Tappa Tappa Tappa
Has recently been reprimanded by Papa Smurf in a very un-Smurfy way. You see I’ve been cheating on this game Smurf’s Village. I’ve always scoffed at those… games like Farmville and stuff, but when I saw JD-Lu’s wonderful Valle Verde-level Smurf Village complete with bouquets of flowers and snails and pink worms and picket fences and yellow bridges and bushes after cute fucking bushes, I knew I had to have a village myself! And in the spirit of kainggitan and pure wanton materialism I got got got myself one of those iPod Touch thingies until almost ten of us in the batch has one each. For more. I am so materialistic I now have three bridges over one river, so those cute Smurfs could walk freely and not have to be in file to the point of pixel overlapping all the time. In a way these touch screen gadgets are gross, and someone needs to do a culture swab on them. Just recently everyone in the batch with a unit got sipon, and why not:
Me: Pyro, can I check out your Smurf’s Village?
Pyro: Sure, (sniff sniff, pick nose pick nose, tap tap tap on the screen), will just harvest (cough cough, covers mouth, tap tap with the hand used to cover mouth). Here.
Me: Cool! Wow is this sarsaparilla? (tap tap tap)
So back to the reprimand. The Smurf’s Village game is the sort where you plant potatoes and kamatis and stuff and wait for hours and hours and hours on end before you could harvest them and stuff. And harvest them on time, or they would die and you would be accused of not watching over them. Sort of like Tamagotchi, with greater responsibilities. JD-Lu would schedule all his activities around the planting and harvesting. Five minutes to grow strawberries, so he would plant strawberries just after he parked his car, walk for five minutes to the wards, and harvest them on time. In the middle of giving advice to a terminal patient I suddenly remembered my potatoes–so I made some cheapy excuse and clicked clicked clicked to harvest in secret. Then I discovered the cheats online, that you could just fastforward your unit’s clock and the produces would grow instantly. And suddenly Papa Smurf’s pop out message: You’re overworking your Smurfs by moving the clock forward. I’m disappointed in you.
Well fall in line, Papa Smurf, you’re not the first person to feel that way! When I accidentally kicked my Tae-kwon-do instructor in the crotch back in ’96 and he squirmed and writhed and turned red in pain he gasped: I’m.. dis.. appointed in YOU!!! When I told my 2nd year high school music teacher, Sister Something, that I would rather go out of the classroom than sing that crap song, she said, “I’m deez-appointed in you!” I don’t give a crap, Papa Smurf, I don’t give a crap ya hear?!?!