I hope you’re ready for some more bitching and moaning. Ugh, when’s winter coming?

It’s hot and unpleasant in this house. In the least it’s unpleasantly hot enough that I’m content to sit and whine about it. “Why not open a window?” I bet you’d say if you were here (which would likely be creepy, random internet stranger). Thing is, it’s just as hot outside, so no dice. You know what? This is a house with air conditioning, we should be fine. “What are you complaining about?” You’d remark again (which would still be a little alarming, but I’d be more used to your presence by now), to which I’d reply that the house temperature is outside of my direct control. Our downstairs neighbour holds the power in her hands. It used to be so simple, our previous downstairs neighbour was a homebody. He was quiet, pleasant and always home. I’d flick him a text asking to chance the thermostat and within a minute or two I’d feel the air shift. Seeing how little I knew of his personality, his lack of outdoor exploration was a defining characteristic. I mean, there was that peculiar breathing I’d hear from around 4pm each day. I wondered if he had some kind of ghoul tethered downstairs, or perhaps just one of those sleep apnea respirator thingies. If you were here you’d know what I was talking about. Well, if you were here back when he used to live downstairs. Unfortunately our new neighbour is an outgoing sort. I mean, that’s great and all in that my girlfriend says she’s pretty nice, but if we don’t interact then that’s no good to me. Where’s my thermostat slave? I WANT AN OOMPA LOOMPA NOW, DADDY.

So instead I’m melting like The Wicked Witch of the West and my brain is following suit. I’ve stripped down as much clothing as possible without going full on Robbie Williams. I’m trawling Deezer for some appropriate music to enliven my spirit, but so far Surf Songs, Samba/Pagode, Sunny Wake Up and Happy Hour have done little to quell my colossal whininess. Maybe Brazillian Music holds the key. Something upbeat with lyrics I can ignore. The answer, of course, is that I should probably be in the shade sipping a chilled alcoholic beverage adorned with a little umbrella. I intend to do just that in a friend’s backyard inflatable pool, but I kind of need to finish this first.

My girlfriend and I tucked into the Game of Thrones Telltalle game. That sentence was confusing. It’s a cinematic adventure game made by Telltale Games which functions as an interactive Choose Your Own Adventure style experience. As she’s someone without much gaming experience, it was neat seeing her come to grips with the mechanics. Things I’d take for granted weren’t as instinctive and that was a joy to watch, especially how she honed in on it as we played more. Her reactions grew faster and it seemed more immersive. I was more than happy to sit in the passenger’s seat watching her make difficult choices and seeing how that played out. Video games were a bit part of my life for quite some time and being able to share that is a massive joy. Telltale handled the GoT IP really well (unlike my gratuitous use of acronyms), creating a family/house that closely mirrored the Starks, enabling brushes with familiar characters while still crafting a separate story. I’m kind of pumped to jump back into the Game of Thrones mythos and catch up from my location in early season four. I can’t just wait for the books, GRRM is gonna pull a Robert Jordan and I might as well try to catch up to the Westerosi focused water cooler talk best I can. Maaan, why can’t I be in Westeros now? I’d take a trip to the Iron Islands and the Drowned God would solve all my of my issues with overheating. I’m definitely not a child of summer.

Kidding. Westeros is possibly one of the worst fictional universes to jump into. I might as well enter Dante’s Inferno.


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