Free Story: This Sadness Makes Me Happy

In a future where sadness has been outlawed by chemical means, a man struggles to live an empty life.

 This science fiction story asks the question: Does sadness provide meaning to our lives?

It is part of the Tales of Hope, Tales of Despair collection, available on all major retailers.

This Sadness Makes Me Happy

As Dr Mark Tate opened the door to his brand new, all-digital and improved Happiness Approved (TM) house, the first thing he was hit with was the disgusting smell.

His wife hadn’t taken out the garbage again.

The house was ultra modern, with every imaginable comfort. HDTV in every room, full access to the Internet with super speed WiFi, walls that changed colour with the sunlight to best project a happy mood. Being happy was important.

People who were not happy were Non-Happiness Criminals. Non-Happiness was the only possible crime, now that all the old crimes had been abolished.

Mark’s house was built with the best technology to keep him in a positive, optimistic mood all the time. The government wanted him to be happy. A happy citizen was a productive citizen.

Too bad the fancy electronic house didn’t clean up after itself.

Mark opened the fridge to drink some apple juice. It was at just the right temperature so that he could enjoy the cool taste without it also giving him a bad throat. A bad throat made one stressed, and being stressed led to anger. Which led to Non-Happiness Crime. Which was bad, so the highly sophisticated electronic made sure the temperature was neither too cold nor too hot. Even the fridge wasn’t too cold; Mark didn’t feel the cold blast of air he had felt in the bad old times. Now the air from the fridge was cool, but not cold.

He heard groaning and moaning sounds from his bedroom. He opened the door to see his wife having passionate sex with their neighbour. He immediately closed the door. Then, remembering something, he opened it again.

“Honey, I forgot to buy milk. I’m sorry.”

She looked over the shoulder of her lover. “That’s fine, dear. You can go again later. There’s some milk powder in the cupboard.”

“Thanks, dear.”

Mark closed the door and made his way to the kitchen. He had to throw the garbage out. The smell was horrible. It was sure to lower his happiness index and get him in trouble with the law.

He made some tea using milk powder. It tasted okay. Could have been worse.

On the table where he sat was a photo of his teenage daughter. She had died two years ago. He hadn’t cried. He hadn’t felt anything. It was all due to the Positivity Drug (TM).

He was one of the people who had helped make it, so it wasn’t like he could just ignore the results. Ten years ago, the Be Positive Movement (TM) had finally gained control of the government and the two houses of parliament. Their philosophy was very inspiring. All our problems were caused by the constant negativity spread by the media and newspapers. Humans were a happy bunch, if we were just allowed to be.

Of course, people refused to be happy. Hence the Positivity Drug (TM). It was optional, but with Non-Happiness now being a crime, people took it anyway.

And it worked. Crime was down. People no longer felt sad. There was no anger or hatred anymore. The prisons had closed down, police officers retrained into more useful jobs, like Happiness-A-Okay (TM) officers, whose job it was to measure the level of happiness in individuals, and if it wasn’t, recommend them for Loving Positivity Care (TM) in a Happiness Centre. If the happiness level went down, you were treated as a sick person and given all the help you needed. After all, happiness was our natural state, said the Be Positive Movement (TM). Why would anyone not want to be happy?

Mark thought about all this as he looked at his dead daughter’s photograph. He had helped develop the drug, though it’s not like he had an option. The Movement paid his salary. He did what was asked of him. And he had to agree the world was a much better place now. You could walk down the middle of New York at two in the night and never once be mugged.

And yet, Mark felt something was wrong. He felt he should have cried at his daughter’s funeral. Instead, he just felt sort of empty inside. He wasn’t sad, as the drug suppressed symptoms of sadness. But he wasn’t happy, either. He sort of just was. Existing.

His wife was starting round two with their neighbour, so he decided to go for a walk.

