouts or spent a few unnecessarily long periods with their behinds engulfed by the comforting cushiness of their favorite respective recliners. It's easy to blame myself for the lack of updates, so I will. Good job, loser.

Things that Distract Brett

Number 1: Yahoo Literati

Admit it, you have at least one silly online game passion/addiction/vital activity (see: breathing) and you spend hours a week playing it, each minute adding to your procrastination vault that's most likely already several notches passed maximum capacity. The actualy plaything itself varies from person to person; some choose (or get choosen by) online multiplayer options or terribly simple defaults such as Pinball or Minesweeper. For me, it's Literari, Yahoo's Not-Scrabble Scrabble game that's exactly like Hasbro's wordy board blockbuster with moderately altered rules.

I think of it like this: it's a word game, right? So by ignoring the Blog and all my future dreams so I have more time to perfect the 7-letter, 3-word (times 3 bonus) combo, my vocabulary and confidence grow just like 50 Cent's street cred for everytime he got a psuedo-mortally wounded by a gun shot. Seriously, do you think he'd be as successful if he didn't get the shit blasted out of him by a nine-wielding rival gangsta gangsta? Fiddy should thank his would-be murderer for making him a rap 'superstar' rather than another face in the ghetto clouds.

Number 2: Mario Speed Runs

Ever since viewing Mike Fireball (of Progressive Boink fame)'s 5.5 minute domination of SMB, I've been obsessed with copying the feat for the purpose of winning my friends' hands in marriage/video game partnership. Approximately 6 hours and 45,289 dead Italian plumbers later, I've mastered the first four out of the eight required levels, although world 8 has proven itself as the highest level of them all...because y'know...it's level 8 and 8>(1-7).

This leads me to another point: I'm out of points. Oh yeah, got one. Mike Fireball is excellent and he represents almost everything I hope one day to be.

Number 3: Reel Big Fish

Chances are you know this very famous OC-based ska band from their involvement in Matt Stone/Trey Parker'sBaseketball or possibly you just have good tastes in music. Either way, they rock (for realz, y'all) and have a unique sound, even for the genre, all while entertaining audiences with quirky acts of being awesome.

You may be puzzled on why a music group can advert my attention from productive production, and I won't short you a solution. Heck, you'll get two and you'll like it.

A)It's not rare to see adolescent boys try and get a gaggle of peers together in an attempt at forming a band. However, only a small fraction of these exertions make it even remotely big and some just down right suck.

In short: I've foolishly pursued some of my own 'dreams' and am not 1/92nd of the way there from being part of a 'ska band.' Sorry about all this

B)Rabble rabble rabble.

Number 4: Katie Cleary

/drool

Number 5: Looking for Nerf Guns on eBay

/drool

Sadly enough, neither of those are realistic by any means.

Thank God it's June 22nd,
Brett skies.

A slight inclination in shit...

2006-06-11T13:44:00.000-07:00

Um, hi. This is moderately awkward; it's like seeing a friend you haven't seen because you've made no effort to visit whatsoever and randomly bumping into him/her in your grocer's freezer.

Brett: Hey...blog.

Blog: Brett. Good to see you.

Brett: So...how's it going?

Blog:

My period of inactivity, in terms of blogging and basically life, has spanned longer that I initially planned on, due to an overflow of laziness and an underflow of everything else. Some notable things, however, happened:

-Nerfing is now my #2 hobby, jumping 437 positions in a matter of microhours

-I've been involved in both a school musical AND a hit reality TV show in which the requirements for involve slicing pandas while yoddling

*REALIZATION*---> Me=14-year-old girl

That's about it. No new articles, no fresh comics, no Asian porn, yes nothing. There is one thing I still retain, though: penloads of ideas.

Seriously, I got those, and in favorable quantities, too. But, with every good streak of imagination, it's inevitably certain that really fucking stupid ideas come along for the ride. I've began a large sum of articles just to delete them before they had the chance to gasp for e-air, such as...

