Played a couple of hours of Resident Evil 2 Remake this evening, and am pleased to see so far that it appears to live up to the positive reception it had when it first released: it feels like a Resident Evil game while simultaneously also feeling pleasantly modern.

I am particularly pleased to see that the way in which you use items to solve puzzles and manipulate objects in close-up is still present; this feels like an important part of the "survival horror" era of Resident Evil, and it just wouldn't be Resident Evil 2 without it.

I'm not going to talk too much about the game right now as I'll be writing about it on Rice Digital as part of the ongoing Resident Evil Retrospective I'm doing over there, but suffice to say that it's been a good time so far — and I'm also very impressed with its performance on a base PS4, too; I wasn't expecting it to run quite so smooth and slickly, but it really does look great.

Instead, I thought I'd share a story about the original Resident Evil 2 from back when it originally came out. It's not a story with any real point to it and it's probably only interesting to me, but it's an important part of why Resident Evil 2 is such a fond memory for me.

Resident Evil 2 came out just in time for a long, hot summer while my friends and I were enjoying our time in post-compulsory education. After a year of studying for our A-Levels — and with another year ahead of us still to go — we were, of course, pretty keen to let our hair down in the summer holidays.

As it happened, my parents had gone away for a trip to the States to go and see my brother. It was my first time "home alone", and of course I did some things I regret that I got into a lot of trouble for, but that's a story for another time perhaps. The majority of that summer holiday was spent in the company of a couple of good friends who were pretty much as nerdy about gaming as I still am.

When Resident Evil 2 came out, we all picked it up, and since my house was becoming the default place to hang out, become intoxicated, eat Pot Noodles and play video games, that was the venue for us playing it a whole bunch.

As a tangent, I'll just point out at this stage that some weeks prior to the incident I'm about to describe, another friend had helpfully informed me that I "say the word 'cock' like a porn star". This led to the word "cock", being said like a porn star, becoming something of an unofficial greeting, term of endearment and general-purpose mildly offensive word between most of our friendship group.

Which leads us to the Resident Evil 2 incident. Our friend Ed had gone to bed as he hadn't been able to take the Frogger marathon we'd enjoyed earlier in the evening. Naturally, we left an active metronome outside his door to see how long it would take for him to notice. (Quite a while, as I recall… at least until we put the bell on.) My other friend Woody and I, however, we had been drinking, and we were up for some zombie action.

We began a Claire A playthrough. And after some initial laughing at the dialogue — "that guy's a maniac! Whhhhhy'd he bite me?!" — we settled into a routine of saying nothing but "COCK" to one another in the aforementioned style of a porn star. (If you want to recreate it for yourself, say the word "cock" while throwing your head back, placing a strong emphasis on the "oh" phoneme and a slight pause before concluding with the "ck")

This continued for approximately two hours as we played through most of Resident Evil 2 for the umpteenth time. To this day, I still have no idea why we started doing this, nor why it continued for quite that long. But it remains an oddly special memory to me, even though it's absolute complete and utter nonsense — and thus whenever I think of Resident Evil 2 on the PS1, I think of "Cock! Cock! Cock!"

• Opening a fridge

• Opening a packet of sandwich ham, chicken, turkey or related meats

• Making a sandwich

• Opening a bottle of milk

• Picking up a packet of treats

• Being sad

• Being lonely

• Wanking

• Having a poo

• Sitting or lying on a bed

• Joining a Teams call

• Sitting down for dinner

• Staying up too late

• Trying to sleep

• Sleeping in too late

• Trying to get up

I could go do any one of those things right now, in a room on the other end of the house to the cats, and within a few seconds I would have at least one cat staring at me. Which makes some of the things on that list more awkward than others.

And I wouldn't change it for anything!

Every so often when I feel like watching something nicely chilled out, I turn to Squirrel's channel on YouTube. For the unfamiliar, Squirrel is a softly-spoken Brit who plays a lot of simulation games; I first became aware of him back around the time Microsoft Flight Simulator (the new one) came out, but have been exploring some of his other stuff.

Just recently I happened to catch a vid of his on a game called SnowRunner, which I thought looked interesting. SnowRunner is the third in a series of games that also includes SpinTires and MudRunner, and it's a game about offroading. I'd previously played SpinTires a bit and found it interesting but ultimately a bit directionless, but what I saw of SnowRunner in Squirrel's video looked thoroughly interesting — there very much seemed to be a solid "game-like" structure in there along with all the driving very slowly through mud.

Interestingly, I happened to catch Squirrel's video on the subject literally the same day SnowRunner stopped being an Epic Games Store exclusive and released its Steam and console versions.

