ghoulwithglasses

[ghoulwithglasses]

Respect the Roots: A Resident Evil Rant

Resident Evil 1 was released for the original PlayStation back in 1996. Two years later, Resident Evil 2 hit the shelves, and from there, a groundbreaking franchise was born. Without giving away my exact age, let’s just say I was introduced to the series in 1998 as a birthday gift. From the moment I booted up RE2 on my PlayStation, I was hooked and I've stayed hooked for the past 27 years.

Through every twist and turn; from the cheesy but iconic dialogue of the early games, to the “action-horror” missteps that left some of us cringing, to the absolutely terrifying reinvention of the series in RE7; I’ve followed the journey. I’ve stuck with it through the rise and fall of Umbrella, the horrors of bioweapons (B.O.W.s), and the evolution of a world forever changed by corporate greed and science gone wrong. I take pride in how deeply I know this lore, and how invested I’ve been in it for nearly three decades.

After the chaotic mess that was RE6, I genuinely feared the series was done for. But then came RE7; bold, different, terrifying and just like that, the series had a second life. Then, the community got what we’d been begging for: a remake of Resident Evil 2. And wow, Capcom delivered. It was everything I’d hoped for and more. With RE7 and the RE2 remake, a new generation of fans was introduced to the series. At first, I thought this was awesome; more people to share this world with, more hype, more love. But now, I’m getting kind of tired.

Why?...

Because with Resident Evil 9 officially announced and confirmed to return us to the ruins of where it all started (which, let me say, I am so here for), there’s been a resurgence in people wanting to “catch up” and experience the series from the beginning. On paper, that sounds great. But in practice, many of these new fans are diving into the original games and... complaining. A lot. They gripe about the fixed camera angles. They whine about getting lost. They don’t read the files. They don’t take time to figure things out. Instead, they try to speedrun the experience like it's just another modern title with bright yellow markers showing them where to go.

Case in point: I recently watched a newer fan try to play the RE1 remake. He admitted he’d only played the latest remakes and was now trying to play through the whole series before RE9. Sounds like a cool plan, right? Except he spent almost an hour wandering back and forth between the guardhouse and mansion, completely lost. Instead of taking in the atmosphere, reading the files, or trying to piece the puzzle together, he just kept expecting something to trigger. Eventually, I had to step in (with his permission) and guide him toward the Plant 42 fight; while he complained the entire time. Not just about being lost, but about the game itself. And look; I'm not trying to be mean. I hate being rude. But I was playing and completing these games when I was a kid. So yeah, it gets under my skin when someone bashes these classics just because they’re different or more challenging than what they’re used to.

Here’s the bottom line: You can love the newer entries. You can love RE7, RE8, and the remakes. That's totally fine. But please, don’t trash the games that built this franchise. Without those originals and the fans who stood by them, Resident Evil wouldn’t even exist today. Respect the foundation. Respect the games that gave us the world you're enjoying now.

You’re allowed to have opinions. You can critique games, you can get frustrated, and yeah, you can even rant (clearly, I do too). But if you’re diving into a legendary series like Resident Evil, try to appreciate the context. These older games weren’t made to hand-hold or color-code your path. They were built differently on purpose.

You don’t have to love the original titles, but at the very least, respect them. They’re the reason the series is still alive today.

[ghoulwithglasses]

Unraveling the Fog: A Review of The Casting of Frank Stone

Game Review: The Casting of Frank Stone By a proud whore for lore ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ (5/5)

If you know me even slightly, you know that I’m a whore for lore—and wow, does The Casting of Frank Stone deliver. Released in 2024 by Supermassive Games, this standalone horror narrative game takes place in the Dead by Daylight universe and expands its world in bold, creative ways. Despite mixed reviews, I thoroughly loved this game. From start to finish, I was invested, immersed, and emotionally hooked.

A Personal Take: Why I Loved It

Let me start by being transparent: horror narrative games are some of my all-time favorites. So, I went into The Casting of Frank Stone with high hopes—and it did not disappoint. The characters felt like real people, the world felt grounded, and the stakes were high. I honestly couldn’t wait to jump back into Cedar Hills for another playthrough as soon as the credits rolled.

While Steam currently rates the game at a 6/10 and IGN gave it a 5/10, I genuinely don’t understand the middle ground scores. For me, this game is a 10/10. It didn’t feel like a rushed cash grab. It felt like a fully realized, thoughtful love letter to the Dead by Daylight mythos.