(for those of you who don't like me...these are articles I never finished, along with comedic tries that correspond with them)

The Warriors Movie/Book review
The Warriors is an adventurous tale of a misplaced gang trying to bop their way passed rival hoodlums in order to return home to Coney Island. It's a very, very basic story in some aspects (Point A--->Point B!), but includes enough buried depth that one can shovel off for amusement. It was originally a 200-page novel by Sol Yurick, but Walter Hill took it upon himself to put the story on film in 1979. The movie became a cult...ahem...non-offical religion classic as its action-saturated uniqueness attracts a large variety of fans.

Besides from the same skeleton story, the book and motion picture are almost 1/3 of a league apart. The endings are about as similar as Gary Coleman and Dirk Nowitzki, yet both are well-done and entertaining enough to, well, write 2 paragraphs about. The sure lack of similarity forced me to begin writing a full-length movie report with little bits of color-coded differences thrown in there.
Reasons for the Nay-say
It took me that long for a extremely simple summary of the differences, the article wasn't even a quarter done at a page's worth, I pulled out the "zomg BANDWIDTH" card and ran the other direction.

F*ck You, Capitalism
Bitterly unemployed and empty-pocketed, early May was a time of complete frustration and jealousy as my search for a summer job kept being unsuccessful to the fullest extend. Even today, I have no place to earn any sort of wage (job) because I'm stubborn and misunderstood.

I was really, really pissed off with the whole ordeal and decided to blame not myself, but the American economic system, for being too user-unfriendly. There was much bashing in the short life of the article, much of it was unreasonable as a result of haste and 3 hours of sleep and I dunno, a dead mongoose. My paragraphs, as strangely brutal as they were, tried to compare capitalism to other systems, such as communism and socialism because we all know those work much better.
Reasons for the Nay-Say
Um. Yeah. It wouldn't be that intelligent of me actually use my freedom of speech.

10 Reasons to Pee on Modern Pop Music
There isn't much to this...it's just me, with insults built filling up my ass, doing my part to educate the world of how crappy, untalented and drab the likes of Ashlee Simpson, Kelly Clarkson, D4L and all the other cut-of-the-mold "stars" really are.
Here is a memorable would-be quote:

"...and Ashlee Simpson is just one more reminder of how good looks will always overshadow musical ability. Give me an ugly girl who can actually sing and compose anyday and keep the pretty and untalented faces in the movies, right where they belong."

Reasons for the Nay-Say
Meh, playing Nintendo seemed much more interesting at the time.

There you have it, just don't abuse it.

The milk is blue,
bRETTZKI wARX

2006-06-05T17:04:00.000-07:00

Hey guys!

After my leave of absense or whatever the fuck you call it, I've changed my ways. No longer do my future aspirations involve writing, and this video will give you hint of my new dream/job.

Can YOU decipher the code?

Keeping me wait...

2006-03-27T16:17:00.000-08:00

Video games were a forbidden bliss in my childhood; my parents never allowed my sister nor I to enjoy the interactive media until about 3 years ago, using the "it will rot your brain" and "they make you inactive" cards in the Rummy game of parental guidance. But alas, after an unfortunate computer crash that was evidently cause by an abundance of PC games, my mother and father made a deal that would give me a PS2 (bought with my own money) as long as I only played games that they judged "appropriate" and my playing time never exceeded one hour a day. Of course, these rules were eventually ignored by both me and everyone else that stepped foot in my home. Funny thing is:

*Due to the lack of any professionalism/persistence, our scheduled graph showing how Brett grades and activity rate soared after he became a gamer will not be shown today.*

This series of events transformed the jock-wannabe Brett Warcks into the Brettzki Warx that you remain indifferent about today. Morale of the story? Video games are good for your kids, parents. If you believe an XBox will leave your precious child as a violent sex-maniac, maybe you should reconsider this whole parenting thing.

