There was once a time in my life where all I did was what other people considered nothing. The truth is, we can’t possibly go through life without purpose or an activity. So while other people would say, “he just plays games all day. he doesn’t do much,” I would say different.

Very much different.

I was the leader of a rather large and active guild in the World of Warcraft. Such a boast would normally trigger no double takes or looks of surprise in the real world. Usually people pity or just laugh. But to me and my army of virtual soldiers, it was nothing to scoff at.

So what does the leader of a rather large and active guild do? Well, not much. I woke up every day early, sleep deprived, and malnourished to log on and play. My girlfriend and I would sit there for what most people would consider plenty of time to be at a job.

It was a fun year or so. Doing nothing. I had light semesters during school, but no job. But essentially, I was a bum.

Then something clicked.

I went out into the real world. Wanting a break from it all. School, games, everything. I found myself a job.

People no longer pitied me. No one laughed at me. I was a working man. One of them. I was certainly more socially acceptable, but it didn’t feel much different. I sat there everyday and just ground my day out. Came home, went to bed, and repeated it the next morning.

So now, here I am.

Sitting here.

In the real world.

I’m still here, trying to make something of myself.

And to my dismay, I find myself, once again, wanting a break from it all.

I decided I would purchase a more masculine body wash at the market today. This decision was greatly attributed to my reading the words “Dermatologist Tested - Women Approved” on my previous brand.

I picked up a bottle of Axe body wash. And if you’ve seen the commercials, you also know that this turns unsightly men into sexual masterminds. I had originally decided to abstain from this stuff to give the rest of male-kind a fighting chance.

But now that I’ve spent my $4.99, well… let’s just say this is the warning.

Throughout the entire movie, they have this little counter that reads like this:

Days Without Incident: 158

If they ever made a movie about me metamorphosing into a raging, wild monster, it would probably look like this:

The game is pretty simple. On a pure physical attraction level, rate the girl from a 1 to 10. Pretty much anything 7 and up signifies a person we’d like to spend the evening discussing current events to and cuddling with.

It gets complicated when we start picking girls to date. The numbers get fuzzy and other things become a factor. So, I’ve compiled a list of what constitutes bonus points.

• Smart - The opposite is stupid. And frankly, stupid chicks suck (like, the bad kind of suck). [+1 point]
• Plays video games - This is almost cheating for girls. Being able to spend an evening blowing things up as oppose to watching The Notebook is always super awesome. Girl gamers can easily stick themselves in a higher tier. [+2 points]
• Has a boyfriend - Some people attribute it to the forbidden fruit syndrome; I think its just because prettier girls have boyfriends already. And although they may cause me to subconsciously rate higher on a physical attraction level, these girls are a no go. [-4 points]
• Has a boyfriend, but he used to pick on me when we were in middle school - Bitch. [+3 points]
• Plays guitar, is half Japanese, and sings amazingly - [+2,905,624,760,912,574 points]

All that being said, this chick is a 2,905,624,760,912,584.

Me

I get in my car everyday after my hour long work out at eight. The radio is on loud, because I like to drown out my thoughts from a long day’s work. It’s now nine at night, the same time I’m done everyday. The top 10 is on the local radio again and the same song has been in the tenth slot for two weeks now. I hate this song, but I’m too lazy to change it. I roll down my windows, because it’s hot and the wind feels nice.

The World

It’s the same story with that guy. He comes in, works out for an hour, then leaves everyday at about nine. He gets in his car, blasts his stereo, and rolls down the windows. And I swear to God, everyday for the last two weeks, he’s been listening to 7 Things by Miley Cyrus. Seriously. That guy is such a fag.

Today (well, last night) was sparring in Tae Kwon Do and as luck would have it, I would be paired to fight the kid who remembered to drink milk everyday for the last 19 years of his life. Thirty seconds in, I throw a kick into his fucking knee and now I can’t walk anywhere without looking like a retarded pirate.

I guess it didn’t help that I repeatedly threw kicks at him, but seriously, I was wearing all the necessary protective gear and everything…or so I thought.

1. Protective head gear
2. Protective chest gear
3. Protective shin/feet gear <- this fails
4. Protective arm gear
5. Cup <- this better never fucking fail
6. Surgically implanted adamantite exoskeleton <- ah, that’s what I forgot

And by the way, this is the same foot I decided to use to kick a tree, with my bare foot, just a few weeks prior. In case anyone is wondering, my foot was not stronger than that tree by any means.