Virtual Insanity

I have one of those Play-Frustration things and, simplistically, it makes no fucking sense at all. There are too many buttons and the car doesn't do what I want it to do at all - stupid bastard thing.

In reality, I can drive anything that has wheels (and I have the official licenses to prove it) - in PFS (Play Fucking Station) world, I can't drive for shit.

"OK", I think and change the game to golf - the art of twatting a small ball into a small hole whilst wearing ridiculous trousers.

Same result.

In real life, I can twat a ball really hard, in the direction that I want (or, if frustrated enough, twat the person I want to). However, on this game thingy - I'm like Stevie Wonder on acid.

WTF? - What the fuck is that about then?

In 'gaming' world, you can be anything you want to. You can kick the shit out of some Alien mother-fuckers, beat Brazil at football with one leg tied behind your head, fly X-wing doofers at breakneck speed and..

In reality, it doesn't actually work that way.

Crashing a car fucking hurts. Getting your arse kicked hurts also and you cannot climb walls, jump across mighty crevaces or otherwise without the aid of class A drugs.

However, in a spiritual Gothic way, I offer the following 'gaming' releases:-

Learn a Language (especially your own)
Read Books (with words and everything)
Hate God (he started it)
Make Love Not War (some hippy shit, but makes sense I think)

Suggestion for the Gothic Play Fru-Station games?????

Crutching At Straws

So, after meeting my beloved for lunch at a local hostelry, I noticed something slightly untoward.

"Do you sell magic beer?" I asked the barman.

"Well, it's ok but I wouldn't call it magic.... why?" he inquired.

"I can understand when people leave, or forget umbrellas" I started to explain "Newspapers, glasses, hats and all sorts...."

"And your point is?" demanded the now confused barman

"If you look over there" I said, pointing in the direction of said articles "There are crutches. Now I can imagine why you might need them after a night on the piss, but to come in to a pub, drink a few alcoholic beverages and then forget you needed them ?!"

The barman started, what was going to be a phrase like "Fuck off you're taking the..." when he abruptly stopped and said "Bloody hell - you're right".

"It's like the Fugitive" I said "We need to be looking for a one-legged man" (except he was a one-armed man in the film, but the principle is the same, 'ish).

Somewhere in Bruxelles tomorrow, someone is going to jump out of bed and realise that they shouldn't have done that.

So what was the strangest thing you have encountered being left behind (and children don't count)..... ???