Can you believe that I’m almost onethird of the way done with my life and I’m still writing for a cool-ass magazine, hanging with hot women half my age and staying up on all the slang? I hate to be extra AF, but I’m just gonna say it—life begins at 40. Sure, some more radical, pro-life readers would insist that life begins at conception, while the true feminists know damn well that it doesn’t start until eight weeks and four days after the free clinic birth control stops working. But, me? I’m barely a teen, as far as anyone besides the law is concerned. People ask me all the time how I look so young, even though I treat my body like a condemned theme park. So, it is with great humility and an equal amount of honor, that I present to you these six, handy tips for you, the reader, to embrace as you approach my age.
Oh, to be sixteen and wasted again. Back in the day, I’d be able to consume as much five-dollar peach vodka as the bum outside of the liquor store was able to purchase for me and the guys. Bottle after bottle, we’d tie one off and then get into something stupid, like a boxing match or a car. Then, after we cleaned up the mess, we’d do it all over again, before wrapping up the evening with video games, such as the original Grand Theft Auto. This is what it’s like for most people, I assume.
But, as you approach middle age, something strange starts to happen— you get really, really good at driving after way too many drinks, probably from all the practice you received while playing video games drunk. This means that you won’t learn your lesson after waking up in prison or a ditch, but you’ll feel as if you did. Oh, man, do I hate the fact that I can’t take fifteen shots and hit the ski slopes like I used to. These days, it’s three pints of red wine, per shift—no more. Plus, it doesn’t hurt to drink a few glasses of water between morning dry heaves.
At some point in your thirties, you will date a newly divorced mother of two, who doesn’t have the time nor the patience to sustain (or quit) her coffee addiction via the drive-up window. This lady (she will be named Linda, Tiffany or Karen, regardless of race or background) will introduce you to a place called Bed Bath & Beyond, that sells home espresso makers. Then, she will teach you how you can make the same drink you’re used to paying five bucks for, at no more than a dollar per cup. After learning this, you will pay the equivalent of one month’s rent for an espresso machine.
Every morning for the first week or so, you will wake up, groggy and halfasleep, to battle this machine and its overly sensitive controls. Ground the espresso, push it into the thing, turn the dial...oh, shit, you forgot the milk... run the steamer, add some chocolate, shake the whip cream, suck in the excess air from the can for a quick nitrous boost, forget about how you just turned on the machine and clean up a huge mess of foamy milk, before realizing that you added way too much water and not enough coffee. This will happen daily, for no more than ten days in a row, before you give up and start going to Dutch Bros, because "at least it’s not Starbucks." You will then return the espresso machine to Bed Bath & Beyond and make an impulse buy from GameStop next door, for a Playstation 4 Pro and a copy of Red Dead Redemption 2.
Gaming is no longer something that only losers and nerds do—geeks, like me, enjoy video games, as well. I’m not going to acknowledge anyone who plays games on their hand-held device or considers Dance Dance Revolution to be anything other than an exercise simulator. Instead, I’m going to focus on the games that real, hardcore gamers enjoy, often times playing to the death and devoting their lives, blogs and Twitter wars to. For instance, the Red Dead Redemption franchise is a fantastic, underrated gem that includes two of the best games of all-time (RDR and RDR2, which I just picked up), as well as a launchpad release (Red Dead Revolver) that was, in its own way, revolutionary and ahead of its peers.
Most people think of video games as a hobby—but, to take video gaming to the next level and dedicate serious time, income and sleep to it, that’s something that only an adult can appreciate. Long gone are the days of skipping school or missing a day of work, in order to complete a mission or side quest. Rather, as an adult pushing 40 and running your own business, it is completely possible to become so involved with video games, that the bills turn into phone calls, casual fuck buddies turn into "sorry, new phone, who dis" texts and a steady, rounded, three-meal-per-day diet turns into handfuls of snack chips and strategic placement of salsa dip upon one’s chest.
I’m sorry, but this game fucking sucks—there, I said it. Grand Theft Horse II is no more than a walking simulator with a cut-scene simulator added to it. There are several feats that, when taken into account, make this game legendary, in more ways than one. Here is a short list of things that Rockstar, the company responsible for the game, managed to pull off in RDR2:
* A five-hour training mode, that teaches you how to shave, change clothes, pat your horse and hold the "X" button, while listening to throwaway characters talk about irrelevant or redundant plot details, as you travel for hours at a time between two points—only to yield five-to-six minutes of actual game play per one-hour mission.
* The same five-hour training mode completely forgetting to mention that you can save your game, how the game-defining "red eye" feature works, that you can only carry a certain amount of cargo (but, this quantity is completely unknown, until you reach capacity after finding a rare or essential item, at which point you are told to "drop some things," but after dropping all the things, you still don’t have room), that you must bathe each individual part of your body if you want other characters to interact with you and, oh, the main character of the socalled "prequel" is never mentioned once in the original game on which the series is based.
* A UFO Easter egg, that is fucking identical to the one found in Grand Theft Auto V—right down to being on the top of a mountain—as well as a mystery hunt for a serial killer and a rumor regarding Sasquatch, in case the "let’s just put a plastic, westernthemed blanket on our last game" formula isn’t perfectly clear. Oh, and for the fans who want an extra element of dedication to the Rockstar theme, they made sure to include a completely broken online version of the release, right down to the optional DLC, which can cost twice as much as the game itself.
Imagine Dragons? Sorry, I’d rather not.
For instance, let’s say it’s Friday night, you’re single, your hair is turning gray and your family is dying off at a rate of one member per month. Do you really want to waste any more of your life hanging out with friends at the bar, traveling or meeting new people? No. And, this is why RDR2 is such a disappointment. I mean, I took two weeks away from work to put some serious hours into the story campaign, but all I’ve been able to experience so far is, "Gee, the textures on the giant rock that my horse just accidentally fell off of are fantastic. I really hope I don’t respawn halfway across the map without a ride back...oh, goddamnit." But, I’ve learned that I need to see things through to the end, at least once in my life, and with an equal "goddamnit," I’m gonna finish this game— even if it means missing my next dead aunt’s funeral.
Sure, these days, loyalty means nothing. But, most men are afraid to stand up for themselves and walk away. That’s why Rockstar was able to piggyback so poorly off of their last few games and still maintain a decent fan base, ready to be abused and come back for more. I mean, is this really the sign of a healthy relationship? Especially when one considers just how vital of a role the community plays in the gamer ecosystem? If we wanted ten minutes of action-packed game play with a bunch of losers, we’d just go play Fortnite. But, you know better, Rockstar—we waited eight fucking years for this game and all we got was some really cool mechanics when it comes to horse testicles. So, I will finish this game like it’s an overcooked steak—I paid way too much for this, to just uninstall it and go back to God Of War: Single Dad Simulator.
Eight years, guys—I spent the best years of my life waiting for this game. Don’t be like me.
