When I say survived, I mean HE survived. The wrath of me, when he stays up all night and comes to bed at 5am.
K has strategically failed to mention the release of this new gem, probably with good reason. Have I mentioned I effing HATE call of duty? With the firey passion of a thousand burning suns.
I know there are plenty worse things he could be doing that I could be yelling about, but Call of Duty is a thorn in my SIDE. And I want to punch it in the face.
Maybe I'm really just mad at myself for joining K's dirty threesome, trying to learn how to play and subsequently being mocked by all of K's online gamer boyfriends.
It looks like it's going to be another stormy Call of Duty season. I'll batten down the hatches. And stock up on US Weeklys to keep myself entertained.
I just stumbled upon your blog and the deeper I delve the more I am certain we were separated at birth. Oh, and to bring it full circle, F*ck Call of Duty. When I hear him say, "It's Black Ops time," my spirit resumes dying a slow death.
ReplyDeleteHaha... THANK YOU! Seriously, one of these days I'm going to snap that britney spears headset and set it on fire.
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