That was the other thing. Now that negative emotions had been abolished, one was allowed to do anything that made one happy, as long as one didn’t harm others. Adultery was no longer a crime. If it made one spouse happy, who was the other to complain? Mark agreed with the logic. How could he not? The drug suppressed any negative emotions.

Mark went for a walk in the shopping district. It was full of flashy goods. Every store had a government-mandated sale, so that the customers felt happy and continued shopping. Credit card debt was a thing of the past, as one could pay one’s debt off by volunteering as a Happiness Monitoring Officer. The job was simple, merely checking that everyone around you was happy and reporting anyone who was not, so they could receive kind and loving care.

As he was walking the street, he saw her.

Her.

He saw her everyday.

The only person in New York, if not America and the world, who disobeyed the Non-Happiness Crime Directives. She was openly sad, was often seen crying in public, and refused to be happy, no matter how many notices she was served.

Since they lived in enlightened times, it wasn’t like she could just be carted off to prison.

Happiness-A-Okay (TM) officers had tried to get her checked into a health facility, but she tried to bite and attack them. Since the officers’ own Happiness Indexes were going down, they were ordered not to engage her unless they could do so without harm to themselves.

These days, everyone ignored her.

People crossed the street to avoid her.

Mark knew that once she had been a good citizen, with one of the highest Happiness Ratios in the country. And then her son had died, and she had refused to take her pills. She said they were of no use. They couldn’t imprison her, so they did the next best thing: She was put in society’s trash can. People ignored her and she got no government help, which meant she was reduced to begging and eating from garbage cans.

The crazy woman was getting too close to him, so Mark crossed the road to avoid her.

That was a close one.

He went to a restaurant and ordered a cheesy burger. It tasted delicious. The food nowadays always did, now that food processing had been banned. Everything was fresh and straight from the farm. Of course, the farms were overseas, as there wasn’t enough land or workers to grow so much fresh produce. As he bit into his triple cheese fresh meat burger, he wondered if the farm workers overseas were required to be happy as they toiled on the farms to produce enough food to feed one billion Americans everyday.

Even though the food was fresh, nutritious, and organic, he didn’t feel like eating. Since wasting goods was discouraged, being against the principles of the Be Positive Movement (TM), he put the remaining burger in his coat pocket and walked out.

Mark didn’t know what to do in his free time. He remembered the bad old days, when he felt stressed after work and went drinking with his friends. Or he took his wife to an expensive restaurant, feeling guilty the whole time. Their income barely covered their expenses back then, and any luxurious splurging meant weeks of budget cuts.

That was then. Now, they rarely went anywhere. The thrill of trying new food, of staying out late in new places, the risk of embarrassing yourself in late night drunken pub crawls—it had all gone. He wondered if it wasn’t just sadness that had been abolished.

In a dreamlike state, he walked home, to find his wife eating some bread and jam. “I didn’t feel like cooking. Here, have some,” she said, giving him the jam jar.

“No thanks, I’m not hungry,” he said. He sat down and asked her hesitantly, “Jenny, do you feel happy?”

She put down her bread and looked at him with a disapproving look. He felt stupid for asking such a question.

“I’ll have you know,” she said finally, “my Happiness score was the highest in the state.”

She continued eating. “That said, I don’t feel happy at all.”

He was surprised now. “You don’t?”

“I think your test just measures a lack of stress, mental or physical. I don’t have any of that. But I don’t feel happy at all. I feel kinda empty.”

“That’s how I feel too.”

“Is that so? Don’t you build the drug and the tests? Aren’t you supposed to be more enthusiastic?”

“I just work for them, honey.”

“And there you go, shirking responsibility again.”

Once, he would have felt angry. He would have shot back an insult, maybe even slapped her. Not now.

He knew the chemicals in his body were suppressing that automatic animal reflex. But did those chemicals make him happy?

“I need to go for a walk,” he said.

His wife had finished eating. “Stay. The Smiths are coming. Mrs Smith is pretty fine looking, and she loves wearing those short, tight dresses. I’m sure she could be convinced to drop her tiny dress for you. I’ll sure convince Mr Smith.”

