DAILY ROUND-UP! 9/24/11

Today, was a saturday where stuff happened and derpity doo!

MARZGURL LOVES ALL DOGS GO TO HEAVEN!

After watching Marzgurl retrospective on one of Don Bluth's best works (and maybe one of the best animated films of all time) I just had to share her views with you guys. Seriously, she has sold me on checking this movie out next time I get a chance to enjoy it. A talking conman Burt Reynolds dog goes to heaven, hell and is a total d-bag. Its special.



FLOWER WARFARE!


Has it already been a year since I first watched a Freddie Wong video? Here are a couple of the first videos I saw of his FX awesome sauce.


AIMBOT!

REAL LIFE PUSS IN BOOTS!

Oh cats, how your internet cuteness vexes me so.

ORSON WELLES- FROZEN PEAS!


This is hilarious and sad. Salarious? Hilaridad?


FROZEN PEAS ANIMATED?


BLOTTOS BROS WINE!

I'M GARY OAK! (I'm on a boat parody)

MIXED BAG. POETRY JAM #1

As part of my goal to post at least two posts a day, I will be using a lot of mixed bag posts and do some more creative and random stuff. First, I'm posting a sample of my poetry that I wrote last Spring. I am an English/History double major and I love writing everything.

 I, CAT THE CONQUEROR

 By Sean Barnes

I, the Cheshire cat devour caged canaries-

In the night, I eat the baby's breath. Hush.

Death tastes like coddled cream. I eat too much.

So, sweet the sound of alley love. I blush.

I, Garfield in Sodom and Gomorrah-

Gluttonous. Never full. Purr.

Seconds, sevenths at dinner. I am no sinner.

I taw a fat puddy tat in the mirror!

I, the Catbus gobble little girls alive-

because I am not a robot. Myow.

Feels like drowning kittens in a bag, y'know?

The wet cat of infanticide. Can't take a joke?

I, Puss-in-Boots am a whoring troubadour-

clean as a politician. Meow.

I am going to run for President now.

Mouth! You talk and eat- and eat and talk, mouth!

I, Tom Cat will catch Jerry Mouse tomorrow-

Fast food, fast forward, fast damnation! Hiss.

French mice are filled with cowardice! Oui oui!

Bonjour! Monsieur Pussy Cat! Vis-à-vis!

The gilded cage of the canary taunted me so-

I was like Sylvester as I pounced. Gulp.

Her yellow feathers fell to the floor.

And so, Quoth the Canary, "Nevermore."