Saturdays are for realising that there are ASMR playlists for Frictional's Amnesia games. _ASMR playlists_ , for games that make use of subliminal crackling noises to suggest mounting delirium, and Shepard tones to create the impression that a life-saving generator is always _just_ about to run out of fuel.
What on earth is wrong with you people? And why can't I stop listening to the Rebirth…
The weather has been an unpredictable mess of downpour and blazing sun this week, but Saturday feels like it could be the turn. Another chance for the sun to yank on the starter cord of summer and get that season's engine thrumming.
I simply refuse to have to turn back from another walk around the park because 10 metres from my front door the lovely sunshine is replaced by pelting rain.
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Saturdays are for lying in bed and resting your sore typing fingers, muttering curses at Geoff Keighley under your breath. They're not particularly mean curses, I quite enjoy covering events like SGF. It's nice having a few hours where game announcements pour forth like bubbling water. Yes, those bubbles can be the ineffable gassing up of marketing hype, but I won't dismiss everything we see as…
This weekend, I’m going to a not particularly good football stadium to watch assorted famous people play not particularly good football. No, not the average [team you don’t like] match, but Soccer Aid. Why isn’t there a _Games_ Aid, huh? Oh, there is. And they do great work, from the looks of it. Maybe one day we’ll use our own games-playing powers for good, but for now, it's just the…
Ah, it's a Saturday and the start of a heat wave. What to do? What to do? Pull out the plastic storage box and fill it with cold water and ice cubes for a nice chilling foot bath. Get some damp flannels in the freezer to become an ice pack ready to be deployed at a moment's notice. And get a nice hot cup of tea on, because tea doesn't stop for a poxy heat wave.
(Though maybe I'll get a nice…
What are we all playing this weekend?
There is currently a white cloud swimming across my right eye. It's not, as I thought first, a smudge on my glasses. It's my old friend, a retinal migraine. I'm hoping by the time this article goes live it will have dispersed entirely and I can get back to a walk in the park. If now, this weekend will be spent in a dark room staying exceedingly…
I really thought I'd be done with the decorating this week, but it continues. I have at least got all of the cabinets back on the walls, the larder unit painted and assembled, and regained ready access to the fridge. No more cheese sandwiches for a while, I pray. I'm in the last stretch. I need to touch up all the paintwork where I've left fingerprints and scratches, screw on all the door knobs,…
Due to work and a press trip, I am still only half way through redecorating the kitchen. The walls are now a lovely shade of terracotta, but dust sheets cover the floor, there are no doors on the cabinets, and paint pots and stained brushes litter the room. I just want to cook a meal on the hob. A single delicious hot meal.
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This weekend, the decorating begins. Yes, I have bitten off more than I can chew, but what is life if not enthusiastically inviting choking hazards? I'll be removing cabinets, sanding and priming carpentry, cleansing walls with sugar soap, and, if I've done everything, covering the kitchen in B&Q's Chorizo matte emulsion paint.
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I don’t know about you, readers, but this past week’s gone by in a bit of a blur. Did I volunteer to take WAWAPs for today, or was I forced at Ziff Davis canteen sporkpoint? I can’t even remember, but perhaps relaxing with some PC games – and/or reading about what you’re all playing – will help lift the brainfog.
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After months of pleading for the sun to show its face, I'm actually feeling quite warm now. Potentially, I'd go so far as to say I'm too toasty. I'm not saying I'm looking forward to winter. But I'm not _not_ saying it.
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Surprise, Friday WAP attack! No, I've (hopefully) not mucked up the time the WAPs are posted, as I did last time this particular RPSponsibility was trusted to me. It's a long weekend here in the UK thanks to the bank holidays around Easter. More time for playing games, in theory. Assuming you don't get trapped in a giant chocolate egg or something equally terrifying.
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There is a significant danger that this article will have aged _terribly_. You see, I asked everyone what they were playing this weekend on Thursday, rather than the usual post-lunch scramble on a Friday. You see, I took Friday off to travel to Wales to spend a long weekend with my family. Who knows what happened between my polling of the team on Thursday and Friday? Perhaps Valve surprise…
I truly hope the sun has got his hat on this weekend as I'm cycling out to family in the countryside and I'd rather not arrive soaked through by rain. Granted, I will be arriving soaked through with sweat, but I am happy with this outcome. For reasons I can't quite fathom, self-wetted clothes are bearable, weather-wetted clothes are intolerable.
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Saturday. We meet again. I see you've brought your old friends Blustery Wind and Chill In The Air with you. I expected better of you, you know those two just bring you down. You've so much potential. What don't you hang out with T-Shirt Weather and Gosh, That's Bright anymore? They've got their personified heads screwed on right.
No? We're stuck with this chilly winter for one more weekend?…
Oi, you! Yes, you, the sun. There's no hiding. I saw you creeping up over the hill at 6am and staying there for nearly a whole 12 hours yesterday. Stop looking sheepish, you're not in trouble. Why, in fact, I think I might spend this weekend outside and enjoy your almost springly warmth.
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Edwin got beat up the other day, so I suppose it’s up to me to ask what everyone’s playing this weekend. No extended joke here. He’s just absolutely battered. In pieces, really. God, that must have been humiliating for him.
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Saturday mornings are hopefully for not feeling hungover or beaten-up or assassinated. You see, it's Friday as I write these words, and I've just been invited out for drinks in the park with one Graham Smith, former RPS EIC and nowadays, co-founder of disgraceful champagne socialist operation Jank.cool, an indie joint the rabble-rousers among you are already calling "RPS when it was good". What's…
I thought I would make it all the way through winter without getting ill. We're practically touching March. Yet, despite being within spitting distance of the clocks changing and bright evenings returning, I have the lurgy. This weekend, I will practice the art of the double duvet sausage roll.
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I'm likely going to be spending much of this morning preparing conversation topics for the two-year-old's birthday party I'm going to this afternoon. It's not the toddlers that are the issue - all the old standards go down a treat with them – "Do you like the taste of boogers?", "What's that behind your ear?", "What's your position on jelly?" (To which the answer is always "On a plate!"). No,…