you know what anonus, you are now reading this post in a southern accent
you can sit on top of a flagpole in northern july while I sip my fairies on your candy apple bellbottom mescaline cactus in the northern light show of the year. Furthermore, I will fucking complaxicare the cuils by which we measure the situation from the outward radius of the spokes of the sun with another sign like a stop one but backwards and green instead of rusty rummy red. Honestly? I don't even think you could broom closet a janitor within one of those holographic mushroom pads that are all the rage with the kids nowadays when they're bike-flipping off of their futuristic 2018 hoverboards and shit.
To be real about it though, I don't think I could yodel with the best of them if the best of them is really a pickle lemon jar bell pepper halapunya mojave desert canadian mexican northern kansas border entree. But while the dust settles over the candyland wars in the unified kingdom of hyrule-gensokyo, we can all agree that it would've been better if the atomic bomb had been dropped on northern Wells-Fargo's category calypso center instead of the large basin of saltwater and bedsheets it actually was. I don't think one can seriously argue that neon lights don't make good replacement crosses for the symbols of eighty billion religious figures and a half-ton hat gun. Yet, we can see that dessert desert snowcone jalapia across the northern plains. Even if we already knew that fish and chips didn't really work when combined with metal gear solid expressway espresso contrail station dream journal.
I'm not really sure what else I can say about that, other than that we need more pickle-cacti in this country and fewer octopus treacles.
Remember back in the 50s when they'd record like Elvis singing YOU AIN'T NOTHIN BUT A HOUND DOG and then they'd turn the record over and reverse it and it was all NYERP NYERP NYERP NYERP NYERP and people were all like, "That is actually the voice of Satan coming from that song."
Sticker-related crimes are on the rise these days. Mushroomkingdom is no exception.
Bleh. It doesn't offer anything beyond a typical Mario platformer plot-wise, and the partner system is completely eradicated.
It's really terrible.
I was worried about the eradication of the partner system...
Intelligent kinda canned it with SPM, evidently they didn't feel like writing for a few more characters (most of the Pixls that aren't Tippi hint at some personality but as soon as they join you they shut up; it doesn't help that Tippi already kinda serves as Mario's voice there anyway).
The thing that pisses me off about Sticker Star is that the sticker mechanic could have been used really creatively with the partner system. There could have been stickers exclusive to partners. There could have been combination attack stickers, and given that you can use more than one sticker in battle (if you're lucky) it could have been used creatively. But Sticker Star said "fuck that" and the sticker system is now just a 50% more annoying version of the regular-ass command system.
Comments
go home Anonus
you are drunk.
you can sit on top of a flagpole in northern july while I sip my fairies on your candy apple bellbottom mescaline cactus in the northern light show of the year. Furthermore, I will fucking complaxicare the cuils by which we measure the situation from the outward radius of the spokes of the sun with another sign like a stop one but backwards and green instead of rusty rummy red. Honestly? I don't even think you could broom closet a janitor within one of those holographic mushroom pads that are all the rage with the kids nowadays when they're bike-flipping off of their futuristic 2018 hoverboards and shit.
To be real about it though, I don't think I could yodel with the best of them if the best of them is really a pickle lemon jar bell pepper halapunya mojave desert canadian mexican northern kansas border entree. But while the dust settles over the candyland wars in the unified kingdom of hyrule-gensokyo, we can all agree that it would've been better if the atomic bomb had been dropped on northern Wells-Fargo's category calypso center instead of the large basin of saltwater and bedsheets it actually was. I don't think one can seriously argue that neon lights don't make good replacement crosses for the symbols of eighty billion religious figures and a half-ton hat gun. Yet, we can see that dessert desert snowcone jalapia across the northern plains. Even if we already knew that fish and chips didn't really work when combined with metal gear solid expressway espresso contrail station dream journal.
I'm not really sure what else I can say about that, other than that we need more pickle-cacti in this country and fewer octopus treacles.
Pants.
That is all.
'cuz you didn't fight him, he just said things.