Tell Ma I Done Gone to Austin to Be a Rich and Famous Game Developer

Don’t wait up or nuthin’, Sean. You tell mamma I flunked outta art school ‘cuz it didn’t move me none. Tell her this here brick building in smelly ol’ New York City ain’t got the soul, it don’t give me pause for nothin’. You tell her that. I didn’t flunk none ‘cuz I was lazy, I flunked ‘cuz they don’t see art as art even if it right there shootin’ at ‘em with a chaingun.

By the time you get this email, I’ve run oft to Austin, Austin Texas, where I’m gonna be famous and make computer games, ‘jes like daddy.

Mamma never liked daddy, never showt us any the games he made after he’d run oft and left us. I didn’t see none ‘til we took onna them “computer aided de-sign” classes. Someone showt me those games with the monsters in the maze? And I started playin, you know, makin’ my own mazes an’ my own monsters. This one, I callt it “Two-headed Juggernot-not-dot-com?” Real live color-cyclin’ slime-n’ stuff. Won me an award on the Inter-net. Then I says to myself, “Raymond? That’s yer callin’. Makin’ them critters that chase people on them Internet games.” I made me monsters until I done flunked e’ry course they got here, ‘cuz they don’t learn you nothin’ about games. And I don’t care nothin’ ‘cept what for with me and my monsters.

Now I gotta follow dad’s footsteps. Austin, Texas. Can’t think of a more glitzy, glamourous-like place. Gonna be famous. Gonna get rich. Get the fast cars, get me the stock options, electric pants, pretty soon the bresat implants. Two of ‘em. Gonna get me an agent. Gonna make me some monsters, Sean. Monsters in 3-dee. Tell mamma I love her.       -Raymond


Victim Pic Small

Hallo, sir? Can you gimmie a ride, down south-like? I can make you a monster, sure as I know tyin’ shoes…


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