Dodgers at White Sox, TV Programming Feb 27th 2018

Baseball Update

https://gameuniverso.deviantart.com/art/Review-of-Dodgers-at-White-Sox-Feb-27th-2018-733183820

Note: Deviant Art is safe and George Washington fakes are stupid.

The Worst Atari Controller

The Worst Atari Controller

Remember pong?  That’s the worst.  Atari Pong comes with a paddle and is the worst Atari controller EVER.  When you play Atari’s classic game with such a controller, you can’t use the controller with mostly anything else.  Pong is just… pong.  

We can play with numerous games on our controllers for the more recent Atari machines.  Game from game we play for the beating of a trick and wild fun.  You get that with Atari Pong and only have it with Atari Pong with the Atari Pong.  The Atari 5200 Super System is filled with numerous games that I can pick up on; numerous goods and bads, it can get fun to deal with such a machine because there’s more than one game.  More game means more controller.  My complaint about the Atari 5200 is that there was never a pong game.  Imagine “5200 Super Pong” with Pac-Man!  Atari Jaguar, Atari 7800, and Atari Lynx also have numerous good and bad games and hence there’s more opportunity for your Atari controllers of recent years.  Heck, even the Atari 2600 Joystick is way, way more innovative and exciting than… pong.  

Atari Pong?  ONLY PONG.  All you get with that machine is pong, variations of pong, variations of courses, games, and difficulties, and nothing else.

I think videogame critics need their brains fixed.  

https://youtu.be/X53eJ8AWQ9Y

Dodger Game Review, Feb 25 2018 at the Seattle Mariners

This is Felix Hernandez.  You can see his Mariner uniform.  The Seattle Mariners today have worn something different than this, although the style is style bold and strong.

Photo Attribution: By hj_west from USA (King Felix is ready  Uploaded by Muboshgu) [CC BY-SA 2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Dodger Game Review, Feb 25 2018 at the Seattle Mariners

Action as usual.  Even the points the Mariners have earned aren’t very exciting on the 25th of February, a month with casual moods at the place where the Dodgers are determining energy to the point of articulation if not outright things to prepare.  The sports announcers for the game on LA’s channel for Spectrum have been a little antsy and dismissive, huh?  I don’t know.  There’s something I whiff from the baseball game for Preseason that less which I don’t care much on.  At least Kershaw is still throwing pitches with plenty of elbow grease from time to time and some player injured from last year has returned to stake claim on the baseball swinging part.  Often this game for the 25th has felt dumb and I can’t make baseball fans watch all of the poor or average stuff.  Put clearly, I don’t like “average”.  My truth here can’t be considered rubbish.  Various obstacles are indicated in the game with the usual fashion of professional league baseball.  Action goes to action, defense to defense, sometimes reversed with little definitions hidden in the clouds or somewhere over the rainbow where sprinklers go off against the fate of used blades of grass.  Usual stuff out of professional playing sounds cliche but whenever I’m pinpointing on excellence and foul play, accidents can happen.  For example, consider my position of reckoning the baseball game while some particular readers make me a nervous wreck.  Why such circumstance?  Because the metal looks funny on their microwaves, beans are too cold, “my husband is drunk again”, peculiar onslaught in much space towards our baseball universe, for which, through and through, fans dispute with others at times when there’s absolutely nothing special to appeal to.  Imagine me snoring by a Mexican afghan after the talk show host leaves me disgruntled with his poor logic of which I think he should apologize for.  What’s his name?  Don’t remember.  What I remember is attempting at rest and failing at the ship, going or flowing where it counts.  Maybe I’m referring to fans of great nature as opposed to all fans.  The whole crowd ought to be considered, so I’ll try reckoning.  However they get food at a stadium depends on the promiscuous act made before the field lines and diminishing returns.  Surely the Los Angeles Dodgers aren’t ready yet.  There’s too much standing and not enough swinging and I’m getting sick of the average victories and losses.  Even the Seattle Mariners are more aim than pump.  While it may be true that the teams are still getting ready or disputing over senses, imagination is key to understanding, hence there’s understanding in baseball which requires imagination.  Consider the imagination behind the swing, imagination behind running, fancy and logical disorder through subtle means of ball playing.  Do fans out there even KNOW the Dodgers’ imaginations?  Tallies and points are just scratches on a post; we need action!   

