To My Sweet N64,

I guess the best way I could start this off is by saying thank you. Thank you for being the best part about finishing my elementary school homework. Thank you for the days playing Wave Racer on the floor with my dad because it was the only game he could beat me at. Thank you for 2-player mode in Star Fox. I'll even thank you for the endless shaming I received every time my older brother absolutely destroyed me in Goldeneye. I might be alone on this one, but to anyone else that feels me here, thank you for Clay Fighters. Thank you for letting me use cheat codes to turn into Raiden in NFL Blitz. Thank you for fueling the countless matches of Super Smash Bros., which have only become increasingly more intense over the years. Few things are as crucial as being able to defend and uphold your reputation at Smash (as long as you're playing on Corneria or Hyrule Temple), considering it's the only real determinant of skill in anything, ever.

You are the single most nostalgia inducing machine in the lives of 90s kids everywhere. Even today, no apartment/fraternity house/dorm room is complete without an N64 to come back and hit the sticks after a long day. As I've grown, the potential to enjoy everything you have to offer has only grown, even more so now than as a child. This is probably because of the fact that nowadays it's seemingly impossible not to implement some sort of drinking element into every single game.

History was made on the day that some certifiable genius somewhere came up with the idea to change the name “Mario" to “Beerio" and opened up an entirely new world of possibilities. Any Beerio Kart veteran will tell you that you better not pass that finish line on the final lap with a drop left in your cup. I'd be lying if I said that there haven't been multiple nights where a night with the N64 has triumphed over going out. There's just no way to decline an invite from that one friend (Tim Hartman) that asks, “You trying to party?" but knowing full well that they're referring to a heated game of Beerio Party.

You weren't my first, and you won't be my last, but you'll always hold that special spot in my heart that no other console, past, present, or future, will truly be able to replace. Despite the fact that your controller looks like some sort of giant lego piece created for a three-handed creature, you've managed to stand the test of time. Your resilience knows no bounds. There may never again be a time where the words, “Just blow on it and reset it" will be given as a legitimate response on how to fix a piece of technology. There will always be a place for you on my living room floor until the day you spontaneously combust, which is highly unlikely since you're physically indestructible.