A) Kids grow up to be violent sex-maniacs no matter what
B) A violent sex-maniac is less of a danger to society than over-controlled kids once they enroll in college

Blagh! Blarghy blarghy blraghity blargh!

Also,

A little Tyrannosaurus Sex (T-Sex?) to darken your day.

ShutterBucket > Photofly,
Brett, in the Key of Warx

Brettzki...

2006-03-11T23:23:00.000-08:00

...is religiously anticipating...

Kingdom Hearts II. Every person ever has a guilty pleasure, and for me it's causing myself pain, but if it wasn't that, then a video game where you play alongside and against wholesome Disney characters in epic and probably climatic battles (Kingdom Hearts) would be in the #1 spot.

Where else can your childhood friend wield a dangerous golden key?

Seriously folks, I was totally normal semi-gamer until my time with Square's hybrid of children entertainment and Japanese RPG's; the aftermath of which left a fanboy waiting to bust of the publicly-acceptable closet. The sequel of this very title arrives in American stores March 28, 2005, after 3 months of racking up sales in the land of the rising sun (capatlize country nicknames at your own discression.) The thought of KH2 gets me excited, even moreso than this picture. KH2 is the second enstallment of the mismatched series, and has improved basically all faults that the inital adventure had, including:

1. Right Analog Stick=Camera (infamously strange lock-on/shoulder button control is gone)
2. Improved jumping (Imagine a leaping fat kid with a seagull up his rectum; now you understand the first half of KH1)
3. Some other things. New topic.

...was surprised by...

March Madness/Mania or other generic knock-offs that do not require copyrights. Basketball would probably be my favorite mainstream sport, although that's not saying much because it's the March (French for "basketball's month) and I reall didn't notice until a few minutes ago. In a last minute panic-

Brackets. You know, 65 teams, pick the winners, lose cash, etc.

Every year I have one or two (or 35) uneducated selections that makes my special tournament schedule either laughably wrong or right. In years past, hours were spent studying stats and patterns and uniforms and bands and history and hairstyles in an attempt to produce a stellar entry, with no avail besides "What the fuck I know more about basketball than you, how come your bracket is beating mine to a wet and soggy paulp?" But this is two-thousand-six! 15 over a 2? It's happening. Duke losing in the 3rd round? A sure call. Me winning a few bucks off this? Impossible. Next!

...is still messing around with...

Nerf guns. Just when you thought I was finished with children artilery, a pair of new guns and another possible acquisition bring me crawling back to the foam firearms. Why? Shooting people is funner than killing them.

Woah!
This is the N-Strike system whatever the fuck its called. It kicks too much ass, featuring a slick pistol, a air-powered dart shotgun and bitchin' bazooka, all for the nominal fee of $39.99. Got an annoyance? Missles solve all problems, right?

The best part of Nerf is the power that you don't hold in your hands. Even after severe modification, a bizarre occurance when the dart manages to penetrate the esophogus and makes the target choke is the only possible way that you'd be able to end a human's life with one of these toy guns, not that I have that planned out or anything. So you get all of war's benefits without all the dying and such. No topic!

Unfortunate headshot,
Brettzki, the banished mouseketeer

Everything's gonna be fine...right?

2006-03-05T19:50:00.000-08:00

March 5, 2006. To the fortunate, March 5th is another day of toothsome weather or possibly the beginning of springlike conditions. However, to Minnesota and no doubtibly 67% of the midwest, it's a harsh reminder that winter still lingers in drifty conditions and the soul of every broken heart.

Winter sucks. It's novel for about a month or two and then it becomes more tiresome than playing on PokerRoom.com for 2 hours for the fact that you have nothing else better to do. Sure, there's plenty of fun to be had in the snowy hills and ice driveways. But last time I checked, no other season lasts any longer than 4 months. People say that November and March are spring and fall disrespectively, but they're just lying to you and all they really want is your money.