    

https://www.mlb.com/mariners

Mountain Photo

"Landing the Mountain" by GameUniverso (I chose that nickname)

There's spots in California with beauty to which I explore grounds within close attention.
A mountain is as big as tons of computers.  Can you imagine?
I'd like it if you paid money for a picture or a poem.  Try sending me a message on what poem you'd like.
Photography is what I do for whoever's interested.

https://gameuniverso.deviantart.com/art/Landing-the-Mountain-732863538

Restaurant Review, Denny’s 9000 Magellan Dr Tehachapi, CA 93561

NOTE: This isn't the restaurant I go to but it represents what Denny's can be.

Photo Attribution: By Billy Hathorn (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0) or GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html)], via Wikimedia Commons

Restaurant Review, Denny’s in Tehachapi

Denny’s is a flat spot when it comes to relaxation.  Each dish is as individual however you get salt and pepper shakers for your delight after we express its connection through my review with an imaginary position to admit over satisfaction.  An egg remains of its edge by delicious taste when given the cooking for my hot breakfast and hence my drift on that yellow food ought to give indication on the favor done.  The nice crew gives me welcome on being sorry for the deserts far among us so my good word for this 24/7 restaurant may be as long after its image while light disappears through rain with grey colors near our windows as stars begin its appearance by effect over grounds.  Your lobby is generally overwintering in February as mountains get snow in little fades between good times and promises.  My family’s here often.  We’re buffeted from traffic around our Kia.  Stuff which Denny’s does right can expel plenty of mistakes as implied with a favor I do for recognizing dishes made fresh and easy like those various sandwiches besides goods.  Little definitions go back where they started from- teenagers across from my table have phones for stiff portraits and BuzzFeed, everything is rushlike during a late hour, my thoughts are as old as dad’s shadow behind his neck where the restaurant is carved against the neat sky of evening.  He feels the same when music changes.  “Personality” just about extends any laughter to be had before rock on radio at Denny’s appeals to peace on Earth throughout all of heard sweetness.  Customers go sidling through the door when a waiter leads me to a table every other week where I’ve raked straws on my drinks.  Feeling is the same when a song changes.  Nathan turns a burger into his personal creation above good chairs yet really knows the odds and ends to healthy pickles, savory meat, and ketchup bottles which only lay next to favorites: double burger, double bacon.  I can add a dusting of salt to my fries near those empty fields around our restaurant where the local wind farm is reflected by walls, crew, and drivers with keen interest on whatever privilege serves as rural life or hotspot, destinations or wolf cry.  Our thoughts on ice cream aren’t so natural although many flavors realized withhold the recent moments as treats over drinks under noise and confusion.  Dreams along for every trip get less bitter until good taste is probable during my cold.  Risks this diner has for its sharp performance must eventually be their final shots but at least mom’s club sandwich is eaten with a different toasted quality than what my breakfast sandwich is sampled of.  Venturing off at this rural location next to Shell can be appealing if nature around us is only possessed on succeeding and beautiful levels, so it’s a complete package.  Breakfast needs its respect.  Goodies on radio must try appeal wherever a better mind doesn’t need error.  Toast is rather light at Denny’s since butter is given in a considerable size, gentlemen might end up with loads of ranch.

Restaurant Review, Lillie’s Asian Cuisine 129 E Fremont St Golden Nugget Hotel & Casino Las Vegas, NV 89101

