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I'm so Smashed right now...

I’ve been playing a whole lotta games lately. No, seriously. I’ve gamed at least 40 hours a week for the last, hell, 4 months.

So what does that mean?

Quite simply, it means my muscles and skin pigment have atrophied past the point of no return. I feel like a dilapidated hippopotamus and I look like a mayonnaise amalgamation. It’s almost frightening, unless you have a thing for mayonnaise.

On a side note, did you know that some people put mayonnaise on their fries? Why not just dip them in motor oil, or strap them to some sort of fusion-powered rocket booster and send them on a one-way journey to the Alpha Centauri system? I mean, there are more fascinating and creative ways to ruin deliriously delicious and sanguinely satisfying deep-fried potato perfection than to simply smother them in the vile putresence that is Mayonnaise.

Ketchup FTW.

Now that you are well-versed on my rather active hatred of The Great White Shart, you'll be happy to learn that I love Smash Bros.

Eww, not like 'love' love...that's gross. It's closer to 'like' love, with warm embraces instead of sloppy smooches. However, I can assure you they are very warm embraces.

My love affair with Smash Bros. started long, long ago, in a track home far, far away. Me: a dashing young elf, armed with a noble sword and loyal shield, aided nimbly by a spritely boomerang. My opponent: a short Italian guy with a pedophile mustache and a questionably hetero pair of red overalls. I should have known I'd end up limping away. And after that beating, I should've learned my lesson and walked away, save myself from future pain...

...but it hurt so good.

There are few things more satisfying in this world than pwning the hell out of your friends, and there is no more satisfying way to pwn them than with an over-and-A smash. (Or maybe a drill off the side of the platform; that's always a crowd pleaser.) If you haven't become addicted to Smash Bros. yet, then this is the perfect time to begin. The new game for the Wii is one of the best games ever created. That's really all that needs to be said. Well, ok, there's one caveat: you need friends to enjoy this game.

This game is great, but if you don't have any friends (and you can't afford Rent-a-Friends) then it isn't nearly as much fun. Sure, you can practice by yourself, but that's really just so you can embarass everybody in the tri-state area by blasting them with a Jigglypuff Valium-bomb when you enter that big $50 tournament next month. By itself, Super Smash Bros. Brawl just ain't that awesomely extreme.

So, in summary, if you have friends, or a little brother and sister, or a pet kangaroo that can grasp a nunchuck in his forepaws and scream "WOOO! Eat my giant hammer you shitty yellow Poke-bitch!!!" then you should buy this game and make them play it with you. After the initial soreness, you'll grow to enjoy the pain and I dare say you'll never love another (fighting game.)

But if you don't have any friends, go buy a dating sim.

Brolo's Game Reviews, Official Score:

97.646282983% (if you have friends)
65.3333% (if you're all alone in this world)

Pwn long and prosper,
Brolo

 

What I'm listening to: Amon Amarth

Do you like songs about fighting and pillaging? Maybe some upbeat war anthems about slaughtering helpless villagers and enslaving the survivors to row your longboat? Do you like face-pounding, mind-shredding death metal? Well then, you'll LOVE these guys. Viking metal FTW!

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The Manly Gamer

"Let me live deep while I live; let me know the rich juices of red meat and stinging wine on my palate, the hot embrace of warm arms, the mad exultation of battle when the blue blades flame and crimson, and I am content." - Conan

Life is what you make of it.
I am Brolo, and I make fun of it.