So I'm complaining (again) about something that has invulnerable power over me and all other related objects; it's nothing abnormal in the least. Entire websites are created for this purpose, and all I'm doing is "venting" because there hasn't been a post in about a month and my magnetic computer chair has a hold of my iron butt. Just as long as my rear has opposite charge, Jack High Fl...Blog will continue with mildly-distracting essays that may be confused with ballads.

I wish I could talk
Then ev'ryone could hear me
No more frustration
No more anger or self-doubt
Just audible words.

There is no other castle,
B.r.e.t.t.z.k.i.

Fight fire with water.

2006-02-15T18:24:00.000-08:00

After 3.4 hours of wanting, my dream came true. Ever since the 1st grade, I have dearly wanted a Nintendo Entertainment System, or "old/regular Nintendo" if you're like that. And now, the deal has been made. For the price of a regular current-generation game, a fully-functional NES complete with all the fixings is in my possesion.

But Brett, why the sudden urge to play retro video games?

That's an easy one, Sir Question of the Virgin Islands. Sometimes today's games are too complicated and frustrating, and one just has the need to shoot pixelated mallards while his trusty dog laughs at his efforts. Hell, in many ways, the NES offers more fun than any other console in today's market. Granted, you won't get the same heart-pounding, emotional thrillride from Super Mario Bros, which is one reason the PS2/XBox have become so popular amongst my peers.

It's hard to think back to the 1980's, when the NES was king of all technology. But a haiku can easily fix that.

Ninteen eighty-six
This thing has eight bits of looks
And more raw power.

In short:
NES in the 80's = PS2 of the 00's

Plus the Minibosses kick lustral ass.

Extremely is a bad thing,
Brett Man

Memorex dBS, bitches.

2006-02-10T22:57:00.000-08:00

The cassette tapes suck. They're not old enough to be "Sweet collector items" like records or maybe even 8-tracks. To add to their lameness, the only time you'll ever get any sort of use out of them is for:

A) Your car is old and has no CD player (radio sucks)
B) In a fight, they could serve as minorly-effective projectiles
C) Decorations! What would match as well with your He-Man action figure?

To be honest, cassette and VHS tapes lost their usefulness when they became more costlier to produce than high-tech disc media transmitter such as DVD's. Part of me feels sorry for them, and then the other and larger section realizes that sympathy for this situation is productive as masterbating with rubber cement and went on with myself.

Haikus rule. This will be a new tradition for JHF, so get used to them fuckers.

Killroy was here, fool
Someone tell the cops he's loose
Wait, was he in jail?

The Super Bowl sucked
Seattle got the big shaft
Thanks to Mic Jager

Nothing screams comedy like rhytmic poetry. Except maybe this guy:

Ha. He has a baby. That sucks for him!

Told you it was the tank,
Brett skis in the Olympics.

Confusious Snake

2006-02-04T14:33:00.000-08:00

Metal Gear Solid is notoriously infamous for its lengthy and detailed cutscenes that play out a story that twists more than a pretzel on a roll coaster that's being eaten by a contortionist. And hell, I've never played a game like it before; it's a life chaning experience that maybe transform gamers into deep-thinkers, or in my case: bumbling halfwits.

What the fuck happens in Metal Gear Solid 2? Well, so sum it up in a paragraph o' spoilers

*OMGSpoliersOMG*

You play as Raiden, a long-haired pale dude who on some mission to rescue the President, who's being held hostage in a oil refinery by some Russian Terrorists. It turns out that another group of mean people show up, but their group ends up being reveiled as training devices. A fat dude comes about and plants bombs, you disarm them, he blows up a big one and then you kill him (makes up 25% of game). Just when everything looks okay, the villian from Metal Gear Solid 1 enters the story, and it goes down the long road of enigma from there.