Restaurant Review, Lillie’s Asian Cuisine in Las Vegas

A beautiful kitchen with red.  Two chefs deal on food for customers against grills in such radiance where meat has gently been cooked until noise of steaming and perfection is heard throughout Lillie’s Asian Cuisine.  Vegetables are combined from time to time when there’s natural flavor between warm metal grills and echoes of the hissing mass either chef uses to impress witnesses of teppanyaki near counters under so much glow, presentation, and a healthy fusion of Chinese and Japanese influence at the little joint in the Golden Nugget where general exotic forms are pleasing to my favor on their cost and performance.  The door is shut after the stroke of twelve when it’s important for the restaurant to leave its fortune on glowing red decorations and frames with an Asian style to defense and overall train of midnight across from the business desk close to Starbucks.  Meals are provided in style, complete detail, and good dishes which show true colors over beauty.  Spring and training are ahead for the creative kitchen with the promise of yearly fortune and privilege.  Human touch around the restaurant where drinkers of water and laughter gather by those glowing bars may serve as a reminder that the forms of things outside the joint and across from insiders get less static, less rigid because of the Asian kitchen’s harmony or dramatic output of life.  I try to make sense of the environment before mileage leaves all casual mood in this soul of mine as high as LV’s city lights (which are fantastic to the point of recognition).  Jellyfish noodles at Lillie’s have been exaggerated on with my server in dinner talk yet make for an excellent, cold dessert before me and a couple of fellow tourists from our bus dig into a Cantonese noodle’s foundation of egg, heat, and strings of texture.  Soy sauce drips if not pours in elegance over choice dishes through prominence we take near firm pictures hanging on the grey or black wall every one of us possess as eye candy although they’re a great mythological influence for Fremont, 4th, and the Golden Nugget.  Wine shall be redeemed excellent under the lit and shadowy roof.  What’s common for one patron in the restaurant might be a rare opportunity for some drifter around the corner ever after.  Chances are the perfect match among friends will remind such guys of ramen noodles with even more specialty involved while hotel guests sneak a peak through the hole in the wall to find marvelous food being enjoyed over wanderlust or actual spirits of demand.  On my radar, the restaurant’s or kitchen’s list is full of Asian wonders by all means through professional execution, busy crowds, lovely decorations, and dishes which take Lillie’s risks of business to a whole new level of appetite- wine more costly than a noodle, brisk sips of water near teppanyaki at its cooking of a nice whiff.

Restaurant Review, White Castle 107 N 4th St Las Vegas, NV 89101

Restaurant Review, White Castle in Las Vegas

Something nice is going on at White Castle.  There’s plenty of things to do near Fremont as burgers are provided by their crew without vain alarms.  Brown mustard is good on all sliders around the lobby from being delicious and modern until I leave the door across from clean tables to its fashion of exit and entrance in typical allowance.  Las Vegas can show its brightness in huge letters and signage for which pedestrians at night crawl in traffic against city background through all neon light, from various points, at the hotspots of entertainment and risks of business although White Castle shows more of their quality and a good deal of stuff when melted cheese touches some patties with ketchup as an option, fries to lean over with delight, and colorful shirts on sale behind this appealing glass panel close to a kind manager or two at the register, 24/7 with precision and focus.  All of the crew put burgers together and have them flat in their boxes with neat wrappers.  We have a good deal of knowledge by moonlight as friends gather around me for our desert to claim near Walgreens and Indian craft, generally next to White Castle with distance if not sudden remodels that have rushed the hours against new ground.  Such a desert is old and hollow when there’s so much destiny between those faint echoes and my personal space.  Many restaurants in these parts are like rocks we pass by.  Nevada has strength in numbers even if steak is given with appreciation of luxury and mobility at the Golden Nugget close to White Castle by a long shot for which people are assisting each other’s hands upon the colorful streets of light.  Down at the corners of tourist attractions I’ll find White Castle to be a good location while music inside the building lets me get closer to the popular signage all over the streets, absolutely to the point of excitement and real chicken.  Sometimes I get bored.  Food can’t be average or terrible at White Castle when everything is served hot and fresh out of the joint with precision and casual mood because workers around the place know how pinpointing goes for delicious meals.  Excitement is constantly on my mind just with being near Fremont and the Golden Nugget.  Food generally is prepared at White Castle with Germanic effect, the brown mustard having its important and daily spices for a cashier’s presentation, so the burgers ought to have enough taste and savory goodness just for the sakes of support towards the best of what quick, convenient food has to offer.  Fries around here make me happy for neat little potatoes with crinkles, style, and heat on an individual basis.  I’ve bought a bottle of that mustard as indicated in this review for my dad so he can enjoy stuff from the deli at home on the importance of such matters.  One can’t really tell visitors to Nevada to hold off on rare opportunities unless they’re for a better mind to experience, as such flavors at White Castle often have the taste of rich meat whenever customers are pardoning themselves under the roof with so much comfort and privilege.  A nice day outside can bring us back in the restaurant and have things in our favor.  Quite a lot has happened since White Castle arrived in Las Vegas a bit of time prior to its invitation to residents and tourists over casual dining.  Really nice things occur as I’m dealing with a friendly manager from time to time when picking up a sack of burgers for the road to my hotel room.  Quite often the things which are considered normal by my standards are really special however I return to gambling on the Wheel.  Let’s pick our situations with the general favor we do for restaurants when they’re busy on great amounts of courage against the nice environment, even if it means picking up a sack.

