Trials and tribulations? Don't fucking kid me, son, there are things far more insane that'd fuck up your life. Compared to these things, exams are child's play. Diseases are a walk in the fucking park. Deaths are just another occurrence that could be brushed away by having a good night's sleep.
Eargasm of the day: This part of the post is now bumped up because Rape. Rape, Rape, Rape. Enjoy some ambient music with your rape. Rape, rape, rape.
*
I honestly thought I was quite a patient person. I don't mind waiting in line for an hour or so, I'm quite tolerant and so on and so forth. But these past few days have been enlightening in a way that... I could not comprehend. Perhaps patience lie far, far deeper than what we have defined it as. Things like:
1. The Soul Arbiter's Maze.
In Darksiders 2, you control the persona Death who's on a quest of vengeance due to his brother's (War from Darksiders 1) unjust imprisonment. Well. Easy enough really, considering that all you do is destroy everything in your path. The game itself is quite awesome and has high pant-wetting capabilities but then there's 273 collectibles in the game and if you're a person like me who feels as if the Father has forsaken me when I cannot find the last of these 273 fuckers, It becomes a painful and depressing chore. But then there's a place called the Soul Arbiter Maze, an optional dungeon.
The maze has ten levels. Each level has a specific coordinate that's found scattered around the world. Not having these coordinates means that you'll be stuck in the maze, forever. Or at least until you punch the monitor and go on a local killing spree out of sheer frustration. I digress.
Say you manage to actually collect all twenty (Each level has two possible coordinates; one to venture deeper into the maze and the other to get some fucking loot) coordinates. So you mount your awesome horse; Despair and you head to the dungeon. Upon entering it, you're hit with a sudden realisation. Say the coordinate is "North - South - West". Before you go north, you have to fight a random amount of demonic cunts. After you go north, you fight more demonic cunts. And so on and so forth. But oh, did you take a wrong turn. Oh nevermind. Start over and fight more demonic cunts. Yes. Do so until you surrender your soul to Yog Sothoth.
Oh and there are no potions at all in the whole. Fucking. Maze. Non. And you're only allowed to carry five at the most. So, unless you enter with a weapon that could siphon enemy lifeforce into your own, you're quite simply, fucked. As you go deeper, it gets harder (Obviously) and the coordinates become fucking ridiculous.
But nay, you're better than that. You've passed the tenth circle of hell and now onwards you ride towards freedom. Fuck that. Here's a boss fight. A guy that carries a mace made of lightning and he's hellbent on killing you.
Have fun.
Level of patience needed: Waiting in line to go the the loo while having a bladder close to bursting. Line's not moving, due to a couple of ingrate high-schoolers making the toilet their hang out spot.
2. Try to fuck Zone-Tan. (NSFW. NSFW. NSFW.)
I need to make myself clear on this.
I realise that I need to omit the pictures but for anybody curious enough (Or masochistic enough to go through the hell which is Zone-Tan) here is the link: Abandon all hope.
Unfortunately for me, I'm open to a lot of things (Especially when it constitutes women. Whom you can proceed to undress and then ravage. *Cough*) so I somewhat excitedly tried out this "Game". Beforehand, I had heard about how this 'Game' had taken the souls of many, many men. I've heard people try it out, seek help and upon being ignored, resorted to domestic violence due to the inability to actually complete the game. So what is this 'Game', you ask?
You're a hand. An obviously male hand, because, well, you have a clearly erect telephone pole down there. Anyway, in front of you lies a well, a female (I cannot exactly say how old, but I'm pretty sure it's legal) who's dressed and your objective is to remove all those pesky clothes and then proceed to give her the gift of an orgasm.
Why, that doesn't sound dirty, perverted or difficult at all! In fact, why don't I try it right away.
Yes. Do that. Fall into the same damned trap.
It sounds simple. Too simple. So, okay, you have to move the damned limbs (Whatever are they for, you wonder...) away so that everything can be smoothly removed. But wait. Why is it so hard to move her leg? Must be my imagination. Let me try that again. Hng, fucking hand, what are you made of, oil?! Again, just *exhale* lets not panic. I mean, just look at her, she's clearly waiting. Ah-ha, so one leg is moved. Now for the next one.
