If I am … the afterlife is totally lame. But that’s not the point. I’m actually here to apologize.
Give me a minute, this is harder than I thought.
Okay, here goes nothing:
Sorry I haven’t been around lately, I’ve been dealing with some really cheesed off strawberries.
I know that sounds like a really lame excuse, and there’s a reason for that. It is. But, you see, the real reason involves a medical issue, me not handling a medical issue well, being a shitty friend and adult, and just generally a lot of things I’m so not talking about online. So while I could tell you about my innards conspiring against me, I’m not going to.
I will tell you that lying around doing nothing and refusing to go on the internet except for to play King Games and read Fanfiction is not the way to handle a personal crisis. That’s so good advise based on my own life experiences right there.
I’m also going to tell you about the really ticked off fruit.
See, I’ve been playing Farm Heroes Saga. Do you play? Excellent. Friend me on Facebook so you can send me things and I can send them in return. Listen, I haven’t learned how to send gifts unless the pop up when the first load in prompts me to, okay?
If you don’t play Farm Heroes Saga. Start. Then friend me on Facebook so you can send me things and I can gift in return. Again, I still don’t know how to initiate gift giving.
Seriously though, if you’ve played, you know that at a certain level you get “Grumpy Fruit.” Or, you know, maybe you don’t know because you haven’t gotten to that level yet. I’m not gonna judge you, that ain’t what I’m about man. I’m just here to talk Grumpy Fruit.
See that pissed off carrot? First, even mad that sucker is still adorable. Kind of like my three year old, actually. Also like my three year old, when a fruit (or sun or water) becomes grumpy, it goes “humpf” and I just want to hug it. Not even kidding right now.
Especially since I then picture my kid crossing her arms, making the same noise, and then going “I’m mad.” Something she picked up from Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood. (Something else that should be on your radar, just sayin’)
Where was I going with this?
Oh yeah … well that pissed off carrot, when paired with other carrots, will contaminate them. Ticking them off as well and making you lose any credit for the match. It also alerts my three year old that I’m playing Farm Heroes Saga and she will instantly drop whatever else she’s doing and climb up on my lap to “help.” Which is code for “use all your bosters.”
Even if she’s eating cake.
Which also means she gets cake fingers all over the spot on your table where your active booster used to be, and is now greyed out because ah fuck she just used the dog to round up all the carrots and you’re not even supposed to be collecting carrots this time.
She does this with Candy Crush too.
And forget about Papa Pear Saga. She doesn’t even have to use the boosters here, folks, she just shoots off all your pinballs randomly until you’ve managed to “eat all the carrots, I like carrots” and you want to slap her but damn it how can you when she’s so proud of herself and admitted to liking vegetables?
Plus she’s three, and I’m pretty sure slapping a three year old for playing your stupid King game is a no-no.
This brings me to the real point of this post. I know you thought it was a lame story to cover for my being gone, or an advert for King Games, but it’s not. It’s a cautionary tale.
Don’t let my kid anywhere near you while you’re playing King Games. She will make the worst moves possible while blowing all your hard earned boosts. So basically, if you want to play King Games you should probably lock yourself in the bathroom. You have to lock it, she’s learned how handles work. And if she knocks, she’s going to ask if you’re pooping. Just say yes, it’s easier for everyone that way.
Also, remind me to tell you about the time I convinced her that daddy was pooping on the stairs when she needed something from him after bed time and he’d run to the store.
Oh that story never fails to make me laugh.
Okay, I’m going to be totally honest with you right now, because I wouldn’t feel right leaving this post like this. You probably just better don’t (and yes, I know that’s bad grammar) play King Games. They’re sort of addictive and I’ve spent over $20 on boosts for a game where I match fruit just so I can watch a dog run across the screen when I did good.
I’m not proud.
I know you were expecting me to end it by talking about that mysterious illness (which isn’t fatal, or even that bad in the grand scheme of things) but I’m not. I’m also not going to end this post by saying that I’m now back and better than ever. I know myself better than that. It’s going to take than wishing it was so to break myself out of my self-pity fest. Plus I can’t actually walk in my room thanks to the mess. I know you’re wondering why Phin didn’t take care of it while I was busy being a douche, but I’m sort of a minor control freak (stop laughing Phin) and I’d remove bits of him if touched things without being told where to put them.
I really wish I was joking.
What I will ask is that you please just put up with my shit for just a little longer. I promise, I’m worth it.