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BFBC2 Multiplayer: You're all assholes and I hope you die.


I really wish that there were more disclaimers. Sure, I want to believe that I'm not naive, but trust me that's naive too, and what I generally assume about people and their behavior while gaming is either far too charitable, or more likely stupider than they are. So I really need to scale back my expectations and assume that people are either not interested in playing a game the way I would like to play, or vice versa. Does that make them horrible, or make them think that I am horrible? The verdict isn't yet in, and honestly I couldn't tell you who is on trial, but I can tell you that a few more disclaimers telling me what I should expect instead of running on my own would certainly be nice. Heads up, retard.

A few inches down there is a rant that I started on at about 9am this morning, which was three or so hours after I woke up and two after I had seven cups of coffee and mainlined some peach flavored Draino. Some people would have had bacon or read the newspaper, but due to a shortage on both I decided to play martyr and take up slack elsewhere. Someone has to deal with the world's Draino surplus, right? I'm glad that we're agreed on this.

Where was I?

Something about video games and how I hate playing them with other people, but can't stop myself from it, right?


What are the EXACT goals for me, you, your mom when they play an online shooter? That might vary, but let's assume that all of them have a goal and it is their damnedest need to accomplish it. One guy wants to kill the most folks, another wants to not get killed, some other guy wants to cheap shot people until they are irritated enough to send them hate-filled text messages, and then there is ME. I want to win by the game's objectives. Call me odd or antiquated, but when my TV displays the word "YOUR TEAM WON" after a match, it's a better feeling than anything else because essentially it's the game telling me that my team, of course, I read not as my team, but rather as ME ME ME ME MEEEEEEE, has played the game correctly, and not such much my opponent. It's petty, but it's a game, and games are petty. Fuck you.

Along the way to "winning", I've got all sorts things to do. The least of which is to expect "my" team to cooperate on "winning". We have headsets to coordinate team play, class roles with diverse battle tactics, and a monkey on our backs telling us all to be better than the next guy, even if the next guy is our own teammate and the best player in the game. Needless to say, if you're not engaging in a pissing contest while playing the game, then you're probably doing it wrong, or you're better than me... again, fuck you.

Perhaps I have to much caffeine in my system or my temper is a bit too short, but for the life of me I can't help from getting angry while playing multiplayer games. Lately it's been churning up my pissy, girl bile, and making my neighbors pound on their ceiling with a broom around midnight. Fuck them though, they're negatively affecting my gaming. I fucking know it. They're conspiring with these assholes on my team to make ME lose.

Yes, that is a fucking capital me. I am fucking capital because if anything I am, or you if you're dumb enough to empathize with ME, regardless of any matchmaking or squad pairings completely self-involved by my own concept of gameplay, whether it is to win by game decision or statistical performance. So I am running into walls of gunfire to meet objectives that apparently aren't too interesting to the seven of twelve teammates lackadaisically playing Recon from the edges of the map with no intention beyond picking off someone who happens to be going to somewhere to do something outside of their shitty, fucking, 90 degree, myopic, assfucking, field of view.

I mad, bro? You bet your fucking ass I am mad. I didn't choose to play an squad based play mode with set objectives to run into functional teams while my own has decided that individually they are all Vassili Fucking Zaitsev, so if spawn on top of you while you're camping and happen to C4 your sniping spot or lay a tracer dart on your shag-carpetted head, don't think I am doing it because I am a jerk. That's only part of it. I am doing it because you are actively making me lose. ME! ME! ME!


I'm sorry if you read any of the above. There's a reason most people play in a party with their friends, or without their headsets at all. It's angry, obnoxious people like me. Ok, that's a little off. I usually play with my headset off because I think it's extremely discourteous to subject strangers to my anger, not that I managed to turn that corner here, but what do you want. You read this blog, you stupid bastard.
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About falsenippleone of us since 7:51 PM on 04.15.2010

I can't think of a good reason why I blog here, and honestly I think its only because I lack the self-control not to. In the past I have wasted way too much time socializing online simply because I liked the anonymity and all the stupid trolling that entailed.

Of course, this is a different place, you're all respectable people, and I am an adult who has grown into his three inch penis and the inferiority complex that accompanies it.

Hi, my name is J/Jordan/falsenipple, but you can call me whatever you like, or summarily ignore me if that better suits your fancy. I'm nearing on being old enough to be dead, from Chicago, and have been gaming since I was 6, which was awhile ago.

I have yet to mature since then, nor have I become skilled enough to beat Megaman 2, although it hasn't stopped me from soundly losing until I have won every other game.

None of the previously mentioned things actually mean much to me though. Frankly, as any good troll is, I am more interested in other people, which is why I don't talk about myself too often. I've got a mouthful of feet and a throat full of Achilles' heels. So making this introduction is more than awkward for me.

Most of the time I just stalk people around until they assume that I'm their friend, or a friend of their friend, who unassumingly has been shadowing the lot of them and pocketing scraps of their hair to make dolls out of.

Forget that you read that last bit. Also forget that I've ended multiple sentences with propositions. The devil made me do it.

I guess I should keep at whatever it is I am doing here.



1. Are you a gamer?

No, but I've passed the Turing Test, so I can't rightfully be called a game anymore.

2. What?

Just go with it.

3. Seriously?


4. Are you going to continue asking yourself questions in the third person?

I didn't ask for schizophrenia, but I'll sure as shit not be sassed by my own psychosis. NEXT QUESTION PLEASE~!

5. What games are you currently playing or would like to play in the future?

Battlefield 3, Dark Souls, Magic: The Gathering, Bioshock Infinite, and a bunch of other garbage. It's a lot easier just to stalk people online through their gamertag and psn tag than actually answer something like this.

You could look at mine (GT:OMGhotdogs, PSN:jsapper), but I don't exactly like most people enough to to game with them, let alone accept friend requests. I'm kind of a misanthrope, and spend most of my time mumbling to myself and hiding in dark places within online shooters hoping to ambush someone and steal their wallet and possibly ask them how punctuation works. You know, so I can type up readable things instead of things like this.

6. Are you alright?


7. Stop staring at me.

That's not a question.

8. You're not making this any easier.

Funnel Cake?