Picture by Rosaura Ochoa
Oh Valentines day… with your naked babies shooting arrows at people, and your hearts made of sugar and chalk that you convince children taste good, and your poorly rhymed greeting cards… We don’t understand you; But that doesn’t mean we won’t try! There is much we love in geekdom, so we present to you: Love letters from Dorkadia.
Dear Doc Hammer and Jackson Publick,
I love you. Even though Doc Hammer actually looks like Pete White, and I think Jackson Publick peed on the back of my building in college, I love you. Your in-depth discussions of exactly what a “Rusty Venture” really is light my fire. Your never ending quest to make me feel even more awkward than Hank and Dean when someone not watching the show walks into the room is entrancing. I know you’re just playing hard to get by taking nearly as long as George R.R. Martin to fucking finish something. I know you don’t mean to hurt me that way. Come back. Please come back.
Ryan Sohmer and Lar Desouza,
I cannot remember how long I’ve had you in my life, and I can’t imagine life without your wonderful and often apocryphal works. Well, I guess I’d have a few less comics to read on a regular basis and I’d then get to work on time more often which probably isn’t a bad thing, but that’s not the point. What’s important is that I can count on you guys to provide me with the laughter and social discomfort I need to start my day every day. And then you even give me an effeminate elf and murderous warlock to laugh at twice a week as a bonus. Hell, I’ll even let you have credit for The Gutters even though Lar has nothing to do with those and Ryan only writes most. What I’m trying to say is that I’d rather you not stop making comics because I’ve already got these bookmarked and I’m kinda lazy.
Dear Luke Crane:
You make me tell you what I want and you want me to make it explicit. The game rules you set are absolute and you’re not afraid to tell me to play by them. The promise of sweet rewards makes me fight for what I want. You know what a good game master should do: hit where it hurts. No one turns my (burning) wheel like you do.
(Please read with the added commentary: I don’t know if that’s even close to appropriate. This is a real guy out there somewhere. Jesus.)
Listen. I don’t love you, and you should know that.
It’s not like I never loved you. We had our times. Wonderful, passionate times, where everything you did was new and exciting and every stupid thing I did was easy to justify. And I can’t say I regret them. After all, when the fun was over, there were still all those people we met. Some seriously fantastic people. Your friends have always been pretty cool. And that’s, well, that’s the thing. Maybe I don’t love you anymore, and I know you never loved me. But…I still get along pretty well with your friends. Even the ones you’re sleeping with. Honestly, we get along just as well when you’re not around. Better, even, because we don’t have to invite your weird friends, or deal with you being, you know, you.
I guess it sounds messed up to put it like this, but I wanted to be honest. It’s always been pretty clear where I stood with you, and now you get where you stand with me. And if you’re cool with that, well, nothing needs to change right now. I like going to the same parties, and seeing the same people, and even when you’re having one of your little rough patches we can manage to make do. Maybe something will change down the road. But right now, World of Warcraft, I don’t need your love, and you don’t need mine. Just each other’s company. I think we can manage that.
Oh Twitter, How I love the way that you bring me news like a dog that is easily distracted by a squirrel; You tell me what in need in 140 characters or les
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