When the jocks used to say, “Don’t hate the player, hate the game” I never knew what they meant. What game? Is it on Nintendo? Can I walk into EB and get a copy? But throughout the years, bits and pieces slowly came together and I realised what they meant but still wasn’t quite sure what it was - until I read The Game by Neil Strauss.

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If you know me well enough you’d know that I’m a huge Medieval freak. I love all that swords, shield and knights shit. Heck, I had my best times in the backyard when I was a wee lad pretending I was the best motherfucking warrior that graced this motherfucking planet. And with Frank Miller’s 300 on the horizon, things can’t get any sweeter…

Looks small doesn’t it? Well the brick it’s sitting on is standard sized. Now go find a brick and allow your mouth to drop as you realise how big this motherfucker is. It’s big enough to bite your leg off, which would be a wicked story to tell your boss. And after hearing your brave tale, your boss should award you with “Employee of the moth….”