       https://www.google.com/maps/place/White+Castle/@36.1687749,-115.146683,19z/data=!4m5!3m4!1s0x80c8c384248578e1:0x4476940fc515682!8m2!3d36.1701542!4d-115.1417719  

"Milky Way" by GameUniverso (I'm a weirdo)

"Milky Way" by GameUniverso (I'm a weirdo)

Welcome to my world!
There's something funny about you.














https://gameuniverso.deviantart.com/art/Milky-Way-731824783

"Purple Set" by GameUniverso (guess who?)

"Purple Set" by GameUniverso (guess who?)

I was in my bedroom when I noticed this purple colored cloud hanging around outside.
So, I decided to take a picture and turn it into something abstract.
This is different because there seem to be to windows: one black, one a mixture of purples.

https://gameuniverso.deviantart.com/art/Purple-Set-731632638

Report on Market Watch

This is an article from Market Watch. It's talk about income discrimination and details on its subtle implications for how black people in the United States suffer because of bad products or even products meant to be used on others with extreme prejudice, which is what Richard Eisenberg calls "predatory". A problem with the U.S.A. from my perspective is that poetry is hardly considered by the ignorable public, so, on and on, years pass for the worse for poor Americans since the rich may shield themselves with appropriate means and support. For voting purposes, I'm mostly liberal but rather indifferent if you were to go over things in depth with me. What's interesting is that income can be rare for so many Americans and economic privilege may be bleak for such populations. This article does make suggestions, however, that I find outstanding- if we're to mandate our incomes on equality, then how do we distinguish between those who work hard and those who work little? Food is provided with work. Water is provided with work. After all, it's about welfare and salary as well as deserved income. Let's not be mistaken. You can't expect a guy to make smart choices in spending if he or she already has little income; try telling such a person, "Hey, you deserve to be poor", and you're bound to get into a heated argument over the chances and reasons of American capitalism and hints of communism. All such external feelings may coincide less with internal feelings and more with lucky shots, rare opportunities, and specific circumstances.

https://www.marketwatch.com/story/this-is-the-real-reason-many-americans-stay-poor-2018-02-13?link=TD_nypost_articles.7c7e0f416376f79f&utm_source=nypost_articles.7c7e0f416376f&utm_campaign=circular&utm_medium=MARKETWATCH

Duck Photos

https://gameuniverso.deviantart.com/gallery/

Try the link above!  I've posted images of ducks.