Spoilers Ahead – You’ve Been Warned

At its core, The Casting of Frank Stone is a deeply unsettling narrative experience where your choices truly matter. The decisions you make throughout affect who lives, who dies, and ultimately, who escapes this nightmare. There were moments—especially near the climax—where I felt overwhelmed by the sheer chaos of events. But it all came together in the end, and that payoff felt incredibly satisfying.

Characters & Lore Integration

Every character felt distinct and well-written. Their interactions were believable, with just the right amount of awkwardness when the situation called for it. The game also brilliantly ties into Dead by Daylight’s ever-expanding lore. From in-world documents to visual cues and easter eggs, there’s plenty for long-time fans to appreciate. Exploring these lore elements was just as fun for me as progressing the actual story.

What I especially loved was how Frank Stone leaned into the concept of the Entity’s omniverse. This explains how characters from vastly different media franchises (Leon Kennedy, Ellen Ripley, Ash Williams, etc.) are pulled into the fog. But here, that idea isn’t just background—it’s central to the narrative. Seeing it explored so fully in a narrative game added a new level of depth to the Dead by Daylight universe that I didn’t expect.

Wishful Thinking & What Comes Next

I genuinely hope Behaviour (BHVR) continues down this path. Imagine a full Casting of Frank Stone chapter in Dead by Daylight: Frank as a fully original killer (not just a trapper cosmetic) and the main cast as survivors. I know it’s unlikely—but a fan can dream.

That said, it has been teased that Frank Stone may enter the fog in some form, so fingers crossed we get to see more of Cedar Hills and the nightmare it holds.

Final Thoughts

If you’re a fan of Dead by Daylight, especially its lore, and you enjoy choice-driven narrative horror games, The Casting of Frank Stone is absolutely worth your time. It expands the DBD universe in a meaningful and respectful way—and for a game that began with almost no story, that’s seriously impressive.

Now for a little wild speculation…

Since the Entity exists across an omniverse and the Observer has seen realities where Dead by Daylight exists in other forms of media, could we be… manifesting it? If belief gives power to old gods, and fans pour enough love, fear, and energy into this entity, could it start to bleed into our reality? I mean, people do disappear mysteriously every year. Look up the Missing 411 cases. Maybe, just maybe, our love for this game has conjured something ancient.

But hey—why not play it for yourself and see what you believe?

[ghoulwithglasses]

"Your Love Is Like": A Song That Found Me Again

In the early 2000s, I really started to explore the world of music. Sure, I had a CD player, but my collection was small and scattered—mostly random Top 40 singles or soundtracks from movies I loved. Still, every music lover starts somewhere. That was my foundation.

My older sister, on the other hand, had already carved out her own musical identity. Her tastes were more defined, often different from mine, but every now and then, our worlds would overlap. One of those rare intersections was a song titled "Your Love Is Like." I didn’t know the artist, didn’t recognize the voices, and I’d never heard it on the radio. It was just there—floating through the speakers one day on a mix CD her boyfriend had made for her. But from the very first listen, I was captivated. The lyrics, the melody, the mood—it all wrapped around me like a secret I had been waiting to hear.

At the time, I was a deeply closeted gay kid living in small-town Oklahoma. I had developed what I now know were maladaptive daydreams—elaborate imaginary stories I’d escape into, with music as the emotional backdrop. "Your Love Is Like" became the soundtrack to those daydreams. The song I’d hear in my mind whenever I imagined falling in love, holding hands with my crush, or being seen for who I really was.

After my sister and her boyfriend broke up, the mix CD found its way into my possession. I ripped the track to our family computer, and later, it became one of the first songs I added to my very first iPod. But like many cherished things, it eventually got lost. Somewhere between digital library cleanups and misplaced physical media, the song disappeared. It wasn’t on iTunes. It wasn’t on LimeWire. It wasn’t anywhere. Years would go by. Sometimes I’d forget about it. Sometimes it would haunt me. I even started to wonder—had I imagined it? Was this mysterious, perfect song just a fever dream?

Then, in my second year of college, I met someone who would become a major part of my life for the next five years. It wasn’t always pretty—our friendship had highs and devastating lows—but in that tangle of connection, we shared a lot. One Christmas, after I had told her about this elusive song that had lived in my heart for years, she gifted me a physical copy of the CD it came from.

