Well, it's certainly been a wierd weekend thus far. And certainly only religious in the way that it's been quite Hellish. On Good Friday I was meant to be spending the weekend in the quaint, Historic southern-ish city of Gloucester, until it all went Pete Tongue at about 2.30 and I found myself in the city centre with a closed train station and no way of getting home. After a few hours of wondering around, I found some benches down an alleyway and made my bed for the night. Yes, at 4.30, the Supreme Overlord of the 'Yard - usually used to such opulent surroundings - was forced to sleep on a park bench, Louis Winthorpe III style. Although thankfully, I wasn't forced to steal a salmon and eat it through a fake beard.
I was rudely awakened at 5.30am by a Hitchcockian flock of seagulls who had taken a strange liking to me, and then I shuffled back to the (now open) train station. I bought my ticket and finally got back to the Jewel of the North (Manchester) at about 10.00 following a quick change at Birmingham. But why am I telling you all this? Well, it's to highlight the way that one's mood can go from revulsion at the entire human race, to sheer elation when you get home and find that your review of Red Dog: Superior Firepower has been published on Defunct Games!
If you've never played this superb and rather hard to find shooter, here's a few shots illustrating what you're depriving yourself of: