[via only trippy stuff, click to enlarge]

Using this dope artwork to remind you to play Super Mario Galaxy 2. It’s pure banana-engorging funtime.

[Search Engine Terms come from an app in the Word Press dashboard. It tells you the terms that people are using in google to lead to your site. Most of ours are ultra depraved and horrible. And amusing to sick people like me.]

[image via all games beta]

This shit is everywhere today, but what the fuck, why not mention it here? It’s a slow news day, I ain’t got nothing on my plate but academic articles and perpetual escape to pornography to break up the drudgery.

via kotaku:

Super Mario Crossover is a flash recreation of the original Super Mario Bros. with a twist. You can choose to play as Mario, sure, but you can also play as five other classic gaming icons, complete with their weapons and special moves. Simon Belmont has his whip. When Bill eats a mushroom, he gains rapid-fire. Mega Man can slide, Link has his boomerang, and Samus can plant bombs in her ball form. Even the music changes to match each character. It’s brilliant.

Play this shit over at the creator’s website. Dude is a god.

What The Rock wants to know is what fresh hell is this?!*

*I’m having way too much fun reliving my childhood through wrestling experiences on Youtube these days.

HOW CAN ANYONE SURVIVE THESE VICIOUS BLOWS?

Krang from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles is the fucking man. Why, you ask? I ask you, why the fuck do you even have to ask! Have I said “ask” enough yet?

Let’s see. He’s a talking brain. A talking brain. He’s a talking brain with arms. And he’s a talking brain that controls a robot body. The robot body that wears sunglasses, despite not having to see, and violent red underwear. Who the fuck thought this shit up? It’s fucking brilliant. Just how much coke were people in the 1980’s on? Someone really sat there, and was like,

I have an idea! Let’s make a talking brain, with fucking arms! FUNNEL ME MORE DRUGS. And then, then, then…HE’LL USE A ROBOT BODY THAT HAS FUCKING SICK SUNGLASSES ON. MY NOSE BURNS I SEE GOD.

Well done, sir.

It’s one of the eternal debates: what fat bastard was   the coolest fat bastard of the WWF? I got to thinking about it yesterday, and it’s been difficult to pick a side. I mean, Yokozuna was awesome. But then there was Earthquake. Earthquake was like the hillbilly version of Yokozuna. He was just as fat, except he had a sweet ass skullet and lightning bolts on his uniform.

Both of their finishing moves were the typical Fat Bastard finishing move: they squished you with their stunning ass. Like, literally, their ass stunned you. After they were done with you, you were a paralyzed mush of humanity. Can you even imagine what lurks in the crevices of Earthquake’s fatty leg rolls? Sweet Jesus Christ. There’s got to be dingleberries, little flecks of shit, half a roll of toilet paper, dried semen, a buffalo wing, a remote control for his VCR, and a litter of now-dead, but previously-cute kittens.

If I had to chose, I’m going Earthquake. His aforementioned skullet would seal the deal by itself, but he also has a sick plumage of chest hair, and when he teamed up with Tugboat to form the Natural Disasters, it was an alliance the likes of which we may never see again. It was actually the threat of the USA deploying them into Pinko Russian that brought down the Berlin Wall. It’s true, look it up on the internet.