So, after saving the President using a guided missle, you learn that America is controlled by 12 individuals, a dozen men referred as the Patriots. The President is merely a figurehead used to keep Americans believing that Democracy is real. And before all this, Solid Snake (who's supposed to be dead) arrives and helps you out with your cause. Back to the Prez, who by the way gets shot and dies. The mission's sucess is all of sudden reliant on a young woman who has relations with Otacon, Snake's computer-wiz partner in...anti-crime. You have to lead this water fearing girl around several flooded rooms just so you can cover her from a sniping point as she strolls along a narrow bridge. AND THEN SHE GETS STABBED BY A GUY THAT YOU'VE ALREADY KILLED TWICE. So all that escorting for...nothing, really.

Don't think it's over yet: suddenly you're naked and inside the belly of nuclear capable mech called Arsenal Gear. Have you ever have a game tell you to turn it off? No? Well you haven't played MGS2 then! Your essential boss informs you of your wasted time on the PS2...and purple scissors. In the meantime, Raiden is dealing with his girlfriend, who by the way is a distracted and twitterpatty spy. It gets better as you clothe yourself, or does it?

Wait, no! Now you get to fight 5 gigantic robot frogs! *deep breathe* So it turns out that your allys on the mission (Coloniel and the girlfriend) are just figments of your imagination and some kooky AI, but since you destroyed the computer transmitting it, it's odd to see them still transmitting to you. Even though they're apparently not real, they rule the country, as opposed to the 12 dudes. You kill your newly-discovered fosterdad with Kitana earn the right to the real story: it's all fake! Sort of.

The entire series of events was a setup, minus Solid Snake's addition, by those weird digital ghost things. But Snake assures you that it was all real, it's just how you look at it. The moral of the story:

Life is your own personal judgement, enjoy the observing while it lasts.

And guess what? The Patriots (12 men running the USA)? They died 100 years ago!

Sadly enough, I lefted out ater least 2/7 of the total stpry, but for the entire internet's sake, I'm done.

Seriously, that's what happens.

WTF doesn't even begin,
The post-MGS2 Brettzki

Painful pasts, forgetful futures, tremendous torture

2006-01-24T18:50:00.000-08:00

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.

2006-01-18T16:42:00.000-08:00

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.

2006-01-05T17:30:00.000-08:00

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

2006-01-01T18:49:00.000-08:00

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

I am Oprah, hear me eat.

2005-12-30T13:49:00.000-08:00

JHF Down Period: Day 8

It's difficult to maintain a website in high school, especially if you like to be involved in education-related activities or overrated sports. Jack High Flush was starting to feel like a chore, or a really low-paying job, so it was/is time for a little break, for the sake of time and quality. If you dislike me for that, sorry. Just don't hate me because I'm beautiful.

A recent semi-obession of mine has been The Warriors: the book by Sol Yurick, the John Hill-directed movie and now Rockstar Toronto's beat-em-up. "Cult-classic" never really meant anything to me until I was sucked into one. The Warriors, to me at least, is excellent and nothing else comes close to creating such a unique world. To 89% of the world, however, it is a nonexistant story with some weird characters. If you like the Warriors, you love it. If you don't like the Warriors, you think little of it. It fits the definition of a cult classic, and I guess that following includes the likes of me now.

Towards the end of the Jackitron show, the award for best game was given out to Catwoman because EA Games had taken over the world. The winner was supposed to be World of Warcraft, but the more I ponder that thought, the more it's wrong. WoW isn't as much as a game as it is an alternate life. Several friends of mine have been consumed by the addicting and controlling ways of Blizzard's uberly-successful MMO, and they will never be the same person again. Often times they find themselves discussing WoW for hours, even while they're away from the game. WoW takes over an entire person's being, making it a master rather than a video game. In conclusion, God of War is better anyways.

It's amazing he can be so motivational when he's got bear traps on his nipples.

Quote of the current:
"If Charles was in charge, how come he didn't sing the theme song?"

Hoping for the better,
Warx 2005