When I was in second grade, I started having these really bizarre (to me at the age) dreams about a fellow classmate named Meg. In those dreams, she would exist as some sort of wonderful beneficial thing, and her rare touch was addictive, the ambrosia of life. I remember waking up after each of these…
A blog entry draws near! I’ve been working on this idea for a while now, and have decided to take some time to write up some nostalgia-injected mini-essays on the games that changed my life. I’ve got a list worked out now, which I will go through in chronological order of my exposure to and…
The new treaty re-affranchised Piotr from the years of imprisonment following his plane being downed behind enemy lines. Having not seen beyond his filth-ridden cells in a decade, the effulgence of the sunlit world outside brought him to his knees, tears streaming his face… but he cried not for the sun. Upon his death, years…
Priming his steed to charge once more into the fray, the grizzled champion grunts, and lowers his lance back into position. The signal flashes, the onslaught begins anew. Like wild beasts fleeing a fire, his foes lurch forth as a disjointed mass. He easily pushes through, whacking their ankles and knees with a precision honed…
Tanks to Craig Brown of Historic Tattoo here in Portland, I acquired two new tattoos this past Saturday afternoon. Bonus Points to all who recognize the quotes: