whole afternoon to idealize the female in a 8x8 grid of pixels. Sixteen colors, three mono channels of pure subtractive synthesis. The old Grundig greenish gray box that says "Nintendo". Sometimes the boxes were mica. In any magazine he explained why. No Google or Wikipedia, to which to help you find solutions. The game remained a mystery to solve every day, every time again. Eighth world, three lives left: cagavi you under, and how. It systematically subivi Freudian traumas. Continuously, in industrial quantities. Learn to hate your mother, your little brother's friend on the phone whenever you can not stop before a jump, or when he entered the castle. Your mother hated, hated, and Toad, that transvestite who was in a different language you understand that the princess was in another castle. And you: "Okay, give me more." The nightmare of the Hammer brothers, that prick the bubble and so red with thorns. And why not Mario faints force may split bricks with his head? How do you manage to stay alive under water for so long? Still waiting, impassive passing the octopus does not go away if you look ...
kid, you can not understand. And neither do you, woman of your dreams. Princess unattainable premonition of future sequelae of frustrating disappointment in love: risk his skin to save you from the despotic and sputafiamme monstrous tortoise, and you miss you're there.
0 comments:
Post a Comment