On Tuesday I reviewed Suburbia, a fantastic tile laying city building game, however, I didn’t get around to writing about the expansions. Writing reviews for games is a leisurely stroll through a new area, lots to look at and enjoy. Writing reviews for expansions is like retreading the same path, no need to absorb it all, but need to get it done for the exercise. Therefore, if you’re expecting something massive, I’m sorry to disappoint you. Funnily enough, that’s exactly what I said to my wife the first time we met. Continue reading
Suburbia is the second of four board games to feature in Roll to Review’s Critical Hit January, so let’s get the verdict out of the way. Suburbia is great, and I highly recommend it. That’s my opinion, but be aware it’s more biased than usual. I have an affinity for these types of build and manage games. In the two and a half months since my wife gave birth, I’ve spent exactly thirteen hours playing video games. That’s wrong. I’ve spent thirteen hours playing a single video game: Planet Coaster. Keep this in the back of your mind as you read, and remember, never have kids.
I was going through my collection the other day, and the reviews already up here on my website, and realized that I have a very strong persuasion to light games. Makes sense. I prefer games that I can put on the table and everyone has a good time. The downside to this is that it leaves a hole in my collection: medium weight games. Here are four medium weight games, that I’m extremely excited about:
Ever since the Cold War, business has been bad for mad scientists. They can no longer afford the good monsters. Instead they need to retreat to the discount shop, where the monsters are off-brand and half price, and a salesman follows them around the store. How do you do today? Just browsing? No, sorry, we don’t have the Creature from the Black Lagoon, is Swamp Creature OK? It’s more affordable and works in any coloured body of water. Dracula? Last one was sold this morning. A well written review on Campy Creatures? We don’t sell that here, you’ll have to go elsewhere.
First off, Happy New Year! We made it past an arbitrary point in time. Now we get to spend the next couple of months awkwardly changing our sevens to eights.
Otters can go to hell. These little bastards ruined not one, but two games of Robinson Crusoe for me. That sentence, and the knowledge that this board game comes with a forty page plus manual, should be enough to determine whether you want to continue reading this review.
The advertised perfect Christmas isn’t something we get in Australia. No snow, inhabitable climate for reindeer, and Australians generally don’t put effort into any holiday – except for Australia Day, when we drink beer, put snags on the barbie and watch the cricket. With that in mind, I’ll be reviewing Christmas-opoly.
You’ve got to wonder what it’s like to be a designer asking a reviewer to check out your game. It’s like in ancient times where the Vikings would sacrifice a lamb to the gods. Did I just compare myself to god? Look at the ego on this guy, after one person asks me to review their game, I act like I’m a doctor. If you didn’t get that, it’s because you’ve never heard the joke: what’s the difference between a god and a doctor? The god doesn’t walk around thinking he’s a doctor. Anyway, this is my round-a-bout way of providing a disclaimer that Get Adler! was provided for free.
I can’t swim. I mean, I can swim but I’m really bad at it. In high school I was nicknamed ‘the drowning rat,’ and that was before the school got involved. They had a mandatory swim class which I excused myself from every chance I could – probably explains why I’m so bad. At the end of the semester they awarded certificates based on how well you performed. The best swimmers receiving a Shark certificate, then dolphin, then manta ray, turtle, and so forth. For me, they gave me a Starfish certificate. Let that sink in for a second; starfish don’t even swim! Given all of this, would someone tell me, why the hell I bought a board game based entirely in the ocean?
Am I the only one who finds the ‘party games’ nomenclature weird? I was brought up on Hollywood’s definition of party meaning: loud music, pookah shell necklaces, dancing, drugs, that one dude yelling ‘Party’, alcohol, and more recently, sexual harassment. Nowhere in that idea is someone lugging around a 12-player party pack of Telestrations, asking the DJ to cut the noise for a rules explanation. However, if you know of a party like that; put me on the guest list.