Videogame Review, Kaboom! for the Atari 5200

Videogame Review, Kaboom! for the Atari 5200

Great comedy!  Kaboom! isn’t your ordinary game because it’s a parody between sing-sing and the 1812 Overture with smashing details for the quick bomb tasks- joysticks twist and turn until bombs only magnify their onslaught through pinpointing, firecracking, a prisoner’s intimate smile, explosives rolling over the green haven, even if it means trusting instincts while terrible music is played bit by bit along with buckets of splashing graphics from all the nice blue water.  Maybe it’s too early to make some changes to my bright mood expressed here in visuals of which my review demands so much space and personal choice, but Kaboom! (to make my point clear without being too fashionable and stupid) presents us with explosive consequences to which this prisoner in black-and-white stripes doesn’t chortle but instead assumes malversation on which he disposes of working flames your way with extreme prejudice, almost like a criminal’s dream of making the basic things out of life as silly as possible, yet, whenever I’m going through the 8-bit motion and squeezing my joystick against Atari’s professional rubber boot, plates are slashing and dicing upon each other’s grooves any time I indicate action with a palmed fist in my gamer’s glove.  Such slicing and dicing as I like to refer to movements throughout Kaboom!’s 8-bit universe of stretched green and magnificent score initials for analog arcade gameplay- if I say so myself- really works up appetite because the popular jingle from the 1812 Overture, although it’s not the entire classical music song, encourages me to mandate my effective moves with a lot of that prisoner’s extreme prejudice when realized for particular input of switching between buckets of water for the dismantling of blue or black bombs.  So why am I hesitant about recommending this game?  Because the controls are probably great to me only because I’m a geometric expert who grew up with analog control on the N64 and generally the Atari 5200 has been my alter ego in actual materials despite the fact so many gamers from the 70’s/80’s time prefer joysticks with a more simple rhythm and approachable control.  My problem here is not that the Atari 5200 controller doesn’t have enough control; au contraire, such a black device as this is with yellow numbers and some of the sweetest letter colors I’ve seen since Sesame Street came into my life can only be managed if you’re willing to be responsible for exclusive odds and ends to control of which haven’t been very much disputed and respected on with special conversation.  Kaboom! is a great game if someone is interested in it in spite of fashion.  Sometimes I think spite can be remarkable if you’re trying to be unbiased and impartial.  Fashion that exists out there for the Atari 5200 is generally painful, distressing, and totally bad, for gamers have approached the Atari 5200 on rare moments only to in turn spit in Atari’s face, remark on something gross, make excuses when just as unlearned, and, through and through, Atari has to appeal to this sort of crowd since they also are likely to touch on the Atari 2600 and even the old pong machines.  Kaboom! can be considered a more advanced form of pong since it’s trying to maintain a fictional story along with improved graphics and astronomical joystick movements.  This 5200 joystick is very much like holding and swinging with a baseball bat; it has the right texture in movement, feel over swift decisions, and basically detracts from the beliefs of gamers used to simpler joysticks more than complex joysticks.  Don’t dismiss the joystick just yet, though.  Isn’t the Xbox controller complex, too?  Criticism was given in Ventura’s newspaper about Microsoft’s “first” videogame console and that includes its controller: “it’s too big for a child’s hands”.  Perhaps adults are ungrateful of video games and are often more childish than children are.  Children (if the name can justify their immaturity) do get into trouble from lack of experience and yet also don’t have enough experience to get into even more trouble.  For one thing, the Xbox controller and the 5200 controller have been accepted by so many children in recent years; such kids lack ego, including the nasty kinds, hence they’re more indifferent and receptive of new devices, new consoles, new games, even if it means they refuse to have any sort of opinion on their modern habits at times as well.  Really, I want to be a kid again!  Kaboom! spreads out the criminal’s masterpiece in execution; multiplayer, big pails, little pails, such 8-bit world is tremendous for the 1812 Overture cliche and, through magnification of classical music and behaviors worse than boring life, funny stuff happens on the screen, my joystick is understood because of my educated privilege (although most of my personal gaming experience just comes from money and time, not school), and, when bombs explode upon the green field with rolling effect and diminishing flames, Kaboom! ought to be recognized, praised, and glorified in a future application whether it’s by Atari or Activision.  Rough character from the prisoner may make gamers uncomfortable; however, since you guys are probably thinking of manipulative goals and ignorable patience, let’s try opening our eyes to more of what makes 8 bits interesting, exciting, and (quite frankly) brilliantly abstract.  

This is the game for the Atari 2600.  Its cover isn't the game, but you get the idea.  The Atari 5200 version is in a box with a cover that shows a prisoner with a greedy grin.

