If you wish to send us money you must do that here.
If you wish to send us an email you must do that here: firstname.lastname@example.org
Here are the letters, dear.
I was arguing with my brother the other day about the differences between owls and ducks. Whilst he agreed to 'split the differences' (whatever that means in that context) we then went on to talk about wasps, bees and, of all things, rabbits. My brother: "Wasps are the same as bees except they make jam, not honey... but all three of them are born in pods".
I just let him carry on talking - I didn't want to argue any more because he was giving me a lift to hospital and is prone to kick me out of his car when he thinks he's losing an argument.
And that it'll feature an exclusive screening of Digitiser: The Documentary, stand-up comedy from The Man's Daddy, the ultimate Digitiser panel, featuring myself, Mr Hairs, Mr Udders and Violet Berlin - plus the comedy stylings of Chris Coltrane? And interactive workshops? And there'll be exclusive merchandise AND Mr T's actual bins?
And you want us to tell people not to worry about it being in Cambridge, because there's a train station nearby, and a cheap Travelodge near the venue? And you want us to tell everyone that they can read further details here? Nah.
We heard Mr T's perspective on the implications of Brexit last week, but what of Le Chef (s'il vous plait)? We must be told!
I’ve been thinking a lot about your recent string of insults aimed at veteran game developers and decided to relate to you an incident that happened to me with no relevance to that whatsoever...
… In the form of a non-interactive text adventure.
SAUSAGE BUS: The Man Who Couldn’t Wait
Copyright (c) 2016 by Howdle, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
SAUSAGE is a registered trademark of Howdle, Inc.
IBM Interpreter version 6.71
Release 393 / Pix 14 / Serial number 890714
THREE DAYS AGO
You’re perched upon bench inside the bus stop. Rain is collecting in little streams that flow along the edge of the curb before puking loudly into the gutter. A bus sloshes up alongside you. Its doors open.
>get on bus
You step onto the bus.
A man yawns at you with his hand out.
You open your wallet.
There is five pounds inside.
>give money to driver
You hand over the five pounds.
The driver clickety-spools you a ticket. The bus is rather full. You decide to sit down on one of the side-saddle-y seats where you find yourself face-to-face with the row opposite. They are filled with miscellaneous bus users. The person facing you directly is a man in his 40s. He’s wearing a brown anorak and has the kind of hair that mum did.
You look away.
You watch Polish shops with interesting names like ‘Vajny Sklep’ whizz past through the bit of the window not occupied by anyone’s face. Out of the corner of your eye you notice mum-hair man has reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of raw sausages – the homogeneously pink sort that are 12 for a quid at Iceland. He’s fiddling with the packet, scrunching it every which way. Yes by golly and by jove, he's trying to get it open!
You can’t look away.
He’s got the packet open now and he’s unfolding a string of these sausages, placing the packet back in his anorak pocket, and the other end inserting it into his maw. A string of sausages run now from his mouth to his pocket. And he’s eating them. Raw. Pulling each mouthful in with his lips – he’s not even using his hands!
You can’t look away.
He’s masticating loudly now, mouth open, pink sludge oozing from the corners of his mouth. The string drops from his mouth. He miscalculated. He’s going for it again. He’s going to reconnect it. He’s going to carry on...
You can’t look away.
You can’t look away
Which games console would you say had the best overall library of software and what criteria do you judge it by?
Let's have some more letters from you, plz, John. You're my favourite.
While it was not an absolute classic game (although I thought it was close) Sleeping Dogs demonstrated how an authentic and different setting can really enhance otherwise above-average gameplay. The same could be said of Mirror's Edge and Remember Me.
The games industry is US-dominated, of course, but I hope that globalization leads to more varied settings and characterisation in games. I really miss some of the genuinely British games that we once had.
Can anyone think of any good examples of series that changed genres and maintained or exceeded their initial critical praise?
For the last few months, I've had what I assume to be a focks coming into my front garden and leaving the gift of poop on my lawn at night. Do you have any advice on how to solve this problem?
QUESTION: What do chickens use to draw with?
ANSWER: Hencils (pencils).
QUESTION: Who gives chickens presents on the 25th of December?
ANSWER: Feather Christmas (Father Christmas).
QUESTION: Who let the chickens out? Out! Out! Out! Out!
ANSWER: Fabric John.