by Charles Irwell  It seems that, from eye-watering price tags to greasy gambling mechanics to endless bloody social controversies, the games industry is heading for the inaugural Queen’s Award for Most Ironically Christened Shitshow. Well, if Brexit can happen… Aging pillocks like me with a mortgage, job and girlfriend, who simply

“So you’re Mark?” a guy I didn’t know said to a guy I was talking to. “I know we’ve met before.” “I don’t think we have,” he replied, “since my name’s Peter.” “I don’t know why I didn’t remember that,” the first guy said, embarrassed. “You have to hear the