“I bought 2 new games. They’re both by the same people who did ‘Mass Effect’.”

“The one where you were the chief?”

“No, the one where I was the captain of a ship.”

(Blank look)

“The one with all the sex.”

“Ah, that one.”

“And I don’t know what’s in these games, but the clerk made me show him my ID when I was checking out.”

“Wow-what does it say?”

“Hm, only blood, gore, and violence. But no sex.”

“Oh well, you can’t have everything.”

(The opening title sequence plays out on the TV screen.)

“But apparently it does have titties.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a video game without titties now, would it?”

Me: I think the robots in this game are a little anachronistic.

(Yes, I was trying to hold to a uniform standard a video game whose only consistency lies in the constant featuring of scantily-clad, anatomically-impossibly-large bosomed females.)

My husband: I don’t think they’re robots, so much as animated suits of armor.

Me: Scarily, that actually makes sense.

…but this weekend I let my husband teach me how to play video games on the Play Station.

And now I have become one of those people who randomly yell out nonsensical things like, “Damn you and your flaming venom breath!”

The good times just never end here.