The following is the latest in a series of journal entries chronicling the author’s descent into next-gen gaming degeneracy and assorted geekery – from getting his first television in years to trying to figure out why the @$@$&@@ you need two goddamn directional pads just to walk down an effing hallway.
The following is the latest in a series of journal entries chronicling the author’s descent into next-gen gaming degeneracy and assorted geekery — from getting his first television in years to trying to figure out why the @$@$&@@ you need two goddamn directional pads just to walk down an effing hallway. I’m writing to you today as a simple gamer, with a simple dilemma: What happens when you’ve achieved everything you can in a game, save for its one final challenge – and that challenge is so tedious, so time-sucking, that achieving it actually makes you feel bad about yourself?
