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About Us

Gentlemen Gamers is a small corner of the web dedicated to gaming as experienced by a loose herd of what we shall generously call “gentlemen”. Although of advancing years and receding hairlines they can still rock an AK-47 and are dedicated to adding daily to an improbably large and ever-growing mountain of dead aliens, ninjas, robots, assorted johnny foreigners, zombies, nazis, zombie-nazis, and… erm… anyone else who doesn’t get off their bloody lawn!

From the early days of Binatone’s blippity-bloppity TV Game Mk6, via 8-bit classics on cassettes painstakingly copied and furtively pressed into eager palms in the playground, through 16 whole roaring bits, numerous format wars, studio booms and busts and the sacrifice of originality on the bloody altar of publishers’ profits, these grumpy old sods have seen it all, played most of it, and disdainfully pissed on the rest. From Leather Goddesses of Phobos to Civilization V, from Manic Miner to Medal of Honour, they have borne first-hand witness to the birth of every game genre and every classic game that you’ve ever heard of and even more that you haven’t. They’re old. They wear glasses and their knees pop, but by God give them an assault rifle and they will still kick your candy-ass, sunshine.

Once they remember what the key-bindings are.

If you really must know, the Gentlemen Gamers are:

Brassneck

Brassneck

Gaming since the Speccy. Remembers 386-based PCs, MS-DOS, scavenging high memory blocks with CONFIG.SYS, 14″ fishbowl CRT monitors and beige-themed hardware with no nostalgia whatsoever. A librarian IRL, his games collection resembles an archaeological dig of gaming history and evolution. Enjoys strategy games and RPGs, where his poor marksmanship and sluggish reflexes are less of a handicap, and usually plays support classes in FPSs for the same reasons.

Trip Hazzard

Trip Hazzard

Trip has been playing with himself since the dawn of time, possibly longer as nobody is quite sure how old he is and we’re too afraid to ask. During the hours of sunlight Trip does something in digital marketing, we don’t really know what that means  but suspect it has involved some kind of contract written in his own blood.  When not talking a storm about gaming over a pint or seven he can usually be found online, shooting people in the face and giggling like a moon-faced country cousin who lurks in the coal shed whilst clutching the limp body of a kitten to his chest. Don’t ever give him a bazooka.

Red Bleeder

Red Bleeder

Red spent eleven years roaming in the desolate wilderness as a child before the sky was split asunder by a shaft of heavenly light and he stumbled, blinking in awe and disbelief, across the legendary BBC Micro. It was love at first sight and since then he has avidly stroked, humped and broken more computers than can be written across the sweaty arse cheeks of Vanessa Feltz, in very small letters. Having worked in various fields over the years, from software development to graphic design, Red’s one and only abiding career is as a gamer; the pay may be shit but the perks are great and he’s currently considering voluntary castration to prevent any form of adult responsibility from poisoning his gaming nirvana.

BlueMonkey

BlueMonkey

Blue, the latest addition to GentlemenGamers, is a very naughty boy. Show him a system and he will not hesitate to subvert it. We like him. He thinks big. And twisty. But he does have very dubious tastes in music. An IT technician and all-round uber geek, he never ceases to surprise us with his devious plans and unflinching, anarchic approach to all things blinky and beepy. He can usually be be found in our MineCraft server building breathtaking… um… things. We think he has a solid amphetamine connection. Did we mention he’s naughty?

Contact Us

Got something to say? We love to hear from the outside world; hunched in our darkened, flickering game pods we sometimes forget that there is one out there so go ahead and tell us what’s on your mind, it’s good therapy for us.

Either drop us a line at gentlemengamers [at] gmail [dot] com or use the form below and at some point we’ll stop playing long enough to have a pee and pick up our mail.

Oh, and we hate spam just as much as you do so we promise that we will never sell or pass on your information.

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