I don't think I've laughed harder than at your disgusted outbursts against Jeff's WiiWare announcements. I've listened to every last episode of the Bombcast and Arrow Pointing Down, the vast majority multiple times. I've heard your voice more than anyone else's, very probably including my parents'. You were a stellar entertainer, because you weren't being an entertainer. You were being yourself, and your total mastering of entertainment enabled you to let your hilarious, lovable self shine through everything you did.

I never met you. I never saw you in person. I never even played you on TNT. You still managed to be one of my best friends. It was a one-sided friendship, but it was all you. You spent thousands upon thousands of hours to keep me informed, to keep me interested, to make me laugh. Sure, it was your job. Sure, you were doing this for several thousand other users also. That doesn't matter. You loved your job; you poured your heart into it. That's what made this place special and that's why we--I--felt like you would give us a bear hug and prompt us to gasping laughter if we ever met you face to face.

A forum thread showed up a while ago about the future of Giant Bomb, about what would happen when the Old Guard hung up their hats.

I roughly remembered my response but I looked it up.

"I doubt I'll care about Giant Bomb in a decade. Tastes change."

I imagined I would eventually walk away, leaving the Bombers as they worked in other directions. I never thought a Bomber would be the one to leave.

You were the best, Ryan. You've left a beautiful, indelible sweat stain on my life.

Now I really need a hug from my old pal Kenny, 'cause he's always reminded me a lot of you.