So I picked it up and gave it a go this evening, and found it remarkably enjoyable. It strikes a great balance between having a simulation "feel" to it and providing the accessibility of a modern console game — I nabbed it on PC, as it's had enough updates to make a physical edition fairly useless… and besides, it very much "feels like a PC game", if you get me. And the hint of that interesting structure I saw in Squirrel's video turned out to be exactly what I hoped: plenty of incentive to explore the game's beautifully crafted world in a variety of different vehicles, some varied objectives to accomplish and a nice feeling of progression as you play.

So far I haven't done all that much; I've helped rebuilt a bridge by delivering some metal and wood to the building site, and I've unlocked my own personal garage, where I can purchase and upgrade my various vehicles. I also drove very slowly to a scenic waypoint on top of a nearby mountain, got stuck in a swamp and fell off a cliff, landing on my tailgate, nose pointing straight up, completely trapped against a tree. Delightful.

I like having a game like this on hand, because it definitely feels like a great "I just want to chill out and relax" sort of game. Retro games often fill that void for me, but sometimes you're in the mood for something relaxing, but modern. SnowRunner definitely fits that bill — and with the sheer amount of "stuff" there is in that game, I don't think I'm going to exhaust what it has to offer any time soon!

Got up a bit late to go for a walk this morning, so went for one this evening instead. And while I was wandering around — unconnected to any sort of technology, as I've developed a taste for on my last few excursions — I found myself thinking "hmm, this sort of looks like Center Parcs".

For the unfamiliar, Center Parcs is a series of holiday villages scattered around Europe. I believe they're originally Dutch, but there are several here in the UK, and the last few times Andie and I have actually "been on holiday" as opposed to "having a few days off", we've gone to one of them.

Center Parcs' defining feature is that they're plonked right in the middle of a forest, which means your accommodation is surrounded by trees, to get anywhere you have to walk down pleasant roads that are lined with trees and other natural vegetation, and the whole place feels very "natural"; even inside the main plaza of the place, which houses a bunch of shops and restaurants, there are a lot of plants growing, and the place is heated and humidified to a pleasantly tropical-esque environment without being overbearing.

The reason why I was thinking about this was that one of the things I like the best about going to Center Parcs is just being in the forest. I could easily spend a week there and not actually do anything — just enjoy hanging out, relaxing and being in the forest. And while I was walking across the Common this evening, struck by how much the tree-lined path I was walking down resembled similar experiences I'd had at Center Parcs, I found myself pondering why it nonetheless felt different.

I think it's the fact that when you're at Center Parcs, you know you're on holiday. You know that you have no commitments; you know that when you reach your destination, something nice is going to happen. You're going to do an activity you enjoy, or you're going to eat some nice food, or you're going to get back to your accommodation and relax for a while.

Conversely, while I was walking down the aforementioned foresty paths on the Common, I knew that when I reached my destination I was going to have to get in my car, fight the traffic just to turn around and get back home, and then when I was back at home I'd have to go to bed at a reasonable time so I can be up in a timely manner for work in the morning. I mean, none of that is especially bad — particularly as I enjoy my work now, obviously — but still, that simple addition of commitments, however seemingly minor, means that you're not free to just "enjoy".

Perhaps it's a matter of having a different mindset; enjoying things in the moment, rather than thinking about what comes next. It's usually not an issue for me while I'm, say, enjoying a game — so while I'm out and about I should just try and concentrate on the pleasant sensations of being among the trees and nothing else. I'll work on it!

I've had somewhat mixed feelings about Trophies and Achievements in the years since they were introduced, but in the last day, I decided to turn off Trophy notifications on PS4. I've been playing lots of Switch games — which obviously don't have Trophies or Achievements — and I've actually found the Trophies I've been getting in the Resident Evil games I've been playing on PS4 to be extremely obtrusive.

I think part of the problem I have with them is that they're trying desperately to be "witty" but it just comes across as having some little gremlin on your shoulder giggling and spouting the most inane pop culture references every time you do something vaguely noteworthy. When I defeated a humanoid leech in Resident Evil Zero using fire-based attacks? "Got a light, bud?". Stomp on a zombie head for the first time? "Dead, Dead, Deadski". Try and push a heavy thing with Rebecca? "I'm a Medic, Not a Bodybuilder".

I know not all Trophies are like this, but something in me just found these Trophies in particular so utterly cringeworthy that I just can't be arsed to engage with them. They were actively obnoxious and pulled me out of the atmosphere of the game; I know Resident Evil games are inherently rather silly at heart — particularly once you've cleared a first playthrough — but while I'm enjoying that first playthrough I don't need the aforementioned giggling gremlin trying to be funny while I'm doing stuff.

So I turned him off. And I'm enjoying the peace!