“I find sex boring,” he said.

“So do I,” she said. “But we have to do something to pass the time. There is nothing on TV.”

That was true. Their 8K HDTV took most of the wall, but with violence now banned, there was nothing to watch on TV. The two channels constantly showed Be Positive (TM) workshops from around the world.

“Have a three-way,” he said. “On me.”

Mark left the house. He wanted to be alone. There was only one place he was guaranteed to be alone.

He went to the riverside park. It was empty at this time of the night. People were at home, preparing to get their beauty sleep, so they could remove any lingering stress of the day and recharge their Happiness Index (TM).

He used to bring his daughter here all the time. Those were happy times. Even when she had turned into a teenager and was too old (and too cool) to play catch or Frisbee with him, she would still just sit with him, admiring the slow-flowing river, the ducks fighting each other for the bread the visitors had thrown, quacking loudly like their lives depended on it. That was happiness. Why didn’t he feel like that anymore?

As he made his way to the bench he used to sit on with his daughter, he felt something was wrong.

She was there.

The Non-Happiness Criminal.

A part of him wanted to turn back and run away, lest he catch her criminal tendencies.

Another part didn’t care.

The second part won, and he went to sit by her. She was staring at the river too.

He sat by her for minutes; she ignored him, and he was happy with that.

Which was why he almost jumped in the air when she spoke to him.

“So who did you lose?”

He gripped his seat hard to not fall off. “Sorry?”

“I saw you in the graveyard. Who did you lose?”

Tears came flooding to his eyes. He realised he hadn’t taken his pill. “My daughter. She was only fifteen.”

“I lost my son too. He was twenty. They told you not to cry, right?”

He wiped his tears. “Yeah. Not outright. But it was hinted at. My sorrow would bring down the Happiness Index of the whole community. My employers doubled my dosage. And I didn’t feel anything.”

“What do you feel now?”

He clutched his heart. “Sort of empty.”

“Would you like to share your story with me?”

He looked at her with distrust. Ten years of training not to trust anyone with his emotions.

“I understand,” she said. “You don’t trust me. That’s fine. What works for me is sharing my story with animals. You can be guaranteed they are not informers.”

She got up to leave. “Goodbye stranger.”

As she left, the emptiness in his heart started beating even louder. It wanted to come out.

He heard a whimper. It was a stray dog. Stray animals were killed, in case they depressed anyone. This one must have survived somehow. It looked hungry yet scared. No doubt it had been hurt by humans before.

Mark took out his half-eaten burger and put it on the ground. “Here, boy. Help yourself.”

After a few tentative steps, the dog came over and started chewing on the burger. The burger vanished in seconds. The dog didn’t leave, though. It sat by him, its head resting on his shoes.

Mark stroked the dog’s head. And remembered how he used to stroke his daughter’s head in this exact park.

“You know, my daughter died a few years ago,” he said to the dog, feeling a little scared. But the dog didn’t judge him. It didn’t say he needed to think positive, or that it was his own fault.

“The Positivity movement blamed me. Said I must have wished for her death somehow by my negative thinking. Said I must use it to grow.”

He could feel more tears welling up. He was dangerously in the Non-Happiness Crime Zone.

“But no one let me cry. No one said it was okay to feel sad. I lost my child, dammit. No parent should have to bury their child.”

The tears were flowing openly now. “Who are they to tell me I can’t cry? I feel how I feel. Why do I have to feel happy all the time? I am sick of being happy. For once, I just want to feel sad.”

The sadness flowed over him, like a thick, viscous liquid. It covered him in its embrace. For the first time in ten years, he felt heartsick. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. Instead, he just sobbed quietly. He felt peaceful, after all these years. That was his state of being. This was who he was.

He was a Non-Happiness Criminal now. But he didn’t care.

“This sadness makes me happy. I am going to cry, dammit, and to hell with you and your positivity.”

