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www.google.com/accounts/o8/id?id=AItOawnQ1QsG-NrI95PVNItBLZ73cPRabrHzN8Y
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Ground Kontrol guy, I think I love you. If I didn't live 1100 miles away, I'd be there all the time.
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I like what Google does with the sign-in there. Smooth. Anyway Wil, this: "It never occurred to us to tell our parents that we were going to play video games, and as far as I can remember, they never asked. It may seem unnecessarily complicated now, but it's just how we did things in those days of two - toned corduroy OP shorts and Velcro wallets." Holy repressed memories Batman. Oh my god, it was EXACTLY like that. I never told my mom I was going to play video games, and I never knew why. Back then, I think our parents thought video games were the tool of the devil, and arcades some heretofore unknown circle of hell. The few times I did think of just telling my mom that I was going to play video games, I stopped when I realized that she was going to immediately disapprove. Maybe video games just weren't wholesome and fresh-airy enough. It's not like I spent most of my summer days outside on a skateboard anyway, right? Oh no wait, it was exactly like that. But not even the temptation of finally nailing that ollie off the curb in front of Rexall was enough to sway me from the dank, cigarette-smelling pit we called an arcade in my town. Within that pit lay undiscovered countries (I'm sure you saw what I did there), galaxies of beautiful and mysterious creatures that we tried our best to blow the hell out of. And of course thinking about it all now brings back the guilt and embarrassment of doing almost anything to get my hands on some quarters, the keys to giving my brain the nourishment it craved. Man, those were good times. Thanks for bringing them back, Big Wheaton style.
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