Can't remember if I mentioned this before, but I'm trying to get into a good habit of going for a walk each morning before work, just to get a bit of exercise, get my body working and hopefully eventually build up a bit of stamina. I really like the local Common as a place to walk around, so I'm planning to head over there most mornings, walk around for a while and then head back, have breakfast and start work.

I actually started this process last week, but very quickly ended up with a winning combination of chafed thighs and blisters on both my heels. Andie suggested getting some cycling shorts to help with the former, so I've done that. And it appears that purchasing a pair of cycling shorts is not an entirely straightforward experience — for men, anyway; I don't know if it's the same for women.

I've ended up with a pair of breathable pants with a big absorbent pad that goes under your arse and balls to catch all the sweat. It's primarily designed to cushion your squishy bits when sitting on a bicycle saddle, but its absorbent nature also suggests to me that it will counteract "swamp ass" to a certain degree, which will be nice. As a larger gentlemen, I tend to be a tad prone to getting a sweaty crack if I go walking for a bit, and it can be uncomfortable after a short period.

So long as it helps with the chafed thighs, I'll be happy; chafed thighs are spectacularly uncomfortable and I've always been a bit prone to them, even when I was a bit lighter. One time at university I remember walking back from a friend's house to my own home after a heavy night out drinking and getting chafing so bad it actually bled. That made for a horrifying sight when I took my trousers off, I can tell you. Thankfully, that was a good 20 years ago and hasn't happened since, but, well, obviously you will understand that I'm in no hurry to allow that to happen again.

I'm intrigued to try these magic pants out tomorrow morning, and see if they have any impact on my overall "comfort" level while going out for a walk. If they do, I might consider getting a few more pairs. If not, well, I'm only £15 down (cycling shorts are expensive — these were some of the cheaper ones!), and I needed some new pants anyway.

Those who have been reading for a while will recall that I've been getting back into magazines recently. I ordered a bunch of retro mags (as in, actually old magazines) from eBay a while back, and I also subscribed to the modern Retro Gamer magazine. And you know what, I've been really enjoying reading these magazines — a lot more than reading websites.

As it happens, I don't really read big gaming websites at all any more. Since around 2010 or so, when many of them seemed to establish an actively adversarial relationship with their readership, I just haven't really enjoyed reading many of them; add clickbait into the equation and I have no real desire to support many of them any more. I don't need to go to them for news, reviews are churned out with little real care in order to hit an embargo date, and opinion pieces… well, the less said about those, the better in most cases.

You could level some of those criticisms — or similar ones, anyway — at magazines, of course. Magazines have got things wrong before; magazines on store shelves need to do something to make you read them (though delightfully, Retro Gamer has clean, text-free subscriber-only covers that highlight the gorgeous artwork they use each issue); and sometimes reviewers don't have nearly enough space to talk about something complex.

But there's something different there that I really like; I think it's the distinct separation between the people writing the magazine and the audience. It's an unspoken agreement that the people writing the magazine are the ones "in charge" in this interaction, and the audience, in turn, trusts them to provide accurate and/or entertaining information.

With a magazine, there's no articles that you feel have been written purely to bait people into getting angry in the comments; indeed, there are no comments at all. It sounds like a stupidly obvious thing to say, but the fact that you finish reading a magazine article and then have no opportunity to get tempted into reading what some illiterate, angry teenager has to say about something the writer never actually said in the article… oh, it's bliss, it is, it really is.

Plus the simple fact that the magazine is a tangible, physical object inherently makes me value it — and its contents — a lot more. I've lost count of the number of times I've been distracted by the noise of your average webpage these days — particularly as autoplaying video ads seem to be becoming more and more pervasive on big sites — and I absolutely hate reading things for too long on either a phone or tablet screen.

The one benefit the Internet has is that it brings people together. I wouldn't have met most of you people reading this if the Internet wasn't a thing — indeed, many of you even know me because of my writing for websites; something that I still do to this day. You will probably have noticed if you've been around as long as I have, though, that the vibe I have on the sites that I work on is distinctly magazine-inspired rather than anything else; that is absolutely deliberate due to my own personal preferences, and actually sitting down with some magazines for the first time in years is reminding me exactly why I have those preferences.

That was a ramble with no real point, huh? But anyway. Subscribe to Retro Gamer or something, it's worth it. And they probably have some sort of offer on right now, they usually do.

Counting up the number of games on Atari Flashback Classics left to go in Atari A to Z Flashback, it seems I have "just" 30 left! I mean, at the rate of one a week that's still a significant chunk of a year left to go, but it feels like I'm getting close to the end.

