When I'm not leaping like a circus bear here on 61 FPS for everyone's amusement, I can often be found digging up dirt on the lives of celebrities. For a pittance, I write snark about ladies and gentlemen who could bottle their farts and sell it for twice the money I’ll likely earn in my lifetime--and I’m even counting my upcoming stint as a rocket pack monkey trainer.
It’s the media’s responsibility--nay, pleasure--to remind the world that celebrities make mistakes, just like the rest of us. They must wipe their bottoms, just like the rest of us. And they like video games just like your mom and dad…if your dad hasn’t touched a game since Pac-Man and your mom still thinks Moon Patrol is the height of hardcore action.
Hooray for irrelevant glamour at the Spike Video Game Awards.
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