[Ricky Namara absolutely nails that feeling of paranoia I get every time I go into a game store and look at box art while looking over my shoulder to make sure nobody thinks knows I'm a pervert staring at particular titles. My mother still probably thinks I'm a pervert from watching me beat Metal Gear Solid 3 while being chased by a robot with a bikini-clad chick on the back of the bike driven by my one-eyed Snake. Even typing that out felt dirty. My main man Ricky got featured on Destructoid by writing a kickass blog. Write one for yourself, and see as your perversion is splayed out for the [m]asses! - Wes]
My love affair with JRPGs began with Chrono Trigger on a cold winter afternoon in 1995. I was a young, bright-eyed kid on an exchange student program experiencing the U.S. of A. for the very first time in my life, and my host family owned an SNES that their kids barely ever used. One of their kid's friends brought over "this game with a kewl box art" that he impulse-bought, but both were quick to lose all interest over it, for what they told me later was the massive amount of, "talky-talky bits."
I asked them if I could play the game if they weren't going to play it. They said they didn't care before rushing outside to play like normal kids. I picked up the controller, restarted the game, and pressed the button for "New Game" before succumbing to its warm, gentle, lover-like embrace.
via destructoid http://ift.tt/2xdCs3q