Let me tell you something, I remember when sports were good. When people really got into it. When people died. You youngsters wouldn’t understand what that’s like, though, you only eat what the sports media people on TV spoon-feed you. Well, let me tell you what’s what:
Ok, uh, is this…
Ok, red light, that’s on. Good. Uh, hello, future person, and greetings from the end of the world!
Arlene was the first visitor I had in a long time. She some food with her, which she shared most kindly. The taste of freshly baked chocolate chip cookie was like fireworks going off in my mouth after eating so many boring meals for so long. We talked about the outside world for a while, what things were like outside the walls of my cell.
UWBW’s Note: So, a couple of weeks ago, my buddy Trogdorbad (@Trogdorbad) asked to write a guest article for this blog. I said it sounded like a fine idea. What follows is… well, it’s wonderful. Without further ado, let me present: The Trogdorbad interpretation of The Mario Canon.
A few months ago, I was listening to an audiobook of the entire compendium of Sherlock Holmes stories, as narrated by Stephen Fry. The stories themselves are, I find, a bit dryer than I was expecting, considering all the media that has featured the detective since, but Fry’s narration does wonders for the text. I found myself pulled in and enthralled by the cunning exploits of Watson and Holmes.
Have you ever tried to shovel snow that’s already piled up to your shoulders? I have. It’s something that everyone in New England has to get through once or twice in their life. It’s a frustrating experience, because you’re so deep into your situation already that the actual physical process of scooping the snow up becomes very hard to manage. The toughest part is actually getting the first scoop of snow onto the shovel, because there’s already so much snow in the way.
As a kid, I loved newspaper comics. Every morning at breakfast, I would open up the paper and eagerly consume each and every daily strip. Peanuts, Calvin and Hobbes, Zits, and yes, even Garfield kept me entertained as I ate my Reeses Puffs and Oreo O’s.
A lot of the adult-oriented comics, like Doonsbury and Brenda Starr went right over my head as a kid. Spiderman was neat, but when he wasn’t punching anyone, the pace of the comic dragged to a crawl. Little me was not able to fully grasp most of what was happening. Which is a shame, because newspaper comics are completely insane.
I was a Wii U late adopter. I got it just after Splatoon hit shelves and, despite the bad press it seemed to continuously receive, I had a fantastic time with it. Mario Maker was a blast, Splatoon turned out to be a non-stop party, Smash 4 was fantastic fun, and of course Breath of the Wild stole literal days of my life.
What caught me off guard was how much I used the Wii U’s non-gaming apps.
So hear me out, here: I’m starting to think this Vladamir Putin guy may be a bit more of a trickster than we first thought. Now, don’t get it twisted, this isn’t come conspiracy theory or crazy rant, these are just some things I’ve noticed lately that a lot of other people seem to be ignoring.
About a week ago, I noticed that just about everyone in my Twitter feed was head-over-heels fora new Nintendo mobile game called Magikarp Jump. People were posting pictures of their Pokemon, complimenting their ‘mon on jobs well done or raging about random events in the game. A close friend of mine even suggested that I pick it up at once and, with high hopes, I downloaded it.