I often imagine myself as a video game character. Sometimes I am Promiscuous, the enchanted and noble sex knight of the horny round table, and sometimes I am B Dawg G, the hip and cool gansta’ who busts caps and throws up gang signs while jackin’ rides from the peeps on the street, youknowwhatI’msayin’G? But no matter who I am or what my purpose is or how many points I need to save the princess from the perverted sex addict Lizard King of Candyland, there is always one constant and unavoidable truth in my delusions of digital grandeur. The truth is that I am only playable on the Sega Genesis, and as we all know, the Sega Genesis is the red headed step child of video game systems. And that hurts me inside, to know that no matter how many princesses I rescue or how many NeW8i3$ I 0wnz0r w1TH MY le3+ KilLIng SK1lL5, I will never be relevant to the upper crust of the gamer community. The princess will always run off to Master Chief and his 360 degrees of love, and that Mario and Luigi will always be cooler than me. I am not even cool enough to kick it with Mario. That hurts me, hurts me deep.
This is the point where we stand up