The End

My Nightmare Experience with Fiverr Customer Care

I have been using Fiverr for a few years now, mainly to get covers for my books. And each time I’m there, I spend more than $5. Most of my covers cost $40-50, and if I hate one, I have to redo it. I did a quick calculation, and I’ve spent a few hundred dollars there in the last few months. Keep this in mind when you read on.

And even though I spend time there, I hate the website. Their user interface looks like it was drawn by a five year old with a crayon.

Pictured: The Fiver UX design team

Finding anything is a pain. Every time I want a status on a project I paid money for, I have to click a dozen times, while Fiverr forces me to update my seller details (Im not here to sell, Im here to buy), leave reviews for previous buys (I dont want to leave a review, I want to get a status on something I paid money for), or look at their latest news (to hell with your news, will you let me look at my project already?)

Where's my Goddamn status, Fiverr?
Where’s my Goddamn status, Fiverr?

But I put up with this shit, because we have been trained to put up with bad software.

Almost 17 years after Alan Cooper wrote his excellent book on UX design, most programmers are still living in Lala land. Customers have been trained to blame themselves for bad UI, and move on, licking their wounds.

But one thing I will not put up is with bad customer care. And Fiverr really took the cake on this one.

Fiverr Hates Its Customers

I’m not exaggerating or using strong words for hyperbole. Fiverr really hates its customers, ie, those of us who pay them money.

My problems started when I created 3 different orders, and paid for them together. Everything was fine.

Not.

One of the sellers decided he wanted more money. That wasn’t a problem, as I decided to just cancel his order.

But then… real horror…

Two of the other orders were frozen. Why?

They contained a “banned” word.

Murder.

Shocking. What  a dirty, dirty, word.

In my defence, the book I was writing was called “Invitation to a Murder”, and it was (surprise) a crime thriller.

But Fiverr didn’t care. My order was frozen, and I couldn’t proceed. It was like I was writing hard core werewolf and sheep porn.

By now, all 3 of my orders are jammed. I waited a few hours, but nothing happened.

No problem, I’ll just contact customer service, I thought.

I write horror fiction, but nothing compared me for Fiverr. I just got my plot for my next book.

Tales of Horror and Fiverr Customer Care. Now on Amazon

The first thing I found was, I had to enter all my details again. Even though I was logged in. Okay. Not a big deal.

But then, I was hit with a captcha.

Yes, you have to enter a captcha to contact user service. Even when you are logged in.

Let me repeat that:

I had to answer a captcha to contact customer service, after Fiverr took my money.

I screwed up the captcha, of course. So I had to do it again. And I got it wrong again.

It reloaded the whole page. I was forced to enter everything again.

This time, I decided to ask my wife to check the Captcha was right. Maybe I should invite all my friends over everytime I want to contact Fiverr.

“Hey guys, wanna come over for pizza and beer? Also, can you help me check my captcha is correct?”

I finally got through, but nothing happened.

Until one hour later, I got an email saying, basically, “We don’t trust you, you SOB. So you have to click this link to confirm you actually created the customer service request.”

And this was after A) I was logged in B) I’d had an account for years C) I’d spent hundreds of dollars in the last few months alone.

I clicked the link, and waited a few hours. No reply.

By this time, it was midnight, and I was really pissed. So I took the nuclear option.

I raised a dispute on Paypal. If you have never done this, Paypal gives both parties 20 days to come to an amicable solution.

Within 10 seconds, I got an email. My account had been blocked by the ironically named “Trust and Safety team.”

Yes, Fiverr are fans of George Orwell’s 1984.

Take that, amicable solution.

I was too tired to reply, so I went to sleep.

Next day, I got an email from Fiverr. They were all chummy. We are your friends. We will refund your money. Just withdraw the Paypal complaint.

And I was like, no you refund my money first.

And they were like, no, you broke our terms and conditions by complaining to Paypal.

