Get off my lawn
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Look, I hate these posts as much as the next guy, alright? Kids. Yuck. Some people devote their lives to raising these little piles of germs with suspect motor skills. Even my dumb parents were foolish enough to fall into that trap. Suckers.
But, it seems like the perfect opportunity to boast about my Golden God status in Super Meat Boy (one of the first pieces I ever wrote for Destructoid, by the way). So, yeah. I’m kind of superior to all of these kids in every conceivable way.
Also, Darren thinks one of those children looks like a gross teen version of me. Please remove Darren from your Christmas card mailing list, and throw glass bottles when you see him in public. Mucho apreciado.
