So, I'm living to see my 360 die. I wonder if it can hear me typing this message. Maybe it's reading my thoughts.
Shell out a shit ton today on RE5 and a new hard drive. I'm a part of the problem. I have a 20 GB drive. I don't need another but just wanted it so I can run all my games off the hard drive. I'm actually liking the 360, irregardless of the awaiting axe hanging over my head. That's how I feel. I downplay 360 games because I'm afraid of a RROD. I just know the resultant anger will piss me off. Bring up all the threads, all the hatred, the thoughts of gamers cast away for a few pennys. Then something magical happened...
I played Orange Box. It was glorious. Funny (portal). Scary (ravenholm). Enticing (cake). I can't stop. I want more. I just picked up COD4 a few months ago and I actually appreciate the HD.
So, I rush home after getting off early (!!!) from work to Best buy. Pick up RE5 and a 120 giger on a whim. Hell, it has the transfer cable and I'm hooked. I have the money and I say, what the hell. I'm falling in love with this damn console.
...
Then I walk in...
It was a terrible sight.
I might cry...
I try once...twice...3 times....it works.
But I'm not sure if I can forget. There she was, lying there...in that position. Like a lil whore. She says I'm sorry and boots up. I'm so, so, so fuckin stupid. I forgive her and start up the transfer process. Then go downstairs to console myself with fellow gaffers. Now, I wonder? If I go back up stairs, what will I find. She says she needs 1 hour and 20 minutes. WTF IS SHE DOING FOR AN HOUR AND TWENTYGODDAMN MINUTES? Fucking WHORE!!!
Am I screwed?