At this stage, I had to make a decision. Paypal’s process can take a month or more, and during that time, my money would have been locked up. By this time, my original order had been unblocked (the part where they didn’t like the word Murder), and the sellers were emailing me to say they wanted more details. But I couldn’t reply, as my account was blocked.

So I decided to bend over, and withdraw my Paypal complaint.

They never refunded my money, even for the one order that was never completed because the seller wanted more money. As a thank you to me, Fiverr gave me Fiverr coupons, to use on Fiverr.com.

They treated me badly, but at least I got coupons

A real world comparison

Let’s compare this to a real world example. You go to Asda or Tesco to buy some stuff. After you have paid for the stuff, security remove a few items from your bags, and tell you to go to customer service to get a refund.

You wait there for 6 hours, and then you’re told you won’t get your money back, but they will give you these coupons to use instore.

When you try to get your card charge cancelled, the store BANS you. They put a photo of you at the front door, and warn you never to come to them again.

Question: Would companies get away with something like this in real life? Why do we let them in the e-World?

Oh, I know. Because we clicked “I Accept” on their Terms and conditions. The best form of bullying is when it is done using Terms and conditions.

Going Forward

Im a prolific author. I’ve written 9 stories and novellas in the last 2 months. All of which will be published individually and as part of a collection. I can’t afford to spend $500 everytime I create a cover. Fiverr filled that gap.

The sad thing is, short term, I’m going to have to continue using them, as they still have my money (in Fiverr credit). I’ve done a $100 course on eBook cover creation, and I’m going to start creating more of my own covers. eBook covers are easy, but print covers are tricky, which is why I went to Fiverr in the first place.

A quick word to you: If you do use Fiverr, do so with the risk that not only will you not get what you paid for, you wont even get your money back. See it as a gamble, a risk. Don’t spend too much money there.

If you feel depressed after reading that, here’s a picture of a puppy to lift your spirits.

So you want to write a book? Here are the tools you need

The problem: The biggest problem to writing a book is sitting on your ass and typing. I can’t help you with that. But I can help you with the 2nd biggest problem, which is, the nuts and bolts of how you write a book. Many people get hung up here, and stuck in an analysis paralysis, get nowhere.

In this blog, we’ll look at all the tools you need to write and sell your book, like:

  • Writing software
  • Software to create PDF / Kindle / Print books
  • Editing and Cover Design
  • Where to sell your book
  • A few marketing tools
  • Both Fiction and non-fiction books

Let’s get started.

Writing Tools

Most people will start with Ms Word, but that is actually a terrible tool to write a book. Word was built for sharing documents on a computer. Not to mention, it inserts all sorts of horrible formatting codes in your book which will really mess things up.

For writing books, I recommend special software.

Scrivener

Nothing beats Scrivener. It is the tool for writing. For a long time, it was only available on the Mac, and the Windows version, when it came out, was very basic (though it has mostly caught up now).

Scrivener is great for many reasons, like the fact it’s very lightweight, it allows you to see your chapters on a corkboard and move them around easily, it easily creates epub and mobi files (if you don’t know what they are, these are the two main formats ereaders use. epub is an open standard, mobi is Kindle specific).

You can also tweak the settings to create CreateSpace (printed paper books, see below for details) ready books.

Leabpub

If you are writing technical books with lots of computer code, nothing beats Leanpub. They are actually a publisher, but provide their own tool to write books.

You can either write the books online in the browser, or on your machine using Markdown. For the latter I recommend Typora, a tool I just discovered a few days ago, and on which Im writing this blog.

The great thing about Leanpub is that they create PDF, epub and mobi formats for you, and these are pretty good. There are many websites that claim to do this for you, but they create broken eBooks.

Editing and Cover Design

Editing is a word that means different things to different people.

Most people think of an editor as someone who goes over your book, offering you suggestions on how to improve it. Just remember this: Unless this person is paying you a large amount of money, they are not qualified to tell you anything. There are many scams where so called book doctors will offer to help you fix your book. If these people are so good, why don’t they write their own books?

