Yeah, I'm Talking to You WoW.

DEAREST World of Warcraft,1

You think you’re so clever. You think you can just waltz in here, shaking your hips, showing your tits, and sweep my boyfriend right off his feet? Well, you’d… you’d be right. 2

You, WoW, are a contraption of evil. Forged from the fires of Mount Doom. Or Blizzard Entertainment, whatever, same thing. You were created to lock away boys from the outside world, render their muscles jelly under an increased raiding schedule with their guild that results in angry girlfriends, decreased sun exposure, and increased beer gut. You, a tool proven to result in a 98.9% break-up rate amongst player/non-player relations.3

I have sat and watched you being played on a Friday night. Multiple nights. Not just once, and definitely more than twice. I’ve followed quests, I’ve read sexist, stupid, and admittedly sometimes funny, but mostly stupid, definitely stupid, comments in your little chat box. I have watched countless raids with feigned interest, asking: “What’s that shiny dude?” “Does this bar mean you’re healing?” “I really think you’re kind of running low on Mana?” and even, “So when you say scrub, that’s bad - right?” 4

I have witnessed quests, I’ve tried to follow lore, I’ve even attempted to listen earnestly to conversations on gear. You, WoW, have managed to make boys pass up getting ass to getting gear. Countless nights have I asked not-so-innocently: “Are you coming over tonight?” To the seemingly oblivious response: “I have a raid.” And one night - one legendary night - I have been kept up by the sounds of a Chinese dude brought in especially for leading your stupid guild into a stupid raid that you couldn’t skip. And he was loud. He was really, really loud. For this, I have you to thank WoW.5

But the worst part comes yet: When I, in desperation, have attempted to play you. As shameful as it may be, I have downloaded your really-fucking-long-to-download file. I have picked a somewhat-clever-because-this-is-important screen name. And I played, in hopes of conquering the barricade of WoW between boy and girl. And I played truly. And I also played badly. You have too many buttons, I can’t control the mouse, your quests are sometimes indecipherable and everyone in your community hates n00bs. To this I say: Way to make it difficult for me, fiend.6

I know more about you than I’d like to know. I can hold a coherent conversation on you, or at least I can follow one. This brings me shame. A knowledge I never asked for and somehow ended up with anyway. 7

It’s my hope that one day, if not today - then maybe the next day - some highly-paid spy breaks into your Blizzard headquarters and destroys each and every one of your servers. I can only hope that one day either this happens or you suddenly become very uncool. So uncool that no one wants to play you. It appalls me that some people actually get paid to play you. It appalls me that it’s not just one kid, or maybe a hundred kids - but millions of them. All sitting in their rooms, probably getting paler, probably getting life-altering hand cramps, probably not getting any. 8

I have mild visions of my future with you in it and it really kind of sucks. 9

I end with this: I WILL BEAT YOU, I WILL. SOMEHOW. SOMEWAY.10

SINCERELY, The Angry Girlfriend