World Law, agent b, gamestop, your mom

Look, Christopher. I’m sure your resident maternal unit is really fantastic at a lot of things, like navigating a rickety shopping cart through a post apocalyptic TJ Max clearance sale and successfully nuking two Hungry Mans at once for your drifter stepfather. But please, don’t send her to fucking Gamestop. I don’t even want to be there and I write about video games for a living. The shit in there would make her tiny fucking head implode.
You’re 5, your handwriting sucks, and your taste in gaming either also sucks or has been strategically placed outside of your dirty little hands by the powers-that-ESRB. Your snotty, grubby, wrinkled Christmas list does not serve as a suitable hall pass for ma dukes to successfully traverse these dark pits of gaming depravity like a young, misguided (but still shockingly unibrowed) Jennifer Connoly in Labyrinth. You want to dabble in the vices of the adult world? Do what we did when we were 12 and we wanted porn and booze: steal them from your friend’s dad. There won’t be a line and you won’t need any additional worthless MadCatz peripherals or an unofficial Prima strategy guide, you stupid little failure.








