I love my PlayStation 3 -- a lot more than I really should. My curvy, delicious, Japanese piece of hardware likes it when I set the lights low, turn the stereo up and play with her all night long. There's something particularly special about her, see -- she doesn't get around much, and her milkshake doesn't need to bring the all boys to the yard. It's just me and her, and some great first-party software.

But, underneath her, on the lower shelf, sits my Xbox 360. The "other girl." She and I go way back, but she's recently been sleeping around being a floozy with just about anyone. Anybody and everybody loves to play with her; she's up for anything at any time. The unique, soft, sexy green stare only she gave me has now become a death glare of perversity and filth. She's now become "that girl."

Busting through my door with a green and white cape was Xbox 360's Director of Product Management, Aaron Greenberg himself. He greeted me with orchids and a box of delicious chocolates. Greenberg looked sad and upset; I haven't returned his phone calls in weeks. I quickly ran for my microphone and camera: he was there to win me back, and I was listening.

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