So this one time, The Sims 3 kept me from running down my Ex and pulling his eyes out. Heads up everyone, this is going to be more graphic than tumblr feminists.
So, once upon a time Mika had a Fiance. He turned out to be a cheating whorebag and is no longer a part of her life.
BUT OH, WOE WAS HER. How ever was she to move on with her life after such a staggering event? Well, I’ll tell you: By meticulously spending hours of face shaping technology, meticulously planned outfits, and reticulating splines (whatever those are…10 years+ later and I’m still not sure…) and recreating what can only be a descried as a perfectly eerie carbon copy of her now EX fiance.
I feel that I should also preface this blog with an obligatory legal statement. I, Mika, in no way actually wish any physical, emotional, or mental harm to my ex and I am simply writing this blog for the ultimately worthless internet fame it may bring me. The product of this blog is 100% Satirical in regards to anything that would likely get me arrested. Simply put, I’m just too pretty for prison.
Okay, now that that’s out of the way…. I wanted him dead. Deader than Kathy Griffin’s career. So naturally, I went to my Sims. You see, I am female, I am the proud owner of a vagina, which means I have a predisposition (calm down Tumblr) to enjoy a game about making what are essentially tiny moving paper dolls of people I know and love and controlling their every move and wish like some sort of sick digi-terrorist puppet master. Oh, and for those of you who don’t know what The Sims is? It’s exactly that. The word “Sim” comes from “simulation”. Basically tiny people whose lives you control every waking aspect of their lives. EVERY. ASPECT. When they pee, when they eat, IF they eat, when they sleep, breed, marry, party, work, etc. So as you can imagine, this can become pretty addicting.
Anyway, back to my point, what I had done was essentially designed a perfect 3D Sim model of my ex and sent him to go swimming. (Lets ignore the fact that he can’t actually swim in real life). For those of you who have played The Sims, even once, you know where this is going. We’ve all done it. From the moment we discovered we could do it, we’ve been doing it. I removed the ladder. You see, Sims require a ladder to exit the pool. Swimming in the game is considered exercise, and therefore they become tired. When a Sim becomes tired, they get a ‘moodlet’ called “Exhausted” and when walking around, would fall asleep. Ah, but MIKA! YOUR SIM IS NOT WALKING! HE IS SWIMMING. “I know…” she said darkly, as her eyes glazed over as if she were eyeing a pint of Ben and Jerry’s.
“CTRL+SHIFT+C” she pressed, the transparent blue cheat bar making itself known to her monitor. “testingCheatsenabled true” she pressed. “Move_Objects on” she typed, her fingers giddy with excitement. Buy mode was activated and the ladder was selected, and deleted. Slowly I watched as he paddled his way around the pool and began to grow tired. He would tread water in place and yell up at the screen, shattering the fourth wall of my enjoyment, as if begging his fleshy God for benevolence. But nay. There was to be no kindness today. Not on this save file. Treading water finally exhausted him, he fell asleep in the pool, and drown. The Grim Reaper appeared and took him, and a tiny urn was left pool side. Which was quickly sold for thirty eight Simoleons. (#SimsRevengeFanFic)
Okay, but all revenge fantasy aside, The Sims is probably the best thing to happen to those of us with some aggression (or dreams!) to work out. Okay, maybe fewer on the dreams, unless you’re one of those girls who runs around making every boy you have a crush on, marrying them, and filling your house with babies and kittens (which I totally don’t do….ever….). The Sims offers a bizarre outlet into things that might not be the healthiest in real life. For example, if you want to buy the biggest piece of land you can get your hands on, fill every square foot of it with nothing but sports cars, and take a different one to the bar every night to go looking for chicks to take home to your Ferrari trailer park? GO FOR IT! Do you possess the inner workings of a crazy cat lady, but all the Claritin in the world can’t help you with your crippling desire to be an old spinster with 40 cats? GUESS WHAT!? The Sims has PETS! So you go adopt those yowling little fur-babies and have at it, sister!
Another great way to spend your time in The Sims (the first copy which I was gifted right after it came out in February of 2000. I was 12, just to put this next bit into perspective), is finding every conceivable way you can “woohoo” in public. For those of you who are not players of The Sims, “Woohooing” is a very polite way of saying “fuck another Sims brains out”. So far, I have discovered several places to “woohoo”….you know…for science.
THEY ARE:
- The Bed (The bed has to be double sized, sorry college Sims, no fucking in your twin)
- The Shower
- The Hot Tub
- An Igloo (tThat’s right. If it’s snowing your whole family can build an igloo! And then mum and dad can go fuck in it…..the hell.)
- Shop Dressing Rooms
- Photo Booth
- Sauna
- Tent
- Car
- TIME MACHINE.
That’s right. You can get it on in a fucking TIME MACHINE. Too bad you can’t use said time machine to go back to 2000 and stop this f*cking game from being produced and chewing up literally ALL of your free time, not to mention the $49.99 price on the game and every expansion, of which there are usually like fifteen. Good thing this game was given to me when I was a teenager…..otherwise, you know…I may have wound up well adjusted. THEN who would nerdfit have writing for them?
I’m 99.9% sure that there are at LEAST 8,675,309 other places to woohoo in this game, but there are only so many hours in the day.
Along with woohooing there are plenty of other interactions. Festivals, roller rinks, horseback riding, and marriage! Yes, The Sims even offers everything from dating, to going steady, through the proposal and the wedding itself. The game is a little judgy in regards to polyamory, as once you’re married if you’re ‘caught’ woohooing with another Sim (yes, cheating is an option), your Sim and it’s spouse will get into a fight, potentially turning into a brawl in which the loser will move out, hobo bag on a stick and all, and hit the road.
Obviously with marriage being an option, babies are also an option. In the time from toddler to child you need to teach your Sim children to walk, talk, potty train etc. So this basically becomes one big balancing act of all the real life responsibility you’re supposed to be AVOIDING when playing a simulated game. Well, until recently…(I wonder how many truck drivers play Truck Simulator…) So your options are to raise a child and read them every baby book you can get your hands on, which gives them a leg up in school. Or, you can avoid teaching them to talk, walk, or potty train and essentially (as I’ve not done this yet, I can only assume) raise a tiny child who is about as useful as Terry Schiavo.
Essentially what I’m getting at is that The Sims is a horrible sociopathic device meant for people with a serious control and manipulation fetish (myself excluded, obviously, I only play for…uh…science. Yeah, that’s it.) to twist the lives of tiny people, their cries for help to their unforgiving maker going unheeded, swallowed by the vastness of the technology that birthed them. An endless web of capabilities, from drowning ex lovers, to raising mutant vegetable children, to fucking in public, The Sims is truly a testament to this generations desires in gaming. A voodoo doll in certain aspects, a dream maker in others. I will do a review of The Sims 4 when it’s released, as EA has clearly run out of ideas for expansions for The Sims 3, and their cocaine bucket has run dry.
This has been another meaningless article by Mika, please direct all hate-mail to Erik@nerdfit.com