Then the succubus raises her virtual hands, put all her limbs back into ultra-lock position and you're rendered helpless. Like a fucking dumb fuck that has no motor skills whatsofuckingever. Try again. That's all you can do. Try again. Do so until your eyes water and you remember how it felt being rejected due to your inadequacy; your bad looks, your bad social skills...
Enough with that guy. Say another guy (Or girl. Apparently people go batshit insane nowadays if you forget to say that a woman may as well do whatever a guy does.) manages to remove everything and presumably set fire to it. Then he's struck with a conundrum. What do I do now? Uh, well... Let me just touch her, what harm is there to it, eh? Fool of a human, she just rejected you and gone into mega-lock mode. Try again. Okay, I'm a bit pissed off but I'll try it again. Done, so what do I do? Tsk, tsk, you're taking too long, she just rearranged her limbs.
The most fucked up thing is that these things are supposed to be simple. Fast, instant, pleasurable but not to that (You know what I'm talking about) extent. Kind of like a snack before a meal. And you're conditioned to that. You're conditioned for pornographic games to be so damned easy but when this thing comes along, it hits you with the force of a million rape kamehamehas. You feel stupid and clumsy and frustrated.
Okay. So you finally figured out how to put it in. Now there's a meter beside you that show's how you're the model patient for premature ejaculation anonymous. This is probably where you smile, feel your mind dissolve, feel darkness replace it and kill everything in a kilometer radius.
The reward for winning? A red congratulations.
I quote a guy who won the game after four days of trying: "... It would be fun if I had a buzzsaw with me."
Patience level: Having the guy who killed your whole family in cold blood strapped to a chair in front of you and you have the composure or not impaling him on a red hot skewer. Or, you know, you really don't have anything to do.
3. The infamous QWOP
I find it hard to believe if a person told me they have no idea what QWOP is. But anyway.
QWOP is a game developed by highly trained demons whose lives are fueled by abandoned hopes and endless rage. And QWOP does exactly that.
You're an athlete who probably got his name mixed up and is participating in the Olympics instead of the Paralympics. Your joints are made of, well, nothing and you're tasked with controlling the lower limbs with nothing more than four alphabets that is Q, W, O and P, if you haven't figured it out already.You have to 'run' a hundred meters. And you will definitely fail. Why? Because fuck you, that's why.
Patience level: Allowing yourself to be raped by a cave troll.
4. Reading my Facebook newsfeed nowadays.
When it comes to facebook, it's all about an outlet to me. An outlet to post stories and photos and all that. And it feeds my galactic ego and narcissism because having the option of deleting people at a click of the button is all the virtual pornography I need (This, of course, is debatable). But lately... Lately for some reason I've been paying attention. I thought that okay, I have about 300+ people on this damned thing, let's see how many are intelligent.
Under no circumstances do I consider myself intelligent. I consider myself stupid, actually, there's a lot of shit I don't know but one thing that I do know is what intelligence is and I saw none of it.
It's a non-stop array of shit. 9GAG posts I can tolerate (Because I can't see what the fuck it is in the thumbnail), I grit my teeth in distaste at sappy, faggy, beta-ass statuses (Mainly because of the option of hiding them) but what I cannot tolerate is these:
Sure, I might be overreacting. But then when one posts these, one must expect that a person like me would go ahead and comment the stuff I captioned above, for example. But noooo, sarcasm is non-existent on facebook and I leave with the knowledge that I'm a horrible, horrible person (Not that I'm not).
And then I see how fucked up my generation is. Every fucking time I open facebook, I'm blasted away by the amount of insignificance that is our generation. There are no educated scribbles, fuck, general knowledge is an extinct entity. What the fuck happened? Now it's all about 'Oh that bitch did this' or 'Please like to save a million lives' or 'I unfriended you cause you did something that's ridiculous' or 'YOLOYOLO SWAG NIGGA WICKED BITCH #PARTY #YOLO #FUCKME'. Am I the only one seeing this shit or are the people who add me just plain fucking shallow?