I don't think there's too many more two player-only titles I'll have to torment my wife with from hereon, either; I think there's a couple of M Network sports games that are two-player only, but most of the other Atari sports titles actually have single-player options, I believe.

Got a few ones I've been looking forward to covering coming up soon. Sprintmaster (or Sprint Master, depending who you talk to) is this weekend, then after that there's the 2600 and 5200 versions of Star Raiders. Star Raiders (on the Atari 8-bit) is one of my favourite games of all time, so getting the opportunity to play variations on it two weeks in a row will be thoroughly pleasant. I anticipate the 5200 version may be a little awkward with the simulated keypad in Atari Flashback Classics, but with the ability to map certain keypad controls directly to the controller, I'm sure we'll figure something out.

When I started these video projects, I had no idea I'd stick with them as long as I have, but they've become part of the "routine" now; they're a project I enjoy working on, and I can think of far worse ways I could be spending my time! Of course, the 8-bit and ST series are arguably projects with no end, but the nice thing about Atari A to Z Flashback is that it does have an end, it does have a point where I can say "yep, I'm absolutely 100% done, and I have a finished product I'm proud of".

I'm already making plans for some sort of finale sequence — the fact that Yars' Revenge is the last game in the collection means that the delightfully awful Kid Stuff record will almost certainly make some sort of appearance. Then I'll have to find something else to fill my third weekly slot with! Or I could take a little break…

Nah.

I'm tired. Tired of the noise of everyday life, tired of shouting into the void that is social media, tired of general existence. I'm not sure I'd describe what I'm feeling as "depression", but there's a certain… I don't know, "emptiness" there that is frustrating. Because I don't know what to do about it.

I mean, I'm enjoying what I do, greatly. I'm proud of the work I put out. The numbers are going up, suggesting that I'm doing something right. But there just feels like there's something… "missing". And I tend to blame how Twitter — probably social media in general — has changed over the course of the last decade and a bit.

When I first joined Twitter, it was a place to hang out, chat, enjoy yourself. It was fun. I had friends there. I met new people through there and got to know them — hell, technically I met my wife there. I'd share pieces of writing I'd done, I'd talk about them with friends, it was enjoyable.

These days, it really does feel like shouting into a void sometimes. I make a point of sharing stuff that I've done that I think is interesting, enjoyable or otherwise of interest to the people who follow me, and there's just… silence. I'm not blaming anyone reading this, I hasten to add, because I know a significant number of you are great about sharing, commenting, talking about things — I'm simply talking more generally.

When I look at a tweet from someone sharing some vapid nonsense about nothing in particular and it gets thousands upon thousands of comments, likes, retweets and whatever, it's frustrating. I don't care so much about the numbers, since they're ultimately meaningless. But sometimes I kind of think it would just be nice to hear something as simple as a "hey, nice job", "that was interesting" or "I enjoyed that".

I know I'm not the only one who feels like this — at least one of you following me has commented something along similar lines before. It's just been weighing on my mind a bit recently; with how connected we all supposedly are in this day and age, it feels surprisingly difficult to actually, you know, connect with someone over something you've done.

Maybe I should just start a TikTok and shout at video game boxes or something.

Got my first COVID-19 vaccine today. I'm a Pfizer boi, if you were curious. I seem to have been mostly free of side-effects, though my arm is aching and feeling very "heavy" right now and I did have a little nap earlier. (The latter wasn't necessarily vaccine-related; I just felt like a nap.) I seem to have escaped headaches and feeling "ill", though — for the moment at least.

I was impressed with the efficiency of the operation at the local health centre. They had incoming cars organised nicely, people split into different queues and a couple of separate "pods" operating simultaneously. There was a constant stream of people coming in, having their initial assessment/talk with the nurse, then heading in for the jab itself, and at no point was there any real waiting around for more than a couple of minutes at a time. In fact, the longest wait I had was the 15 minutes after the jab where they tell you to go sit in a room and do nothing just in case you keel over dead or something.

Thankfully, I have not keeled over dead, with the only slightly adverse effects being what I've already described. The injection itself also felt kind of like a bit of a non-event; I barely even felt anything. I'm not complaining, mind; I'm rather uneasy around medical stuff at the best of times, with said uneasiness increasing the more "serious" stuff is around — I'm terrified of the prospect of having an operation, for example, even though I know I'll need one at some point to fix my hernia.

Thankfully, all the staff at the centre did a great job of setting me (and indeed everyone else) at ease, and by the time the injection itself happened it was just… not a big deal at all. "You ready?" the nurse said. "Yep," I said. "It's done," she said. And that was that.

Anyway. That's a notable step back towards normality, I guess. Got another one to look forward to in a while, then I'll be all vaxxed up. Hurrah.