#arich

King Floatzel

Arich (DKC3)

Big Arms (Sonic 3)

Eternal Wind

Like it's shown that arich died after his fight with Dixie and Kiddy, so who's to say that he couldn't have interacted with squitter after?

An article celebrating DKC3′s 25th anniversary has been posted on Yahoo JP! Check it out! 

Skin Diet: These Vitamin A-Rich Foods May Promote Clear And Healthy Skin

Vitamin A sufficiency is important for good skin health. Highlights Vitamin A nutrient is known to boost skin health. There are many foods that can offer a good amount of vitamin A. See the list and include these foods in your diet. While planning our diet, we often focus on bodily health and ignore skin health. We need to always remember that what we eat reflects on our skin. More than…

by Adrienne Rich

I know you are reading this poem late, before leaving your office of the one intense yellow lamp-spot and the darkening window in the lassitude of a building faded to quiet long after rush-hour.

I know you are reading this poem standing up in a bookstore far from the ocean on a gray day of early spring, faint flakes driven across the plain’s enormous spaces around you.

I know you are reading this poem in a room where too much has happened for you to bear where the bedclothes lie in stagnant coils on the bed and the open valise speaks of flight but you cannot leave yet. I know you are reading this poem as the underground train loses momentum and before running up the stairs toward a new kind of love your life has never allowed.

I know you are reading this poem by the light of the television screen where soundless images jerk and slide while you wait for the newscast from the Intifada.

I know you are reading this poem in a waiting-room of eyes met and unmeeting, of identity with strangers.

I know you are reading this poem by fluorescent light in the boredom and fatigue of the young who are counted out, count themselves out, at too early an age.

I know you are reading this poem through your failing sight, the thick lens enlarging these letters beyond all meaning yet you read on because even the alphabet is precious.

I know you are reading this poem as you pace beside the stove warming milk, a crying child on your shoulder, a book in your hand because life is short and you too are thirsty.

I know you are reading this poem which is not your language guessing at some words while others keep you reading and I want to know which words they are.

I know you are reading this poem listening for something, torn between bitterness and hope turning back once again to the task you cannot refuse.

I know you are reading this poem because there is nothing else left to read there where you have landed, stripped as you are.