A Letter to Players I (do not) Hate

Dear Xbox Live Players,

Please stop spamming my inbox with messages about how you are hosting a boost lobby. I do not appreciate weeding through all the voice messages that begin with a prepubescent boy calling attention to his “friends and recent players” while forgetting to mention that by “friends” he means “random people whom he has never met”. Why would I want you to boost me? You sound like half a tard and I distinctly remember teabagging you for the majority of the game. Let me give you some advice. Next time you are sitting in the deep dark recesses of your bedroom and thinking about sending out some boost spam, go to the mall and stare at all the girls who use summer as an excuse to dress like whores. Who knows, maybe one of them will talk to you or sneeze Chlamydia on you. Maybe you’ll die! Exciting, no?

While we are talking about spam, I would like to publicly announce that I will (not) murder the next person who sends me another damn screenshot from a game that I wasn’t even in! I will (not) hunt you down and kidnap you and I most certainly will (not) feed you to an old, lust-filled Catholic priest! I hear there are only so many altar boys to go around.

If it is not too much to ask, I would also like to request that anybody who uses Axe body spray not be permitted to use the Internet. It is a well-known fact that Axe body spray combines with certain molecules in the body to create super-aggression and the inability to get an erection. Sometimes I get messages from people yelling about how they lost and somehow I can just smell the Axe, as if the words came directly out of the can. In this case, there is no punishment I can deal out because I know you guys are already too busy with all the (not) being naked in front of each other and the arousal that may (or may not) come from said state.

I guess what I am really (not) trying to say here is STOP SENDING ME MESSAGES unless you have something useful to say. Thanks.

Hate,

Not Judas

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Mass Effect 2: A Breakup Letter

Dear Mass Effect 2,

Mass Effect 2. Dearest, Mass Effect 2. Whatever will I do with you? We’ve had our good times and bad, but you’ve made some decisions that have left me scratching my head. You’ve changed ever since your early years as Mass Effect 1, and while I’m still the same old Shepherd, you’re not the same game I fell in love with. This is going to be hard to hear, especially since it seems you have millions upon millions of admirers and–dare I say?—fanboys, but sometimes the hardest things to hear are the most important.

First, I’d like to say that you still sport that superb storytelling that first drew me to you. Actually, in this area you’ve improved across the board. Recruiting team members, gaining their trust, and simply getting to know each person—each one flawed, fleshed out, and masterfully written—was a treat. The voice acting has been ratcheted up to another level; Martin Sheen is Shepherd’s boss in this go around, and every time I heard his voice, I imagined him sitting behind his desk in the West Wing. I’d go to the ends of the universe and back for President Bartlet, and in fact I did.

Meet President Bartl--err, the Illusive Man

But here’s the thing: your universe feels empty, beloved Mass Effect 2. When I returned to the Citadel, the whole scale and grandeur I had felt when I first walked through the Presidium and Wards was completely lost. I remember back in our old days, when you were still Mass Effect 1, we would romp about planets, and even if they were empty, at least we were romping. Sure, the vehicle controls sometimes sucked, but it sure beat the hell out of sending probes to scour a planet for minerals. Finding minerals might be the most boring thing I’ve done in a video game for a long time. The inclusion of hacking mini games is certainly an improvement over the old you, but still, don’t ever make me scan planets, ever again. My play through lasted 35 hours. That’s a pretty big chunk of time, but at the same time, I’d say at least 5 of those hours were spent gathering resources.

Pretty, but you won't be seeing this much

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