Able was I ere I saw Elba

I don't play many computer games, I generally get bored of them pretty quickly. One of the few exceptions to this was Grand Theft Auto: Vice City, I had it for the Playstaion 2 I had when I lived in Dublin. I would spend entire weekends with the curtains drawn playing for hour upon hour. Car jacking, mugging, ram raiding, robbing, executioning, mass murder in a tank, these were my weekends back then. I realised I was playing too much when I wouldn't see another human being for the entire weekend except for the corner shop owner. Also the walk to said corner shop was troubled with thoughts such as 'I wonder what would really happen if I just dragged that guy out of his car, beat him to death in the gutter and steal the vehicle?' I thought I had to stop playing or at least cut down.

'What you in for?'
'Too much GTA...'

Today I think my life may have changed. I was out shopping at Parkgate Retail World in Rotherham. This is a massive faceless mall style shopping 'outlet' that now doubles for Rotherham's town centre. Vast faceless warehouses crammed with pacifiers for Oniomaniacs, this place is the pits. All the frontages are grey except for the store name above the door. A feeling of automaton oppressiveness pervades the place as you are funnelled into you respective shopping experience. My experience today consisted of WH Smiths to see if there were any new magazines I was interested in and Homebase to pick up a carrier for a Great War British Army. Between these two places I was drawn into Game. I have no idea why, I usually have no interest in standing in a computer games shop whilst an assistant drones on at me about how much Ram a particular game needs, or what fucking video card I will have to buy just to be able to play Jet Set Willy. I don;t need to know about paying half my yearly income to purchase a store card that allows me 0.00000783% discount but only if I buy the game from their sister store in Namibia. No sir, I don't need that.

'Have you got the latest Intwat 234/89.r6 Processor? No? Then fuck off, you're barred!'

Anyway, for some compelling reason I found myself in Game standing in front of the single shelf they devote to PC games. Yes I know there are even less games for the Mac, but if there's a Mac owner reading this, don't come complaining and saying PC owners should feel lucky. You should stop being a cunt and join in the human race like the rest of us. Stick you Ipod where the fucking sun don't shine. And by that I mean: up your arse. I digress. Amongst the pitiful games section something caught my eye... Could it be, yes, it was Napoleon Total War. Wow, I knew the Total War series was very good, it all started with Shogun Total War back last century before we had flying cars and hoverboards and nuclear winters (don't write in saying that STW came out in 2000 and was therefore this century, the 21st Century didn't start until 2001, go ask a mathematician, sunshine. And stick your head where the sun don't shine. And by that I mean: up your arse, sunshine). The series went on to take in Roman campaigns and Seventeenth and Eighteenth Century warfare. But seriously, who wants to play that shit? Romans? I shit 'em! Boring square building bunch of wankers they were. The only reason the Roman Empire was so good was cos it was the Ancient equivalent of the British Army in the late 19th Century fighting dusky maidens armed only with jewelry and fruit.

'I say Broomhead, shoot that little one, looks like she's armed to the teeth with a pomegranate!'

I digress. People want to play games about Napoleon, the Little Corporal, the world's most famous Corsican. Well at least I do and this blog's about me, so suck it up, shit head. So I couldn't resist it, I handed over my money, withstood the barrage from the geek behind the desk asking me if I wanted a store card (no, I don't buy enough games), if the specs were all right for my computer (dunno, haven't the foggiest and I haven't checked. I'll bring it back if they aren't) and if I wanted to buy a gaming mouse (I didn't know they bred gaming mice. Are they like little familiars that sit on your shoulder telling you how to play?). Then I was away with my prize clutched to my chest like a Beauty Pageant winner holding her trophy.

This prize is mine, shitbags!

How does it play? Amazing, brilliant, it's like being old Boney himself. If I play it enough I think I will probably end up ruling a tiny island in the middle of the Atlantic, with only a Governor-General to annoy. Lead poisoning from the wallpaper will be my ultimate downfall.

A nation mourns a great warrior...

I was going to write about meeting Danny, Jaime, Archer, Bennett, Wilson, Barnsey, Sally and Brooke at the weekend but I was so incensed with rage at the corruption that struck at the heart of the Pylon Cafe competition judged by Salter. He told me with his own filthy sewer mouth that he only deemed Archer and Bennett's entries as winners so he wouldn't have to spend anything on postage as he could hand the books over to them at the pub. Filthy scum, everyone of them. I hope they all choke on their books.

Speaking of which, this is the only thing worth reading on that lame excuse for a webzone. An interview with me. There isn't even a News update page...