Every time I think I can sit back and take another break from the blog....it sucks me back in. It's like the worlds in Seinfeld....and no I wont explain them if you don't know about the worlds....I used to play online games, or just games in general well, too much. Now even before many more major responsibilities are to come crashing down on me...and not like looney toons I mean like utter splat powdered bone and intestinal juice crashin level shits, I just quit playing. Why? I don't know, maybe because I quite smoking some time ago, maybe because I finally got tired of the established you do this being dictated by some no dick never got pussy even if they paid for it fan bois that still live in the mom's basement. Maybe it was because people I know trying to epeen on a game that I was better at but didn't have enough time to spend my entire life on proving it.
Now I don't even care, though I do miss being able to enjoy not doing anything but playing a game accomplishing my goal and moving on. But those days seem long gone since people realized....retarded people will spend money and their entire lives on your game...even get married on it. I mean come the fuck on people you know that bitch you married? Its a dude with a beard and a fucking strap on, probably rubbing it on his own cock when your at the ceremony. Get real for fucks sake. I cant say I wont play another game, though I want something I can accomplish in at my own pace, like Diablo II. I could come in run twenty thousand bosses get some good shit and call it a day, or just not get on and be none the worse for wear. These other games? Don't log in one fucking day and your out the furry club or some shit. Maybe they make you take it up the ass from herpes mouth fungus dingleberry clown, I don't know. All i know is you see a detriment for taking a real world day and that shit's ridiculous. Go have a beer, have some sex, smoke a cigarette and look out at the horizon, don't drink a potion, marry a guy named Grover and look out at Dracula s castle from your flaming monkey mount. Put the mouse down, eat a vegetable, try something human not agoraphobic homage to xenophobia, whats your name Ridley Scott because a Prometheus you most fucking certainly are not. Just try it for once and see, I bet if you go to a bar talk shit to a bad bitch....or in most "Gamer's" cases any bitch...have her go home with you or...to mommies basement with you and I bet you feel better than slaying the big bad wolf for the eight thousandth time. That or get fucked cause your wasting my air breathing, so please eat more and die faster, we need the space.
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