Since I self publish all my books, I never use a book doctor or content editors.

Copy Editors

Copy editors, on the other hand, are a must. No matter how many times you read your book, typos will slip through. Copy editors will fix your typos, minor grammar issues, and make sure your book uses the same format (for fun, try reading what the Oxford comma is).

I strongly recommend hiring a copy editor. You should ask around for recommendations. If you can’t find anyone good, hire someone to do a sample read on Fiverr, and if you like them, hire them for longer jobs.

Exception to above: If you are writing a programming (or any other technical book where the text part is not the main thing), the readers care more about technical correctness and the code working, rather than the fact you mixed American and British spelling, or the fact you decided to ramble about how sad your life is, instead of teaching them Python. (Ahem)

In this case, I recommend good first readers. While you can pay for technical readers, I’ve found that many people will volunteer to read your book for you in return for early access, and they will find many typos as well.

Warning: Stay away from grammar checking software

Whatever you do, never, not in a million years, use a software to check your grammar. Spelling is okay, but not grammar. The reason being, English is a very fluid language, an evolving language. Most of these automated grammar checkers will make you sound like a dead cockroach with no personality. Have you read those papers/articles that go blah blah blah? That is how what happens when you follow the rules of grammar strictly.

And it doesn’t help most of these checkers are based on Strunk and White, a completely idiotic book people still follow. That’s not me saying, that’s a Professor of English saying that.

If you must, hire a human, people! Like I said, English is a fluid language, and your copy editor will work with your writing style (the good ones anyway).

Cover Design

Again, Fiverr. You can get a good cover for around $10-$20. If you want a print cover as  well, expect to spend 40-50 dollars.

If you know Photoshop or Gimp, you can do it yourself, keeping in mind that you must buy the images you use. Don’t Google for photos and use those, you will get sued. It’s safer to always buy the image.

Most designers on Fiverr will offer to buy an image for you (that you choose).

Selling Your Book

I will assume you have at least the PDF, epub and mobi formats, as these are the minimum you need. Many people, including me, read mainly on mobile devices. If you have an iPhone or Android, they have apps like the Kindle, and you no longer need a dedicated eReader.

Traditional Publishing

If you don’t value your time, and you want to remain a hobbyist writer for ever, then by all means send your book to a traditional publisher (also called legacy publishers). You will be paid a pittance, won’t be paid on time, the publisher will use creative accounting to screw you over, and the contract will make you a virtual slave.

The worst thing is the rights grabs. They will own the first rights to almost every book you write, and many authors have to ask permission from their publisher to write a frickin’ blog post. Like you are in Kindergarten and need to ask permission to visit the loo.

The only advantage is the so called exposure. So if your landlord accepts exposure as rent, and your super market will take the exposure tokens as payment, then by all means, go ahead. You can tell all your friends about how you spent three years writing a book and got paid in exposure.

In case I haven’t been clear: Legacy publishing is a cesspit full of blood sucking leeches who make their money off your hard work.

If you still want to work with them, at the bare minimum hire a good Intellectual Property lawyer to go over the contracts (and never hire an agent. Agents are in bed with the publishers).

For selling fiction and low priced non-fiction

Amazon

Amazon is the big daddy of publishing, and with good reason. They have the most readers, and for good reason. They go out of their way to please customers.

Have you ever walked into a physical store and seen all those bestseller lists? Yeah, they’re fake. Publishers pay to get on that.

Amazon was the first company to recommend books readers would actually like, rather than which publisher paid them the most money.

The great thing about Amazon is, once your book picks up momentum, it will automatically be recommended to new readers via the Also bought engine.

The downside of Amazon: To get 70% royalty on your books, you have to price them $2.99 and $9.99.

Which maybe okay for a few people, but when I sell my programming books, I sell them at $39. At that rate, Amazon would pay me 30% royalty.

I sell my novels on Amazon, but sell my non-fiction directly.

