Middle-aged monkeys moving to Mark Morrison’s music

Donkey Kong Country Returns (2010)

God, they warned me this would happen. I’m 32 this year and, while mercifully I haven’t degraded to a broken down ould fossil like some, and I’ve even managed to hold on to most of my hair, I can admit it – time is speeding up for me at a bloody alarming rate. It won’t be long now until I’ve got tubes up my nice, hairs in my ears and God knows what up my bum, and I’m racing towards the light, thinking “where did my life go…?”

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Within this tired hedgehog beats the heart of a low-res werewolf

Sonic Unleashed (2008)

Alright, are you a day bird or a night owl? I’ve always been a creature of the night for various reasons, most of them either vain or alcoholic in nature. Let’s talk about my day disadvantages – first of all, I work during the day, and when you get to the dead of winter, then daylight hours are consumed by work entirely. I have before threatened to go full Travis Bickle and go cabbing at night-time, but I’d probably just get wound up too much by 200 decibel hen parties and end up on a murderous rampage. You sort of want to avoid that kind of thing, if you care about your social status.

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“You can turn your back on a person, but never turn your back on Wario”

Wario Land 4 (2001)

I’m sure we trust each other enough now to talk about drug use. I’m not on about drug abuse now, or drug problems. After all, I don’t have a problem with drugs – I love them. No, but isn’t it a bit rich to look down on illegal drugs when the majority of the rest of us barely go a week, or a day even, with those more “honest” drugs of caffeine and alcohol?

But then, what of the legalisation of certain drugs? It always scores you credibility points to mention in public about how you really think weed should be legalised at this stage. But then, there are some cities you take a stroll down nowadays and you can’t move for the sickly smell of the stuff, thanks to legalisation. Do you really want that?

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Samus as a Suicide Girl, it’s all I ever wanted

Metroid Prime 2: Echoes (2004)

I shouldn’t ask this for fear of summoning them to my doorstep, like Beetlejuice, but where have all the good goths gone? I’m not talking about your posing e-girls, these days now good for a depraved bit of onanism but not much more. It used to be that you could go to some central location in a city, in Dublin’s case the old Central Bank, and find a gaggle of them hanging about, smoking, not going to school and talking about nonconformity. Bloody great, I say.

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A life in sport – Blitzball, Badminton and Flopping all over the world

Final Fantasy X (2002)

I looked so great during the last Olympics, sat tearing a fart divot through the armchair, wrapping my gob around a chipper and mocking the trampolinists on their poor form, even if I was half-waiting for the judges’ scores before I passed my own judgment, in case I looked silly. I so love being an armchair expert, because let’s face it, what’s the alternative? To be one of them? An Olympiad? Actually, that sounds great, I could add that to my many online bios and lord it over as many people as I could. They don’t have to know that I swam around in circles and fell off the gym horse.

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Look in the mirror, fat little marshmallow, and tell me what you see?

Kirby & the Amazing Mirror (2004)

I reckon I picked the wrong time in history to be unphotogenic, you know. Of course I’m arrogant enough to believe I’m a tera-hunk, but it only takes a rogue camera to catch you at your worst and it’s all over, the entire illusion is shattered – it’s ten chins, my hair’s a silvery mess and the gut is hanging right out.

Worse still if you’re photographed alongside somebody who knew where to look and nailed their pose. I’m surrounded by models, experts at getting papped. It got so that I’d dread those social media notifications, where people would snap a single night out using what’d be the olden days equivalent of ten rolls of film. With that many candid photos of you floating around, there was bound to be a few stinkers in there, for the object of your desires to find and cringe at, and for you to gloomily reflect on. After all, you can’t filter every photo to within an inch of its life, can you?

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There may a time and a place for Wario to recite poetry, but I don’t ever wanna hear it

Wario Land 3 (2000)

I never thought it would come to this, but I’m about to have a disagreement, a spat, a set-to, with my main man Wario. I’d always regarded Wario as the ideal role model, especially for young children. Sure, you could try to be like Mario all upstanding and “wholesome”, whatever that even means. But how far will that get you? At some point in your life you’ll recognise that playing by the rules will get you nowhere fast.

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An Irish Air Show… it was never gonna be an assault on the senses

Star Fox Assault (2005)

I’m not a World War II historian – you should generally avoid such people like the plague – but I do at least know that Spitfire pilots tended not to disappoint when it came to fulfilling their duties, and the boys in the Hawker Hurricanes didn’t put up a poor show in front of the Bosh either. But I’m afraid to say that they, along with the much vaunted British Red Arrows, have let us all down.

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Who’s that green dragon, propping up the bar, gone all topsy-turvy?

Yoshi Topsy-Turvy (2005)

Another advance warning for you this time, I’m about to hit you with some student-level banter, but goodness gracious me, a drinking career is getting tougher and tougher to maintain these days. Of course, I was completely done out of 18 months of social lubrication due to Covid-19, although let’s face it, I was already well over the hill by that stage. And it’s not like I wasn’t practicing the home gargles throughout that period. I’ve always been a strong advocate of that time-honoured money-saving drinking technique.

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Horrifying times lie ahead for the vampire hunter who lets himself go

Castlevania 64 (1999)

So is it true what they say, about comparison being the thief of joy? Maybe, but how else are you gonna get ahead in life? I always had myself down as a not particularly competitive guy, happy enough to be laidback. And yet my quickness to jealousy and my complete inability to be happy for other people’s fortunes can only lead me to conclude that I must always be the best at everything, better than everyone else, and nothing else will do. Ain’t I a stinker?

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