The (computer) Game of life

Life is like a computer game, you go through it, facing unrelenting enemies, taking short cuts, receiving power ups, getting better and beating challenges, or, if you are a bit simple, or from a council estate, Croydon or Mitcham, its a bit like a wii game, you will just spend your entire existence thrashing and jumping around without purpose to the annoyance of those around you.

 Super Mario World is a good example of real life for most people, for starters, the Cunt is supposed to be a plumber, in his many incarnations back to the 80's he has not done any plumbing work to speak of, he has spent most of his time wolfing down special mushrooms which make him feel "better" and chasing after women and getting into needless scraps. His entire life is just one one long holiday to Magaloof.

 In real life though, its never OK to wear a boiler suit and sport a Nigel Mansell moustache (despite how cool it would have been to watch Nigel Mansell press a button in his cockpit and dispatch a large string of bananas or a gift, that was actually a bomb which sends the car behind him spinning into the crowd killing hundreds!) In reality though, Nigel would have been arrested at the end of the race for the latter and given at least 8 years in prison under the prevention of terrorism act. It would jazz formula one up though, mind you anything would.

 Relationships-wise Mario mirrors real life, he runs frantically over terrain of varying difficulty to save a "princess" from the clutches of a larger built physically superior specimen, with, I expect a larger cock. We've all done this, trying desperately to keep our partners away from the better physical specimens while under the influence of drink or drugs (mushrooms) while searching for a hammer or something to use to set fire to the cunt. The comparisons to Mario stop when it comes to basic animal cruelty, if any of us where to go down to London Zoo, get into the tortoise enclosure and jump two footed down on the poor beasts, crushing them out of their shells, then grabbing their now empty shells, holding them above their head and throwing them onto other Tortoises, who were blatantly just going about their business and killing them too, it would generally be frowned upon, especially by woman, its no wonder the princess is not pro-active in her escape, who would want to go back to a man that is apparently out of work, addicted to hallucinogenic drugs and is cruel beyond belief to animals? Stay with Bowser love.

 Tetris compares to real life in several ways, number one, it emulates the utter futility of people in warehouse jobs, their very life a succession of boxes that need to be put into places, never ending, faster and endless until eventually it all gets too much, there is an accident, and someone dies.

 It also mirrors the commute to work, the crammed tube coming into the station to the Tetris music playing, and you have to judge the tiny spaces on the carriage and form one of the shapes and move around as quick as possible to fit into the slot, or sit awkwardly until you are physically man-handled.

 Computer games give us the means to put into action the long moments where we stare out of the window at work and day dream about other jobs/lives. I was once an incredibly successful black gang member in Grand Theft Auto - San Andreas. I ran entire neighbourhoods, had girlfriends, made regular trips to the gym, and had a healthy income stream and several houses. Meanwhile behind me, my real relationship was going to pot and talking of pots, I didn't have one to piss in. I realised I had been spending too long on the game when one day outside Baker Street station after a cancelled train, I gave serious thought to car jacking a Range Rover, just chuck the cunt out and drive off. It would be great in real life to have an energy bar and wanted level floating just above your head. It would make it easier to know who to pick on in life.

 I also won the European Championship 3 years running with Tottenham on Championship manager, I had essentially spent 2 years of my life starting at numbers and colours and suffering the artery hardening hair greying rage throwing stresses of football management. I would have been better off staring at ceefax with a candle up my arsehole.

 Power-ups - In games we are generally rewarded for achievements with trinkets that make us more powerful, in real life, these amount to the ego boost that we feel after ejaculating in, or over a girl who we once believed was out of our league (that doesn't include rape, thats just putting in a cheat code) Beating someone up and gaining extra respect. Wearing a cool pair of trainers and feeling better about yourself and life, and worst of all, going on professional development courses, day workshops, time management, where some dumpy cunt in an inline mic tells you how to prioritise your day, after them themselves turning up late to the seminar. All these things are designed to make us better at the game of life. When it comes to professional development courses I think it would be better if they were more like computer games, where, at the end of the seminar you get given a huge automatic firearm for 60 seconds with unlimited ammunition and can run around the conference centre shooting any and everyone.

 Computer games should mirror life more accurately, we have fucked ourselves and our kids up with our ability to do the undoable on games. What SHOULD happen is that you start the game with one life, when you get hit between the eyes with a 7.62mm bullet from an AK47 you don't respawn in a fucking filing cabinet in an office in war torn Russia, the XBOX scratches the disc to fuck and then explodes so you can never play that game again, not ever. One life, one chance.

This might help our generation of game addled hoody cunts who think nothing of putting a bread knife inside the chest cavity of some poor cunt who only moments earlier, felt powered up after sticking a sweet pair of Nike trainers on. And also, EA, and Rockstar games would be forced to produce a range of "real life" games, Such as Grand Thrift Auto (trader) in which you play Alan Greenford from Slough who is out looking for a new car and only has a budget of two grand, and in the game you have to travel to viewings and do test drives at 30mph. Or Activision would need to produce a game called Call of Djibouti in which you play a terrified farmer who has to save his family from drought and famine.

 I play Fifa soccer, and I put myself in the game, in the game I am slim, athletic and could play for any of the clubs and usually hold the entire team up, playing a part in most of the goals or assists. The sad reality is, that there is no stat in the game for which in real life I would achieve the 99 that I have given my virtual self, unless there was the attribute "Asthma" or "ability to eat cheese on toast". I may start again and put myself in the game with realistic attributes reflecting the truth. Acceleration - Never, Speed, 2, Stamina, 1, Shot Power 100, Shot accuracy, 0. I expect in the game, the virtual players would eventually turn on me and I would get shot by fans, like what happens in Columbia.

 Computer games do offer a release from real life and I expect in the future people will be coming home from work and shoving their frustrated dicks up something called an sexbox720, a fuck bot that is a whore in the kitchen and chef in the bedroom (?), living in a virtual gurning perma orgasmic bliss, no more periods, no more fucking moaning. And externalising of utter mundane needless shite, no more STD's and no more having to book nights in with the mates, bounding nutlessly into the pub and declaring "I've got a pass for the night!!"

 After about 2 months the above would get boring, the peace, bliss and endless mind blowing sex and eventually men would wish for real women back, missing the moaning, whining and general insignifica, men would hack the sexbox, installing an app to recreate the mundanity of most relationships, the unpredictabilty of your partners sexual needs, and the general smells and small irritations, men would miss it and yearn for it, realising that there is no thrill without the chase, the times when they have slipped out of their regimes and have legs like Chewbacca, the moaning, whining, insignifica, and all the FUCKING WHINING, EXTERNALISING AND MOANING.....

 Fuck you fuck bot. We love women, and I would never stick my cock inside a machine (again). Subnote: The above relationship testimonies bear no resemblance to any relationship I have ever been in and are fully based on what I hear from colleague and mates, any resemblance to a relationship I have been in is purely coincidental. (Oh, apart from that one bitch, who was like Hitler with tits and genuinely made me consider suicide).