Dragon Age has too much nudity in it to be enjoyable

This is easily in my top 50 favourite tracks. In terms of Sadness Evoked, it scores a perfect 10/10. For some reason I always Eva Green singing this and then drowning at the end of Casino Royale; fucking sadness all around. Speaking of sadness, I learned today that on monday I get to endure six hours of psychiatric testing, all of which will be super fun and enjoyable and I won't feel bad about it at all.

Just kidding, I'm sure it will be fucking miserable.

Here is a .gif  me fighting a Desire Demon. I was playing DA:O earlier and decided to take a great deal of screenshots. I've never actually beaten the game despite spending north of 100 hours over the last three years on this goddamn game. I usually finish the dwarves and mages, or elves and mages, or elves and dwarves, but never all three. I think I've got three save files all with around 40 hours each. Well, this time I promise I'll finish the game for certain. I'm positive my incoming addiction to LOTRO will make no difference. Although I have a hard time becoming addicted to anything. I thought at one point I was addicted to sex, but then I touched myself more and that thought became irrelevant. I've thought before I could be an alcoholic, but then I graduated university and realised drinking was a way to forget how shitty life is as opposed to a celebratory activity. Every now and again I become addicted to a particular video game, or a food item, but those all fade away. When it's gone, I feel empty, like a piece of myself is missing.

Speaking of the 'missing' concept, have you ever felt as though you weren't sure if what happened in a dream was real or 'only imagination?' If yes, apply that entire feel to all day, everyday (and night!) and now you know what it's like to be me. My psychotic dreams have elevated to a new apex of realism, to the point where I actively do not know if something is real or not. My memories have been ransacked by this ugly fucking psycho mentality. Memories are the most precious personal possession a human being has, and now I'm losing them. Like weeds growing amongst flowers, I can't tell what is what. I frequently will be in conversation with someone and make a point of reference to a prior discussion, only to learn that never happened. It's startling at first, but then it gets to a point where conversation in general is useless. Talking to myself is far more fruitful, since I can't tell what is real or not. My actual reality is being steadily unhinged. I think that's part of the psychosis and not something more severe, like my aforementioned penis-shaped tumour. Although since I'm not cleared to get a head CT (with contrast!) no one will ever know. What if I have an extra wiener in my head? How terrific would that be? I could perform cunnilingus and sex at the same time. I would be the most popular porn actor of all time, forever.

Like, he totally came BLOOD. On my FACE!

But really, what kind of job must that be? I was watching All About Anna the other day and it's the first film I've seen where the lead actors/resses actually bone for realz. It's hilarious though, because the actor who bones the lead actress first is ugly as shit and has a small dong. That would be kind of crazy though, right? Porn is one thing, but thespians banging just seems wrong somehow.

If I were King of the Universe, I would decree that every hot actresses would have to do a porno. That way all sexual mystery would be gone. Also it would prevent nightmares such as the Kardashians and Kristen Stewart. She totally has coneboobs. The first scene of her topless would be enough to remove her the industry forever. Not like now, where she shows her tas in some trashy indie flick that no one will see since the pics of her coneboobs already leaked onto the interballs. It would also prevent Lindsay Lohan doing a Playboy cover for something like 750k American. What kind of shit is that, I mean really. Fuck her and her nearly-invisible nipples.

That's a shitload of coke though.

If I had that kind of cash I would buy my own house, buy a Saab, and invest the rest. Live off the dividends, yo. Money management like a CEO, and all the bitches be hatin'.

Clothed adventuring is for casuals.

Just kidding, my money management skills are somewhere between 'flat broke' and 'homeless.' My mother has purchased a few books for me, but since I have no money I haven't gotten around to reading them. What purpose are money books if I couldn't even afford spaghetti at a semi-decent restaurant? Plus, I get all of my cooking fetish out of the way by watching Hell's Kitchen and/or Top chef. Fuckers don't know what's going on.

Neither do I, evidently. Everything I've written prior to this statement has been utter nonsensical shittus. Everything after this point will be also nonsensical shittus.

I think I might just end my rant now. I have nothing to look forward to in life. I've already experienced opposite-sex romances, I've lived on my own and with flatmates, I've been to other countries and travelled all over my own, I've got a university degree. I've had physical labour jobs, medical science laboratory jobs, and desk jobs. What the fuck else is there to look forward to besides children, to which I am allergic.

I've never handled a human infant before. In all of my soon-to-be twenty five years, I've never even been near an infant. My first friend has recently begun down the [unintentional?] procreation path with his wife, and that will be the first human infant I will have been near.

Whatever.