My Grandma plays video games. Wait- no, that doesn't do it justice: Grandma is fucking hardcore. She has a decent size TV in her room with surround sound, Digital Cable (through she never watches), GameCube, XBox, Playstation 2, SNES, and Genesis (with the 32X if you can believe that). It's not just that she plays, anyone can go through the motions of a walkthrough of a console game if they plug at it enough, she's good. She plays anywhere from 12 to 16 hours a day for RPG (Final Fantasy Series, Xenosaga, Zelda Series, Ico, etc.,.); 10 to 12 hours if she's on a sports fix (Outlaw Golf is particularly a favorite at the moment); and she gets kicks from destroying guests at the Multiplayer of your choice while serving them the indignity of simultaneously providing delicious cookies.
She's had two knee replacements and countless surgeries. If you were to see her in a grocery store you would see a old, Midwestern diabetic with thick glasses held up by a crutch or a shopping cart stumbling along smiling at everybody. She's polite, a safe driver, mother of five and grandmother of twelve. She's great. But if you get her in front of a game she likes, she becomes a monster; a demon who craves the blood, nay- the life-force of her enemies manifested as a swear happy old lady in a comfy chair. She has destroyed many controllers in frustration, already wore out two PS2's, and will gladly walk into a Gamestop or EB Games with the swagger of one with more knowledge about games and gaming than the teenager behind the counter can ever hope to amass.
This blog will be a chronicle to my experiences with this fascinating woman. I will update will new stories as well as memories of past campaigns. Welcome to OGHC.