Photo Attribution: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/4/47/Kaboomcover.jpg

https://youtu.be/1P1rFbbSKbY

Article from Sports Illustrated- Houston Astros Have a Home

This article by Sports Illustrated is confusing.  Great information is given on baseball, but it's more drift than picture.  Still, the Houston Astros have given their all for what came of 2017 with their world series victory.  I don't know; there seems to be misprints in this article because it's confused reality to the point of moving sentences which are poetry more than reality.  Poetry is my art, too.  Thing is, I've been reading this article for over an hour and I still don't know where the Houston Astros are in the story.  Did they really face the Chicago Cubs in the World Series at some point?  Ben Reiter, the writer of this special webpage, most certainly isn't historic without considerable flaws to the article such as what I've indicated in my personal theory.  Athletes are cooks, but not all cooks are really athletes; Ben is right there.  Baseball stadiums are more about legacy in general than simple comfort food, although (between you and I) I'd eat something vegan over there at Minute Maid.  Kool-Aid, whatever it's called.  Dodgers had already won the World Series; now it's Astros' time!

Sports Illustrated link: https://www.si.com/longform/astros/index.html

Photo Attribution: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/6/6b/Houston-Astros-Logo.svg/1200px-Houston-Astros-Logo.svg.png

Book Review, Constantinople: Capital of Byzantium by Johnathan Harris

Book Review, Constantinople: Capital of Byzantium by Johnathan Harris

All of the evidence given is better than Johnathan’s speculation.  This book is misguided with his wishful thinking and is riddled with unannounced rumors he’s responsible for.  Here’s a quote.  It’s on page 114 with no reference to another book printed in ink.  “He and other money changers and bankers may well have been appreciated for the service that they provided, possibly enabling even those of relatively modest means to store what money they made in good times as a reserve against times of dearth, although specific evidence for this is lacking.”  Such talk is poetic yet not historic.  Numerous passages throughout the book are just guesses Harris tries to force onto his readers with extreme simplicity and definitions so obvious you can guess them from visiting Hollywood.  Seriously, I’m grossly offended.  How can a scholar take up so many books for reading only to cough out things which are extremely basic?  Constantinople is a better subject for geniuses as opposed to simpletons.  Demand for notoriety by Harris leads to his horrible miscalculations because he can’t even represent his own beliefs well to the point of academic accuracy.  So many readers like this book.  Why?  Miscalculations by Harris can’t be taken lightly in the academic world, for, through him wanting to be something he’s not, Constantinople: Capital of Byzantium serves as another example of a poet who has more evidence on money than guaranteed speculation.  Russian honey is mentioned, as are quicklime and electrum, but his overall vision is hindered with too many repetitions of basics which never go into a more special meaning.  Constantinople is old.  That’s obvious, so why enunciate the concept with pretentious variations on language?  Just because someone writes a whole damn book doesn’t automatically mean there’s vivid designations in writing; in fact, from all of Harris’ extreme simplicity, my eyesores are worse than larger-than-life meanings in the nature around me.  McDonald’s sounds pretty good at this point.  Historians!  Please don’t make poetry into history and refuse to tell others it’s poetry.  We have to learn when to turn the poetry button off.  Johnathan tries way too hard to be honest even when any and all honesty only leads to fictional storytelling and dramatic output of text visuals.  Really gross, souls must be crying.  Making matters worse, Harris has gotten into information concerning pedantic folks who linger around Constantinople’s quarters with vehemence, distaste, and unverified truths.  Even truth needs a helping hand.  You can’t just display hot text in front of peers and expect them to meld into clay no one has to worry about.  What a shame.  I feel bad for the readers who are fooled into the book’s simplicity just for the sakes of lazy, casual thinking of which so many Americans nowadays promote with the retarded notion of equality.  Differences arise!  That’s what makes us human.  Respect ought to be given where it’s due, not merely where it’s needed.  Jonathan’s referential data on coins is imprecise and uncompromising for intellectual dispute; for that matter, we’re not going to care so much for a coin’s name when there’s a call blowing in the wind for Constantinople’s destiny and religious privilege.  He announces that there’s religious rumors, but not that there’s his rumors.  Honestly, he’s really underrated his impact on society.  But I’m not being negative; I’m being real on this piece of junk because it fails miserably compared to true academic fervor.  Despite my approach to criticism there’s heat in my body for what comes next out of history books should this review be disguised by somebody else’s doubts.