So I tried adding people who, I deemed smart (And more often than not, gorgeous). This too proved to backfire because not only have I degraded myself by actually adding people and pretending to offer friendship when all I'm interested in is having an intellectual conversation, I have also ensnared myself in some other fuck's daddy/boyfie/self-esteem problem. I quote: "I tell you these things because you look like you have a kind soul," (Grammatically improved and rearranged for the good of viewers' eyes). Yeah. Fuck you.
So why don't I leave Facebook if it's so bad? Because even through all these fucked up shit, I do occasionally stumble upon brilliant gems discovered by brilliant people. And this is enough to give me a sliver of hope. That is, until I ram face first into the next idiotic post.
Eargasm of the day: This part of the post is now bumped up because Rape. Rape, Rape, Rape. Enjoy some ambient music with your rape. Rape, rape, rape.
*
I honestly thought I was quite a patient person. I don't mind waiting in line for an hour or so, I'm quite tolerant and so on and so forth. But these past few days have been enlightening in a way that... I could not comprehend. Perhaps patience lie far, far deeper than what we have defined it as. Things like:
1. The Soul Arbiter's Maze.
 |
| Oh God, no. |
The maze has ten levels. Each level has a specific coordinate that's found scattered around the world. Not having these coordinates means that you'll be stuck in the maze, forever. Or at least until you punch the monitor and go on a local killing spree out of sheer frustration. I digress.
Say you manage to actually collect all twenty (Each level has two possible coordinates; one to venture deeper into the maze and the other to get some fucking loot) coordinates. So you mount your awesome horse; Despair and you head to the dungeon. Upon entering it, you're hit with a sudden realisation. Say the coordinate is "North - South - West". Before you go north, you have to fight a random amount of demonic cunts. After you go north, you fight more demonic cunts. And so on and so forth. But oh, did you take a wrong turn. Oh nevermind. Start over and fight more demonic cunts. Yes. Do so until you surrender your soul to Yog Sothoth.
Oh and there are no potions at all in the whole. Fucking. Maze. Non. And you're only allowed to carry five at the most. So, unless you enter with a weapon that could siphon enemy lifeforce into your own, you're quite simply, fucked. As you go deeper, it gets harder (Obviously) and the coordinates become fucking ridiculous.
But nay, you're better than that. You've passed the tenth circle of hell and now onwards you ride towards freedom. Fuck that. Here's a boss fight. A guy that carries a mace made of lightning and he's hellbent on killing you.
Have fun.
Level of patience needed: Waiting in line to go the the loo while having a bladder close to bursting. Line's not moving, due to a couple of ingrate high-schoolers making the toilet their hang out spot.
2. Try to fuck Zone-Tan. (NSFW. NSFW. NSFW.)
I need to make myself clear on this.
 |
| For dumbfucks: Not safe for work. Or possibly life. |
Unfortunately for me, I'm open to a lot of things (Especially when it constitutes women. Whom you can proceed to undress and then ravage. *Cough*) so I somewhat excitedly tried out this "Game". Beforehand, I had heard about how this 'Game' had taken the souls of many, many men. I've heard people try it out, seek help and upon being ignored, resorted to domestic violence due to the inability to actually complete the game. So what is this 'Game', you ask?
You're a hand. An obviously male hand, because, well, you have a clearly erect telephone pole down there. Anyway, in front of you lies a well, a female (I cannot exactly say how old, but I'm pretty sure it's legal) who's dressed and your objective is to remove all those pesky clothes and then proceed to give her the gift of an orgasm.
Why, that doesn't sound dirty, perverted or difficult at all! In fact, why don't I try it right away.
Yes. Do that. Fall into the same damned trap.
It sounds simple. Too simple. So, okay, you have to move the damned limbs (Whatever are they for, you wonder...) away so that everything can be smoothly removed. But wait. Why is it so hard to move her leg? Must be my imagination. Let me try that again. Hng, fucking hand, what are you made of, oil?! Again, just *exhale* lets not panic. I mean, just look at her, she's clearly waiting. Ah-ha, so one leg is moved. Now for the next one.
Then the succubus raises her virtual hands, put all her limbs back into ultra-lock position and you're rendered helpless. Like a fucking dumb fuck that has no motor skills whatsofuckingever. Try again. That's all you can do. Try again. Do so until your eyes water and you remember how it felt being rejected due to your inadequacy; your bad looks, your bad social skills...
