🎲 BOARD GAMES ARE PUNK AS HELL

An Unapologetically Loud Rant About Making the Perfect Game

Step 1: Smash the Blueprint.
Game design? It ain’t spreadsheets and suits. It’s art in the form of cardboard, dice, and betrayal. You start with chaos—an idea scribbled on a pizza box during band practice or shouted across a bar table—and from that storm, you chisel something playable. Making a board game isn’t polite. It’s a riot of sticky notes, broken balance, and cursed tokens that accidentally summon fun. Embrace the mess. Burn the rulebook (but then rewrite it, carefully).

Step 2: Find Your Core Loop (And Give It Teeth).
Every good game needs a thing—that thing—that keeps you coming back. Not just “draw a card, play a card.” We’re talking tension, drama, and just enough chaos to feel like you're riding a shopping trolley down a hill. Maybe you’re flicking penguins off a rooftop. Maybe you're accusing your best mate of witchcraft. If the main loop doesn’t slap, the game’s DOA. You want moves that feel so good players cackle when they pull them off.

Step 3: Theme + Mechanics = Punk and Purpose.
Theme without mechanics? That’s just cosplay. Mechanics without theme? Boring math homework. But jam them together like a Molotov cocktail? That’s where the magic hits. Whether it’s post-apocalyptic raccoons fighting over trash or Victorian detectives chasing supernatural rats, the best games bleed vibe. You should feel the story in the rules. If your meeples are marching, we better know what they're fighting for.

Step 4: Playtest Until It Hurts (and Then Playtest Again).
Here's where most game ideas die: under the boot of reality. That genius mechanic? Yeah, it breaks in round two. The epic narrative? Players skipped it to fight over potato tokens. You’ll need thick skin and a punk’s resilience. Listen to your testers. Ignore your pride. Kill your darlings (not literally, unless your game’s about that). Every “This sucks” you hear is one step closer to “Holy crap, this rules.”

Step 5: The Perfect Game Is Gloriously Imperfect.
Look, punk rock was never about perfection. It’s about impact. Energy. Truth. The perfect board game isn’t sterile and balanced down to the nanosecond. It’s raw. It feels. It sparks arguments, unearths laughter, and lives rent-free in your brain long after the pieces are packed away. If your game makes players shout, plot, and maybe storm out once or twice? You’re not just making a game—you’re starting a revolution.

“Design like no one’s watching. Playtest like everyone’s judging. Print it like you stole the copier.”