      

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2338813.Constantinople

Videogame Review, New Super Mario Bros. U for the Nintendo Wii U

Videogame Review, New Super Mario Bros. U for the Nintendo Wii U

Brilliant, flowery, sweet, short, and crisp in attractive colors. Gameplay in general with the controls is as smooth as cutting through butter. Mario Kart 64 has program errors which this game doesn’t have on the Wii U. In fact, certain enemies to the game in question such as ghosts and prickly goombas appear closer to Mario than they really are and the entire Mario Bros. group is redefined with a couple of toads. Bowser is actually a really sweet king but with monstrous tendency, for, along with his referential minions and prestige, such a dragonish individual only demands for love when there’s grossness and greed allowed for Peach’s temper, hot-haired wildness, and casual exercises in pink. It’s just dumb luck. Luigi has his program with strict clocks over the levels to which he greatly leaps in plumber green to meet with eternal dispute on parade, something on which Mario isolates himself at moments when precious gifts hit his gear and he goes flying like a super creature into Bowser’s Neverlands. Bowser and King Koopa are one. My review for this great game should be fair because my details for its gameplay are absolutely guaranteed to shine light on the truth, even if- between chestnut mushrooms and flying 1-ups- more than a few koopas dance to Bowser’s liking as Mario’s course themes are observed with privilege, possible mobility from the Wii U pad, canonized coins, special happenings, random occurrences, and exaggeratingly defined animation. Of course you can always play with legos on the Wii U when times are rough for Batman and Joker and yet I’m appealing to artistic visuals in the Wii U program because, through and through, the “new” Super Mario Bros. for the Wii U demonstrates a special touch of madness to which Bowser maximizes any and all output towards his despicable means of support including other koopas and major enemies. A particular ghost house just shows that copying your friends is not going to make you a better member of casual fellowship towards the new Mario Bros. although brittle items can fall off ledges, edges, and simply hills rolling as wheels after their spinning grass. Between you and me, the Wii U has malfunctions in control when its mobile screen controller is given to take in dust and debris since action in resistance often portrays the missing kernel of truth to video games: germs are enemies. Forget George Carlin and his love of germs; in fact, ignore the gamers on New Super Mario Bros. U who use bad words to describe their stupidity because, quite frankly, I’m sick and exhausted of Hitler and Jesus and would rather not get pleasure out of someone’s hate- I’m spiritual like that and don’t appreciate folks with gross discipline and inappropriate masochism. Sorry. We need to have fun with the overall game because it comes in a complete package with silly fashion typical in the arts of cartoonish, fictional storytelling. Criticism here is admitted for WWF Smackdown! Just Bring It when that wrestling program often portrays the rubber band effects you may kind of expect with the new Mario Bros. but would rather have for a real cartoon world as what Mario lives in when trying to jump upon soft heads when Peach’s kingdom is going down the tubes along with him. Mario’s a doctor, right? Over the years, Mario has been part of numerous roles from tennis official to factory loader. Nintendo 2DS and 3DS share a good number of titles which really indicate the depth to Mario’s love for battle, drama, and heartbreak relationships, something that Mama Luigi applies Yoshi on when dinosaurs quite rule the Toadstool Kingdom with their heavy digestion of eggs, flames, darkened bats, and plenty of other chances to swallow.

https://youtu.be/IQHa4qindfE

Sacramento Poem

Sacramento

Pillows fall into a rose with the Spanish metaphor

for stirring tornados on my flat neared from

convoluted hunger, between nocturnal huesos,

mind after the excuse into one pulling off
spacious ghosts toward our lunar drive as few
as Yak butter through visible weight, all out of

this hyena’s spit over Italian pepper.  What’s

comfort above a painted cross when 2 salons

break even into cactus jacks like your scared

mountain eating its freckles, so much hunted

juniper across twin seeds gardening the early

bird sweat?  If seconds may just fly inside the

red thunder so more than honesty can repair my

toothpicks filled with sweet mirth upon a sailor’s

knot against Vietnamese sewn holes.  Don’t rough

characters like janitor boots with a top reflection

under the biggest gravities, below Tommy’s

sandwich, almost cheered up on footstomp

vibration where targets are given their ventured

exaggerations or a brittle swallow comes off

Disney’s tube for rare bowling of songs, dreamed

as bounced, young throughout cancerous earth

forwarded as global warming: that’s my curious

flesh, shined by war on drugs as it’s evening

spades around drawn bats or simply nourished

talk.  Clay is earthening, swimming, breathing

like an elephant’s tissue beyond recognition for days

out of spite until perfection sweeps over in

dire straits, undergoing dust as a good walk along

the yellow brick road from much free cause purring

within barriers towards ignited waters, not to

mention yarding a foot, dueling with chanced

fur on a barking bugle, on and on, richness of

pain to digits on stringing nomads near Irish

metal onto flipped-page zebroids where magazine

text bleeds fashionistas into printed cliché of beauty.

