Happy End of the Year, you beautiful, beautiful readers! All five of you, thanks for stopping in and make weird faces reading my bull here. Seriously, it means a lot to me to have someone reading all of this, especially during the final days of 2013, with final exams, deadlines, and that last bit of Meth to cook (I miss you, Heisenberg), everyone has got shit to do. This time of year is always quite stressful, rough, and drives some people to point of insanity. And I'm definitely no different; between school and all of my naked polka dancing lessons, I definitely have things I should be doing. Should. Keyword there. The problem is, I don't want. Or rather: I don't wannnnnaaaaaaa. You can't make me. It's always moments like this when I like to lace up my boots, stand tall, and find anything else in the world to distract me from my responsibilities. Because America.
Thank the caramel-centered heavens, then, when that gorgeous bastard Paul, keeper of the Shaqs that are Sodas, stepped in and introduced to me a little website called candybox2.net. Upon the initial utterance of its name, I had no clue what the fuck to think. Candy box? Like a box of candy? He wouldn't explain, that lovely smelling son-of-a-bitch. He simply said "check that shit," then flew off. Okay, he didn't say that, but that's usually the only words I hear when people open their mouths. So I checked that shit, and I was introduced to this:
Closed all the porn tabs for you guys. You're welcome.
A blank screen. Thanks, asshole. But wait, what's this?
Whasat? What's goin' on? I have candy? Or rather, candies, and I can eat them? Well, hell yeah. I love candy, my sweet tooth is as big as your mom. I wanna do that.
So there. Candy eaten. And now I can throw that shit on the ground too, which seems weird, but okay. So what? Well as time goes on, you continue to collect candy every second, and you can eat more candy until suddenly, you can... well, create other shit. So weird. Suddenly:
I have a map, an inventory, and a fucking health bar. Where the hell is this going? No, fuck that paper due in two hours, I've got a HEALTH BAR. Tell my boss, who DOESN'T have a health bar to clean his own goddamn car in a bikini or whatever. Who needs money when I got a map? They were basically currency when people got bored of milking cows or getting the plague and decided to see the world. So, boom, map.
Cue the Game of Thrones music.
Text-based Lord of the Rings, kids. Looks better and more interesting than the first Hobbit movie (yeah, I fucking went there). What's in those woods made of hashtags? And is that castle? HELL YES IT'S A CASTLE. Soooooo much to explore. And yes, I'm overly fascinated by this random website. No, I haven't taken my meds today, why do you ask? It's addictive.
After a while, with more and more candy comes more and more shit to click on, it gets to the point that you forget about drying the dog, or walking the laundry. Who needs that shit when you can buy weapons from a blacksmith made from symbols off a QWERTY keyboard?
ADVENTURE, MOTHAFUCKAS!!!
So check it out here. Come on, you know you wanna. Put down that business report, walk away from that test. Who needs to know things like "physics" or earn things like "money?" Pft, please. Real life is for suckers and successful people, and you don't want to be that, do you? Do you? DO YOU? I mean, come on look at me, I'm doing it, and TOTALLY NOT ADDICTED.
Okay, maybe a slight addiction...
And now, here's a kid who can't say blood correctly.
Yeah, I need help.
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