the life of zooey who happens to be Bipolar 2
I grind, er, play MMOs quite frequently. I like their 3-person viewpoint over first person shooters. I can actually relax and NOT think about work or worries when I am online playing. It’s great stress relief to triumph over foes, no matter how electronic they are.
One of my main games is World of Warcraft. As we wait for the next expansion to drop, hardcore MMO players will level up more characters. Often folks I play with will start playing on another server, perhaps even another faction. One day, a good friend was leveling on another server, so I switched over to join him.
Imagine to my surprise when I saw this guy hanging out on that server. Arm-pit-hair. A roguish back-stabber of a man with Popeye forearms wielding dull knives. What. The. Hell.
I swear I hadn’t even logged into this server. But there was Armpithair, proof my account actually had. Stan finally did admit that one night after some PVP and beer, he ‘may’ have randomly created characters for me to find on servers in Warcraft. Nice, hon. Armpithair became my annoying mascot. No matter what character I logged from, Armpithair was my default. He looked at me, sulking at level 1. Dressed in rags of old man pants. His vest looked like he’d already been roughed up by a spider or rabid bear.
I knew if he raised a beefy arm, his stinky namesake arm pit hair, thick as underbrush, would shout to the world. It is probably only tamed by tucking it under his arm bands.
I’ve let him stew at level 1. Sorry bud, you are doomed to the Elwynn Forest, sitting next to the first quest giver.
You are a mascot, nothing more.
Armpithair, seriously, Stan? Well at least it wasn’t Wankerwacker.