Brawl dropped on Sunday, which is great for me and terrible for anyone not interested in tasting a Falchion face-full of smack-down served by the searing edge of Marth‘s Sword of Light. It’s not that I’m that good at the game; I’m not. It’s more to say that I’ve been given the gift of Smash and god dammit, I am going to use it. Actually, I am that good. Deal.

I’m wearing this new underwear that Lex got me. I’m doing this because she does that sort of thing; buys me underwear and makes me wear it. She’s got this way of making sure every minute of my life is packed with the type of security and thoughtfulness you normally wouldn’t expect from a chick more interested in candy and comic books than sometimes remembering look up from her color coordinated DS long enough to breathe.

I just told her to breathe, just now. I wasn’t kidding. Who knows what would’ve happened had I not have done so. I may have just saved a life.

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