Cultural Rot

Almost everything wrong with Girl D&D in a single tweet:


One – the DM should not tell stories. He is a situational developer that adjudicates the resultant chaos when he turns his players loose on the terrain he has sculpted.  The story comes from the variable that the PCs introduce to a stable, or even a meta-stable, situation.  If you are a DM who sees himself as a storyteller, do the world a favor but doesn’t want to log the long hours of ass-in-seat to actually write up the story you want to tell, do the world a favor and drink a nice vodka-bleach martini tonight rather than inflict your half-assed laziness on a group of suspecting players.

Two – the default assumption of “ha ha, I am a mess, look at all my neuroses” isn’t funny when (((they))) do it, and it isn’t funny when I do it, and it isn’t funny when you, dear tender and alert and unhygienic reader, do it either.  If you’re pouring that much of yourself into your characters then you are playing elf games WRONG.  You’re not just playing the games wrong, you are the president for life of Planet Wrongsylvania, and you are still too wrong for that beautiful world.  You should ascend to a higher plane of wrongness and leave all of us right-thinkers here to wallow in our rightness without your pitiful bleating.

Three – SEVENTEEN THOUSAND LIKES.  There are more than seventeen thousand of you pathetic slobs out there.  You degenerates have turned the greatest game ever written into the world’s biggest pity-party.  Why can’t you just be normal?  Why can’t you just be happy?  Why can’t you just go find another hobby to ruin?  I don’t care how many units of 5e have moved, if it is attracting this kind of new fan to the brand, then it’s a bigger failure than 4e – and I don’t say that lightly.  At least 4e drove dead weight out of the hobby.  Sucking in the grease-trap players of the world the way 5e does is a level drain attack to 4e’s mere HP dealing damage.

It’s pathetic.  Suck up, man up, clean your room and take your pills, and start listening to Secular Humanism’s Lobster Jesus.  Stop being the the captain of the destroyer Laffable.  Stop being the chief engineer of the submarine Clagammamore, or the best pilot on the aircraft carrier Dorktown and listen to Jordan Peter(heh)son or whatever his name is.  He is a master of elevating dregs to mediocrity and locking them into a lifetime in the gamma ‘hood, but that’s at least a step up from being the sort of person to laugh at that tweet.


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Alex Jones Was Right!


Literal demons

Anybody else kinda regret giving the satanic panic crowd such a hard time back in the Eighties? We mocked the stuffing out of those stodgy old bints.  Now that we’ve got real demons shitting up the place, maybe we sure could use a little of that Jack Chick tract action in our culture if you ask your old pal E. Reagan.  Sometimes it gets a guy to thinking about maybe somebody sicced those biddies on us to distract them from the real demonic threat.  They tossed all their holy water on us – and let’s face it, that’s as close as some of us came to a bath or shower in the eighties – and had none left for the real fight to come once the demons dropped the masks and the yarmulkes and the business suits and the GOP pins and the Donkey pins and the “it’s just women’s health care, it’s not slautering newborns and selling them for parts” and went full demonic on us.

First the demons came for us and nobody was there to help us.  Then they came for literally everything else, and we were too distracted with our games in Mom’s basement to help them.

Ah well, trick’s on them.  I’ve played enough 40k and Lawful Clerics in my day to know how to deal with demons and heretics alike.

The Boomer manifesto of “Burn, baby, burn,” is going to take on a whole new meaning in the years to come.

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Republican Up Your Next Module With This One Weird Trick

If you want to inject a little counter-cultural street cred into your next store-bought or independent module, have I got the trick for you.  Just replace all of the 1HD monsters with the following cretins:

It’s also worth noting that Surrender Monkeys will promise PCs anything they want, even things they can never possibly deliver in order to gain their approval.  They fear walls, being called names that end in -ist, and doing literally anything that would protect the infants from being murdered and sold for parts.

You probably want to use these in small doses.  They don’t present much of a challenge to defeat, and watching them in action is vomit inducing.  If the PCs are clever, they will use Surrender Monkeys to hold ground in portions of the dungeon that they have already taken.  The one thing Surrender Monkeys are good for is fighting to preserve their losses.

Not that I’m bitter.

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Mmm, Gun Oil


It’s just a fad.  This too shall pass.  The mops will soon tire of D&D.  Without them the sociopaths (pic one related) will move on to a new and more lucrative subculture.  The locusts will eat the crops and move on.  We can rebuilt it.  We’ve done it before.

Everything is going to be okay.

This is fine.


hold me

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Alt(STAR)Hero Six – The Dar Something


The latest issue of Alt(Star)Hero dropped last week, and everything was so hectic I didn’t get a chance to review it.  Well, now I’ve got a chance and here’s a stunner for you – I liked it!

Redshift in a neck brace and a battered Michael Martel held remind us that the former got the royal Matthew Shepherd treatment when he tried to stop the latter from leaving one part of the European Caliphate for another part of the European Caliphate without paying his proper jizz-ya tax.  Martel earned his stripes in the process of wiping the pavement with Captain Europa’s handsome mug.  They look like I feel these days.