The band? Spooky Tuesday. The album? The Trouble We Make.

I’d never heard of them before. I honestly haven’t heard much about them since. But that didn’t matter. I finally held the source of a song that had once helped me feel a little less alone.

This past weekend, while digging through a storage closet, I found that CD again—tucked away safely with other cherished belongings. Seeing it immediately brought the song back to life in my heart. I googled how to rip a CD to my iPhone (yes, it’s still possible!), and as I was setting it all up, I found myself wondering: Who were these people? Where did they go? And how did their music find its way into my life all those years ago?

The answers are few, but I found some clues. Spooky Tuesday was an indie band from Kauai, Hawaii, active in the mid-to-late '90s. They formed around 1995 and released The Trouble We Make in 1999. Another album, Incognito, followed in 2000, and then… silence. The band was a quartet:

Andrew Newman – Vocals, Guitar

Jess Penner – Vocals, Guitar

Kevin Penner – Drums

Justin Bundschuh – Bass

Their genre falls somewhere between alternative rock and pop rock, but honestly, they’re hard to pin down in the best way.

To me, this story speaks to the quiet power of music—how it can transcend geography, culture, and even time. A small indie band from Hawaii unknowingly gave hope to a closeted gay kid thousands of miles away in Oklahoma. That’s the magic of music. It becomes a lifeline, a time capsule, a love letter to the self.

"Your Love Is Like" didn’t just soundtrack my fantasies—it gave me something to believe in. That someday, somehow, I might experience the kind of love this song described. It remains one of my favorite songs of all time. And now that I’ve finally listened to the rest of the album again, I can say the whole thing is just as beautiful—haunting, honest, full of that raw sincerity that only indie artists seem to capture.

I don’t know where the members of Spooky Tuesday are now. I don’t know if they ever knew how far their music reached. But if by some miracle you find this post—thank you. Thank you for this song, this album, and for helping a lonely kid dream a little bigger.

I'll end this with some of the lyrics that have stayed with me all these years:

Your love is like salty summer kisses. Your love is like spring rain on my lips. Am I in debt? Do your stares entreat me? Am I in debt, beyond my riches? And I find you, remind to bear all my towers made of sand... Into your hands...

[ghoulwithglasses]

🚨 DON’T PANIC! 🚨 RESIDENT EVIL 9 IS COMING — February 27, 2026! That’s 265 days and 38 Saturdays away… and I’ve got a plan.

To celebrate the upcoming release of my all-time favorite series, I’ll be streaming every main Resident Evil game — from the beginning all the way to the launch of RE9!

🧟‍♂️ Starting this Saturday, every Saturday stream will be dedicated to the Resident Evil Saga. If anything unexpected comes up and I miss a Saturday, don’t worry — I’ll make it up on another stream day. I’m super excited and extremely motivated to see this through.

🗓️ I’ve even made a full schedule so that we’ll finish Resident Evil Village on Saturday, February 21, 2026 — right before RE9 drops.

So grab your green herbs, stock up on ammo, and join me on this horrific, chaotic, and absolutely iconic journey.

Let’s do this, survivors! 💀 twitch.tv/badthom121

[ghoulwithglasses]

Last night I kicked off my Planet Coaster playthrough and created Highpoint Park! I spent 90 minutes just getting the entrance just right (perfection takes time, okay?), then spent the rest of the stream slowly building up the park. I had such a good time that I ended up streaming more Planet Coaster tonight too!

I wanted to get Highpoint Park open to guests since I didn't last night... 😂 (Its now open to all)

Since it’s officially Pride Month now (happy June, y’all! 🏳️‍🌈), I decided to give Highpoint Park a Pride makeover! I even managed to set up a fireworks display (screenshot above!) that launches right down the main avenue of the park. Honestly, I think it turned out beautiful. Maybe a little corny—but in the best way.

Anyway, just wanted to share a pic and give a little update on the park and the stream. Tonight I got a new follower and a first-time chatter! It was super fun talking with them, and I hope they drop by again. Every follow and chat gets me one step closer to affiliate, and I really appreciate the support. 💖

Thinking I’ll stream more Planet Coaster tomorrow too—Highpoint Park isn’t going to build itself! If you'd like to check it out, here's the link to my twitch. twitch.tv/Badthom121

[ghoulwithglasses]

This was funnier in my head

[ghoulwithglasses]

Starting Fresh on Twitch – Again (A Rant, a Reflection, and a Reboot)

Well, against my better judgment, I’ve decided to start streaming on Twitch again. Yep, here we go — round two... or maybe more like round five at this point. But this time, it’s different. This time, I’m starting from scratch. A clean slate. A brand-new username, a new identity, and no baggage from the past.

