Cleaning up the streets of the wild American west are my earliest memories behind the computer screen. I began playing Mad Dog McCree when I was about 3 years old and, to be brutally honest, this experience was characterized more by my own tears than that of the bandits and outlaws I was trying to bring to justice. Screaming and crying, Screaming and crying (and i'm pretty sure I broke 1 or 2 keyboards too *facepalm), but not willing to give up I persisted and would play until my parents finally dragged me away if only to stop my hysterics for just a few hours.

Here's the tragedy. Being 3-years old goes hand in hand with being a n00b - due to my lack of FPS skill and my lack of CD-care-understanding, I never got to finish the game. By the time I was good enough to complete it, the disk was to scratched to be read.

Life, thou art a cruel b**ch.