Desert toys of a juneberry are floating in

the victimization after darkness spreads

on my tub’s nice soak where the daylight ends

at some forestgreen updates, its own

backsplash with rare decoration as bottles

scatter about 5 rainy gutters near parks

harvested with maturity and childhood.  My walk

generalizes as oversized, opening random

floors, wooden islands nearby, as I’m arriving

the fast picture between meanings I can

play at, looking at to the sports with a

television mind on the split plan for Louisianan

frozen dinners, stained cola, poor barbecues,

stretched dollars, and a whipped cream pie

on my wild head for spooks.  No compromise

through yeast, nothing to linger on imagination

to dismiss it with notorious fey,- quite simply,

very complicated to my influence over the breakfast

elixir out of those Coptic murmurs I’ve regressed

from point-to-point visualization beyond

ingredients toward modern freedom of paradises-

fresh hostilities into the defense on the part

when romantic traffic slurs within political lines

of cooperation- “this is an act of terrorism”-

presidents of every club as facial as important wishes

when they’re given exactions on merit in all its

inquisitive scratches.  I’m fooling on the plainness;

you don’t get the picture, you get the drift.  Maybe

eyes or cascades twirl in confrontation of jokes

while ignition gets rushed against vanishing points

(some of which began with obvious art), minding

the business along so many tinseled gateways into a

reflective labyrinth beyond quite a few touched

measurements towards abstract insight.  Oats sting

out of favorited sensation, very much like an old page’s

moisture for which American fairies dress with

probable taste of mixed buildings upon more than

a few banks toward retired coffee- I’ve seen

a disastrous beggar drinking in a piece of sunshine

I call a local dream for the sensualized matrix

of halfs when locations startle their hints by sheer

force.  Cluelessness isn’t a false simile with a

ruined compass on a hike where, trekked, I may

draw crude flames near antiques towards my

shadow’s following dirt on parade to criminal faces

because vistas crave aspirations through magnifications,

under which I proceed all spirit on pressure as the

informal travels go smooth, tangible, oscular, and

roveen on the sheer glow of arcade skills-

press, push, pull, fringing until I mask virtue

with grace, input on everybody’s customs.  How’s

the returning gaze of a price on demonstrated means

when lunatics pour the crawl against transgressive

flows of vehicles while rappers craze over hyper

sadness and figurative goals leap by a teacher’s

overreaching stagnations under misting stars?

Did poetry ever begin?  God Almighty has predestined

atheists in a vacuum before the stiff explosions

for which cats play flutes on the birth statistics

against lovely conclusions, as theories

are guessed on frosted unicorns who explicate a meaningful

void on beauty to created intrinsics of fiction:

back to their hate, back to a promise as returned,

special memes on boring rhyme towards our

forgotten print of existence!  Vikings can fail

on angels where magic’s abounded to rational hearts

for heat through interpieced mystery of vagueness,

only to which Nintendo and rainbow pride can twist

into the light on a Californian’s dark exhibition- a

monster needs bubbles for a dollar if pure weather

towards awkward environmentalism may suck,

although, lucky ancients remind me of socks as I

tuck in my locker on moving reversal of dreamers,

totally spirited in a knocking heart’s disease within

quality of numbers.  More than enough jokers have

waste as conservatism is exasperated with provocative

simplicity on TV and webs to log in, for myths enter

on phrases in my living modes when humor fills

sanctuations upon assorted divisions.  No, I’m cool

with roads and expand my horizons (the “vanishing points”)

by maintenance of scribbles, Earth’s general

proscriptions in my angle for crazes and electric

shocks as forensic.  Resistance succeeds at vanishing

dependables on peace and evil.