Back in April, I had a falling out with one of my closest friends and most supportive followers — someone who had been part of nearly every stream, who was integral to the little community I had worked so hard to build. That fallout felt like a gut punch. Not just because of the personal sting, but because it forced me to confront something I had been trying to avoid for a while: things just weren’t working anymore. Not with Twitch. Not with my content. Not with my sense of fulfillment.

I walked away. From Twitch. From the half-dead Discord I’d tried to keep alive. From the screen name I’d used for almost four years. I was so deeply tired of that name. It carried weight — not the good kind. It reminded me of who I was when I started. And who I no longer wanted to be.

That account was born during a really dark chapter of my life. I started streaming back then as a distraction, a lifeline, something to look forward to. Somehow, I found a little community that welcomed me. They made me feel seen, even if I was just a voice behind a screen. Encouraged by that, I jumped into streaming. And for a while, it actually felt amazing. I was making something. Sharing my love for games. Building something real.

But over time, the momentum faded. The numbers stopped climbing. The chat got quieter. I took long breaks to recharge, hoping things would feel different when I returned. I came back refreshed and full of new ideas, only to be met with the same lack of engagement. I tried everything — rebrands, schedule changes, Discord revamps, themed events. It felt like I was throwing ideas into the void.

And so, I nuked it all. Left the Affiliate program. Deleted the account. Wiped the connected socials. Burned it all down.

I told myself I was done. That I had outgrown streaming, or that it had outgrown me. But over time, a feeling crept back in — something I hadn’t expected: I missed it. I missed hitting "Go Live." I missed sharing game moments with others. Hell, I even missed stressing about dropped frames and botched overlays.

So here I am, once again, standing at the edge of the stream (literally and figuratively). But this time, it’s different.

This new account wasn’t even supposed to be for streaming. It was just a placeholder. A quiet username with no expectations attached. But now? Now it’s my new beginning. And I’m coming into this with eyes wide open.

There’s no pre-existing community waiting for me. No built-in hype squad. Just me — and a small handful of friends who followed me into this new version of myself. That’s it. And that’s okay. Honestly, it’s kind of freeing.

This time, I’m doing everything on my terms.

No chasing trends. No trying to keep up with other streamers. No gifting subs just to keep someone’s attention. I’m not interested in playing the game of popularity anymore — I’m here to play actual games.

I’ll be setting firm boundaries. I’ll be taking things slow, building at a pace that feels sustainable. I’ll be consistent with my schedule and intentional with the games I choose to play. I’ll focus on creating a space that reflects who I am — a little weird, a little nerdy, full of aliens and game glitches and chaotic fun.

I know it won’t be easy. Building from the ground up never is. But I’m not expecting instant success. I’m not looking for viral clips or overnight fame. I just want something real.

So here are my first three goals for this rebooted Twitch journey:

Goal #1: Get Affiliate — start small, build the foundation

Goal #2: Reach 100 followers by October — a tangible milestone to work toward

Goal #3: Be consistent — show up, play games, keep promises to myself

More than anything, I want to enjoy this again. That’s the heart of it. Not numbers. Not clout. Just the love of gaming, of community, of connecting with people who might be out there feeling the same way I did when I first hit "Start Streaming" years ago.

If you’ve ever felt burnt out, disconnected, or like you had to walk away to find your way back — I see you. Here’s to fresh starts, to second (or fifth) chances, and to building something better, brick by brick.

If you'd like to check out my twitch and toss a me follow here's my link. Click here! Live on Mondays, Fridays, & Saturdays!

[ghoulwithglasses]

HV. 101 - Resident Evil 2 (1998)

[ghoulwithglasses]

欲しいときだけ、好きなだけ by Omayu

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Tyrantrum

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🐟🪷🌈🌈

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[ghoulwithglasses]

Carrie (1976)

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"The Stillness of a Roadside Diner"

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"Architectural Echoes"

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"Where I left them" (digital photo 2022)

[ghoulwithglasses]