Browse Tag by jax hamleg
Humours

The Boxer

We here at the SLN Videogame Depot welcome back correspondent Jax Hamleg, who has returned from extended medical leave as a broken yet very opinionated man. Take it away, Jax.

Look me in the eye and tell me something, motherfucker. How many loot boxes have you purchased? With real money. Real dollars that could’ve put food on your family’s fucking table. You make me fucking sick.

Ironically, it was in being sick that my spiral into gaming and despair began. Sick with a case of legs torn off by hurricane force winds and a penchant for buckling my belt four or five notches tighter than was necessary. Sick with a case of hubris. Without my legs or my work but with a steady paycheck and benefits package, I wasted away into a horrid little gremlin, spending hours playing terrible videogames on my overpriced Razer laptop (replete with rainbow light-up keys) and my durable but off-brand android smartphone.

I have seen things that would make a normal person laugh awkwardly and find an excuse to leave. Things that would send a chill down your spine if I also explained the very esoteric and technical context surrounding them. I will never again be able to look in the mirror and see a man. I only see something so disgusting it shakes my belief in a loving God. I see a gamer.

Before my Kafka-esque transformation I used to travel to interesting places with a talented and brave cameraman, and I too was brave, because I delivered the news live, as it happened. What do I deliver now? Advice. Advice that comes from a place of deep suffering, in the hope that I can save you from the hell I have made for myself. Advice on which videogame loot boxes offer the best value.

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Humours

We Are Bringing This To You Live

As you may be aware, there is presently a category 4 hurricane hammering the bejeezus out of the Florida coast.  Self-Loathing Nerds’ hurricane correspondent Jax Hamleg is on location.

Thanks, Paul.*  I am standing here outside the locked doors of a shelter that I was pleaded with not to leave, and the situation is grim.  I am having to hold my own camera in one hand because my cameraman Paul “Knobsteak” Flaxman was impaled by a hurtling uprooted palm tree immediately upon following me outside.  I am losing my one-handed grip on the parking meter that is my only anchor to the ground in these incredibly forceful winds.  A Vespa scooter just flew by me.  I have lost my grip.

Right now I am being swept through the air, narrowly missing buildings, parked cars, and trees.  It’s looking real bad out here, Paul.  I just passed a CostCo and grazed my elbow on a lamp post.  This really is powerful wind.  It is raining, too, I’m not sure if I mentioned that?  I mean you’d assume it was, since that’s generally how hurricanes go.  I’m rambling.

Paul, I’ve just crashed through the boarded up window of a house, where it so happens a family of four who refused to evacuate is shrieking and wailing.  Let’s see what they have to say.

“Oh my god, are you hurt?  Jesus Christ it’s a miracle you’re alive.  Dan, try to cover the window back up.  Kids, get back.  It’s going to be alright.”  —Rashida, 47

Powerful words, Paul.  This family, like many others in the area, decided to try to weather the storm in their own homes, because they enjoy gambling with life.  Splinters the size of chopsticks have penetrated deep into my flesh.  The call for evacuation came many hours ago, and instead of huddling in mortal fear they could merely be experiencing severe anxiety for the state of their home and belongings.  Truly a terrible choice to be forced to make.

I am being yelled at by Daniel, 41, who did not appreciate my characterization of his and his wife’s judgment, nor my continual monologuing into this microphone and camera as if they are not here.  He has grabbed my collar and is shaking me violently.  Each jolt from his hairy, veiny mitts jostles the pieces of jagged wood inside me.  He will pry this camera from my cold dead hands.

Paul, the family and I have now moved to the cellar, where they really should have been before.  The howling wind is loud and worrisome.  There is enough canned food and bottled water here to last the family a week or two.  That is an unexpected level of foresight, to be perfectly honest with you.

My skin is becoming pale and clammy and I have lost a large amount of blood.  I am ascending the stairs and going outside.  I will not die cowering underground.  I will face the storm head-on, in defiance of God and man, and I will see you in hell.  Back to you, Paul.

Thanks, Jax.  Coming up next: These fun Fall crafts will make you forget the crushing weight of despair for a few brief, fleeting moments, and can be made with items you already have lying around the house!

*I have asked Jax to refer to me as “Paul” rather than Blorg or my real name because I am his boss and he, like my other minions, is subject to my whims, and right now I’m really feeling that name.  “Paul.”  It’s a nice name.

Also Paul Rudd is very attractive.

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