
I'll tell you what though - being such a top games journalist this long has given me a right old overview of the way games have changed. And let me tell you another thing - things have never been so good, mate. Want some proof? Curl your peepers around this lot - it's what people had to do back in the day, before all the proper games started coming out. Boom, mate! Love it, yeah.
See that load of blocky old arthritic rat chuffs up there? That's meant to be a dinosaur. No wonder those saps died out if that's what they looked like. Good riddance to 'em. Last thing we need is dinosaurs roaming around the place - what with all these immigrants everywhere. Mind you, maybe the dinosaurs could eat a few of 'em! Ha ha. Love it.
People actually thought this was worthy of being put on sale. Combat? More like it was made by wombats, mate! Ha ha. Love it. Spot on. It totally does.
I mean, I know I never earned a lot working at McDonald's, and due to my zero hours contract there were some weeks where they didn't even want me to come in, and they eventually fired me just because I threw a handful of coins at a customer's face 'cause he was giving me the lip, but that extracts the Michaelangelo, mate!
I mean... what? Are you for real, mate? It's all grey and that, with some numbers on it. Who wants to play a jamboree of puppy bums like that? I'll tell you who: everyone back in the day. And not a single one of them knew what they were even doing. Bunch of in-the-past saps! Ha ha. Love it. I really do.
And that thing was some spindly-armed bunghole trying to juggle a load of balls. And talking of a load of balls: that's what this game was. Boom! Sorted, mate. Love it. You didn't see that coming.
And what sort of a name is "Cosmo-Flight"? It sounds like Cosmopolitan have chartered a plane to take them to a photo shoot in another country, ha ha! Love it. Don't even know what I mean, but I love it.
I don't mean to be funny, yeah, but the only way I'd ever want to play this game is if she was standing in the middle of the road, and I got to run her over! And for the record, love, before you call the police like last time - that was satire. Humourless cow. Too stupid to even get satire.
"I don't want to"
"Just pick one."
"Blue.
"B... L... U... E... Pick a number."
"Do I have to?"
"Just do it!"
"Four."
"One... two... three... four... Pick another number."
"Ok. Three."
"Three... 'You want to marry a poo'."
"Bitch."
That actually happened. Although she was right: I did marry a poo! Ha ha. Love it. One-nil to me.