Episode Six: the Cast Embiggening presents Team Sellout tracking Team Tommy Robinson through the catacombs of Paris, hence the name “The Dark Hunt”.  Or maybe the title is a reference to the red-eyed sewer dweller.  (It wouldn’t be an Alt(Star)Hero without six new named characters introduced in this issue, would it?)  The new guy with the red eye saves Michael and…uh, the other guy* from the Eurotrash.  Get it?  Brits see where I’m going with this, and Kangaroo-chokers, too.  Anyway, the Darkhunt guy puts the DyNationalist Duo on a train for Italy where they can be safe, which after my recent encounters with those noodle-slurpers seems like a molte benne bad idea.


You’re probably bored with me saying that this issue is my favorite one yet.  Too bad.  It is.  Here’s a fun thing to do.  Cliff Cosmickal is the guy who does the art for Alt(Star)Hero, and he’s getting better with each issue.  Don’t believe me?  Let’s run a quick side by side comparison:


Everything about the art in that second panel is better than everything in the art in the second panel, and that’s just after six issues of work.  I’m telling you nerds, by the time they hit Issue 20, Pope Frankie One will be calling Cliffy-boy to come re-do the Sistine Chapel with Alt(Star)Hero characters.  Rainbow F(l)ag up there looks so much better now that he makes me feel all funny inside, like when I try and fail to climb the rope in gym class.  And don’t get me started on Dynamique – that carrot topped caped crusader looks so cute lately that she’s got my waifu-pillow jealous of all the time I spend with Dynamique these days.  Maybe it’s the coloring, I don’t know, but it’s so much more pleasing to the eye.

Uh, that’s about it.  Go buy it at the Arkhaven store and not Amazon, so that Bezos gets a few less dollars with which to buy a billion dollar blowee from that Dirty Sanchez broad.

*I can’t remember his name.  Maybe Grug am not smart enough for to understanding comickal books.

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Well That Sucked

missLast night was a total bust.

Short report today.

My dungeon prep was useless.  Did you know that my “Mazes of Monsters” was just a few scribbled words on my shrink-wrapped copy of B/X?  Well, it isn’t shrink wrapped anymore.  Double dangit!

To make matters worse, it turns out the Violante Family means something completely different when they refer to gaming.  Those idiots weren’t expecting to play D&D at all!

They brought a fat stack of Pathfinder books with them.  Gross!

They were so mad that they threatened to break the rest of my fingers if I didn’t run Pathfinder for them.   So I’m typing this with a pencil held in my teeth.  A small price to pay to not have to play Pathfinder.

After they left, the recording guys got pissed off and crashed into my mobile home.  They were shouting about all of some guy named Meuller’s projects falling apart.  There were five of them in my living room yelling about how I was supposed to get the Violante’s on tape talking about gambling and loans and prostitution and tax evastion.  I was like, “Bro!  I told you, I run fantasy games, not Top Secret,” which they had never even heard of.  When I pointed out that those normie dorks have got a lot of nerve setting up a D&D podcast when they don’t know anything about D&D, the girl one admitted her boyfriend plays Warhammer 40k, and I was like, “Oh, I get it – you’re like the guys from Critical Role.”

She laughed and said she loves watching Critical Role.  Then she paused and asked, “Wait.  There’s like, a game based on that show?


Now I’ve got to call the widow Tunsado, go back to the If You Tell My Wife I’ll Cut You Motel out on Route 420, and try to earn enough to pay my lawyers.

And I still haven’t gotten to play any D&D.

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Best Night Ever, Incoming

Tonight is going to be…

The. Best. Game night. Ever.

And that’s not just the Zylkene talking, because I took my last dose this morning and it’s wearing off.


For some reason my notes for tonight’s adventure were shelved in the freezer, so I’m thawing them out in the dryer right now.  They should be dry just in time for the festivities.  I can’t remember the details – just an incredible glow of satisfaction as I designed it – but I’m not worried.  I run no-prep games all the time, and the information is in my head.  I can feel it.  When game time rolls around, I’ll be fine.

The Violante Family is coming by, and I don’t care how much gaming they’ve done in the past, they’ve never seen a dungeon like the one I vaguely recall designing.  And this time there won’t be any money concerns getting in the way.  Nope.  Tonight it’s just going to be nothing but gaming – we spoke and made it absolutely clear that we won’t be doing anything but rolling them dice and looking for loot.  Heh, these Papist noodle-slurping Hajnal line straddlers don’t have any clue what’s about to hit them.

The recording guys already left.  They wanted to be nice and discreet so that the microphones wouldn’t interfere with the game, so they used really small ones and put them where they can’t be seen.  Clever guys.  The only one that I can remember where it is, is the big one duct taped to my chest.  With the heavy mat of fur that covers my glorious body, I’m not looking forward to ripping that one off, but you know me – anything for the game.

Tonight is going to be epic.

I can feel it.

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