Enough with that guy. Say another guy (Or girl. Apparently people go batshit insane nowadays if you forget to say that a woman may as well do whatever a guy does.) manages to remove everything and presumably set fire to it. Then he's struck with a conundrum. What do I do now? Uh, well... Let me just touch her, what harm is there to it, eh? Fool of a human, she just rejected you and gone into mega-lock mode. Try again. Okay, I'm a bit pissed off but I'll try it again. Done, so what do I do? Tsk, tsk, you're taking too long, she just rearranged her limbs.
The most fucked up thing is that these things are supposed to be simple. Fast, instant, pleasurable but not to that (You know what I'm talking about) extent. Kind of like a snack before a meal. And you're conditioned to that. You're conditioned for pornographic games to be so damned easy but when this thing comes along, it hits you with the force of a million rape kamehamehas. You feel stupid and clumsy and frustrated.
Okay. So you finally figured out how to put it in. Now there's a meter beside you that show's how you're the model patient for premature ejaculation anonymous. This is probably where you smile, feel your mind dissolve, feel darkness replace it and kill everything in a kilometer radius.
The reward for winning? A red congratulations.
I quote a guy who won the game after four days of trying: "... It would be fun if I had a buzzsaw with me."
Patience level: Having the guy who killed your whole family in cold blood strapped to a chair in front of you and you have the composure or not impaling him on a red hot skewer. Or, you know, you really don't have anything to do.
3. The infamous QWOP
I find it hard to believe if a person told me they have no idea what QWOP is. But anyway.
QWOP is a game developed by highly trained demons whose lives are fueled by abandoned hopes and endless rage. And QWOP does exactly that.
You're an athlete who probably got his name mixed up and is participating in the Olympics instead of the Paralympics. Your joints are made of, well, nothing and you're tasked with controlling the lower limbs with nothing more than four alphabets that is Q, W, O and P, if you haven't figured it out already.You have to 'run' a hundred meters. And you will definitely fail. Why? Because fuck you, that's why.
Patience level: Allowing yourself to be raped by a cave troll.
4. Reading my Facebook newsfeed nowadays.
When it comes to facebook, it's all about an outlet to me. An outlet to post stories and photos and all that. And it feeds my galactic ego and narcissism because having the option of deleting people at a click of the button is all the virtual pornography I need (This, of course, is debatable). But lately... Lately for some reason I've been paying attention. I thought that okay, I have about 300+ people on this damned thing, let's see how many are intelligent.
 |
| >Mfw |
It's a non-stop array of shit. 9GAG posts I can tolerate (Because I can't see what the fuck it is in the thumbnail), I grit my teeth in distaste at sappy, faggy, beta-ass statuses (Mainly because of the option of hiding them) but what I cannot tolerate is these:
 |
| Really? I thought it was called suicide. |
 |
| Today I learned that the female race has Eidetic memory. |
 |
| I've never watched porn is a man's, then. |
And then I see how fucked up my generation is. Every fucking time I open facebook, I'm blasted away by the amount of insignificance that is our generation. There are no educated scribbles, fuck, general knowledge is an extinct entity. What the fuck happened? Now it's all about 'Oh that bitch did this' or 'Please like to save a million lives' or 'I unfriended you cause you did something that's ridiculous' or 'YOLOYOLO SWAG NIGGA WICKED BITCH #PARTY #YOLO #FUCKME'. Am I the only one seeing this shit or are the people who add me just plain fucking shallow?
So I tried adding people who, I deemed smart (And more often than not, gorgeous). This too proved to backfire because not only have I degraded myself by actually adding people and pretending to offer friendship when all I'm interested in is having an intellectual conversation, I have also ensnared myself in some other fuck's daddy/boyfie/self-esteem problem. I quote: "I tell you these things because you look like you have a kind soul," (Grammatically improved and rearranged for the good of viewers' eyes). Yeah. Fuck you.
So why don't I leave Facebook if it's so bad? Because even through all these fucked up shit, I do occasionally stumble upon brilliant gems discovered by brilliant people. And this is enough to give me a sliver of hope. That is, until I ram face first into the next idiotic post.
 |
| Patience level: |
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