Apple iBooks, Kobo etc

These are all rivals of Amazon, but have never made much of an impact. And they have the same problems as Amazon. If you want to sell via them, I suggest a distributor like Draft2Digital, which will submit to many publishers at once. Avoid Smashwords.

Createspace

If you want to sell physical books, Createspace is the best service. Unlike their rivals, they are free, and since they are now owned by Amazon, your books are listed on it easily.

You need to format your book and cover specially for this, but it is beyond the scope of this blog. For covers, people on Fiverr will do this for an extra twenty dollars or so. For formatting, you can tweak Scrivener and OpenOffice.

Creating print books is slightly tricky. That said, it’s not that much work, once you get the hang of it.

The best way to sell your non-fiction books

Non fiction books are different, because you need a platform for them. Even if you go via legacy publishing, they will ask you to build a platform. But if you are doing all the work, why would you give up 90% of the profits?

Leanpub which I mentioned earlier, will sell you books for you.

But the absolutely best, The Best (TM) for selling books is Gumroad. Seriously, I ? Gumroad!

There user experience is the best I have seen for any website. You can start selling in 3-4 clicks. They pay you every few weeks, handle VAT and other taxes for you, and did I mention they are a joy to use? Most software is painful to use, but Gumroad is a real pleasure to use.

You can not just sell books, but software, recurring charge courses, WordPress plugins, Excel cheatsheets, anything you want.

Use Gumroad! ?

Other software

Email list

I found email lists useless for my fiction, but for non-fiction, they are a must.

I have tried a dozen services, and they all suck in one way or the other.

Mailchimp is an okay choice, and free to start with.

Creating your website

Nothing beats WordPress. It is easy to use and has millions of themes and plugins.

You can get a free site at WordPress.com, who will also host your own domain for a small price. They have a few restrictions about which you can install, but handle security and updates for you. If you know nothing about websites, they are a good option.

If you want full control, you can also host WordPress on your own website, from as low as $5/month. Just remember, you get what you pay for, so I wouldn’t for the cheapest option.

Finally…

We come to the end. If you Have any more questions, feel free to drop me a line.

3 Reasons I’m Sick of Pokemon Go

Like everyone else in the civilised world, I too downloaded Pokemon Go. At first, it was fun. I was catching Pokemon daily, watching my levels go up. I actually started walking. Hurray! Some excercise. Can I cancel my gym membership now?

Then, the love affair started to end, when the Pokemon followed me into the toilet.

poke ratDammnit, can’t a man take a shit in peace?

Here are 3 reasons I am sick of Pokemon Go:

 

3. It’s a lot of dreary boring repetitive shit

90% of the Pokemon you catch will be rats or wild birds, making you wonder if you are playing a game or capturing vermin. It’s gotten so boring that when I see yet another rat I have to capture, I’m like: Not. Another. Goddamn. RAT.

 

2. I’m sick of over hyped media stories

I swear to Freakazoid, if I read one more story about someone drowning while catching a water Pokemon, or breaking into Fort Knox to catch a Pokemon, or falling to their death trying to jump off the Eiffel Tower to catch a Pokemon, I’m going to kill someone.

Nintendo doesn’t need to do any marketing when these lazy journalists are doing it for them. For free.

 

1. There is ultimately no purpose to the game

You catch a Pokemon, then you catch another, then you catch another rat. And then you start thinking, is there more to life than this?

It’s the same shit over and over again, except it starts getting tougher. I wasted 15 Pokeballs on a stupid flying fish, and it jumped out of the balls 5 times.

And what do you get for all this Pokemon grabbing?

Nothing.

And that’s when I suffered an existential crisis. Like Gautam the Buddha, I wondered: Is there more to life than  this?

Unlike Gautam the Buddha, I just shrugged and ate an icecream (and forgot all about Nirvana).

 

POKE3

Daddy can’t feed you right now, daddy has Pokemon to catch

That’s it, I’m done with this crap.