Unless you really, really, really dig looking homeless, fabulous and utterly pretentious at the same time. It'll be the 80s fashion of this generation — one our kids will totally make fun of us for having ever made popular.

I just noticed he had an anchor tattooed on his neck, realized I have at least five friends with something similar to that and almost soiled myself.

That's pretty much every show I've been to in the past five years — even metal shows. I walk in these damn dives, and I'm expecting some serious old school, Pantera-esque long black hair, un-showered-ness, stupidly exaggerated T-shirts — the works.

Instead? I get Toad. Hundreds of Toads.

That Bowser is pretty good — but that Toad?

It's not a problem with gaming — it's a problem with games and the underlying mindset behind them.

Those sons of bitches could scale walls to catch someone who stole a loaf of bread. Scale walls. Then they'd proceed to take every other awesome thing you had, unless you chose to murder them, and they totally knew you'd kill them, that gleam in the eye.

Damn. Someone don't understand JC like JC understand JC — ya dig? No good scalawags talkin' shit about that lord and savior. Uncool, man. Uncool.

It's got a bit of a ghetto, Steampunk vibe to it, like if Captain America was born in a dumpster or something.

That looks incredible. I hope it picks up speed again.

I know the food joke concerning Bioshock Infinite has been made 14.5 billion times, but your comment was so fucking unexpected, I spewed coffee on myself through uncontrolled giggling.

Nope.

Here's to hoping you're right.

I'll accept that. To his credit, however, if Fox News gets to shit their opinion all over television, then Stephen Totilo is more than welcome to place his educated opinion upon Kotaku.

It does say "OPINION" clearly above his name. I write an editorial every week — that doesn't mean I sit there and believe that "EVERYONE BELIEVES, DOES AND IS WHAT I WRITE BECAUSE I WRITE IT."

Well, this review makes me feel great about Deep Silver taking over on Metro: Last Light.

I'm voting you president of the almighty most-random-greatest-bestest-sportman-gigante-post-ever club. Exclusive rights include two times more available credits for not giving a shit and double the amount of who gives a fuck.

Fucking Hot Rod, man. I love that shit.

If I may ...

My God. Get the fire extinguisher — somebody just got their ass lit on fire.