Well, it's round about that time again where I set the world of wargaming to rights with my sagely advice. My inbox has been quite literally overflowing of late, so let's crack on.
First up is a little lady by the name of Rick:
Dear Uncle Truth,
I have a dead good idea for a... erm... game. Yes, that's it, a game!
It's not got any figures, or rules or anything, but basically I want $300,000 cash money, (no cheques). Don't worry about the figures and all that shite, cos even though I practically invented wargaming I apparently - to all extents and purposes - believe that no cunt in this hobby cares about them despite overwhelming personal experience to the contrary.
Dear Rick. That sounds like a truly splendid idea. Put me down for 3... whatever it is you're trying to raise money for.
Piss off Jervis and stop copying Admiral Ackbar!
Here's another phlegm-ridden apology for an email. This time it's from your Mum:
Dear every cunt,
your tea is out on the table and is getting cold. Also, here's $300,000. Nip to the Rick Priestley on the way home and get me a... thing.
Love Mum x
Well, that's all the cock-spasm I can handle this week. I'm off to wipe my arse with a Black Library novel that wasn't written by Dan or Nik Abnett.