Day 4
Cleaning. 
God damnit.
Some alien's gonna rape this fucker. You know it is going to happen.
Oh oh. Discinclined Plane just can NOT cook.
Deja vu, and that's not even metaphorical.
Extinguished in loving memory of Otik, 2005-2006.
These are some fucking repetitive Sims. If I were reviewing the game based on this house so far I'd be docking points for what appears to be a stunted catalogue of behaviors.
Oh what the hell why not this calls for more mild blasphemy.
O come all ye faithful
joyful and quite hungry
o come ye o come ye put down the ham
come and behold Them
tasty king of pastries
o come let us adore them
o come let us adore them
o come let us adore them
taste the lard...
ClearlyDelusional washes her poptart plate, and here is DP's failed, torched cooking attempt still sitting there, curling smoke, around 3 hours later. If this were real-time I'd start taking bets on how long it takes before someone cleans it. Small reward for bets making it to daybreak, and huge stipend if it makes it to the next nightfall...
There are about three poptarts sitting in the kitchen from Test-0's serving yet SHE'S MAKING ANOTHER POPTART.
I compared this house once to having a cage full of retarded computer hamsters. I now add, retarded hamsters with OCD and autism.
"I had my eye on this cute pink number but I'm worried it'll make my ass look huge."
"Sugar you are going to ROCK that little pink dress and your ass is going to look like the sublime, glistening helmet of Cupid himself."
"I toooootally like had my eyes on this sweet pair of high heeled Pradas that'd just pump your ass right in the air I mean you wouldn't even be able to walk past the baboon exhibit at the zoo without getting the alpha male adjusting his shorts if you know what I mean..."
"Since you are clearly a total faggot AND narcissist, how about a stupid wide-brimmed hat that'd make me look like a coke cartel lord's whore?"
"I hate you."
Fin
Seriously, what the fuck was that? Sex in the Sim City?
Hooray! More music, less fucking pillowfights!
Oooh... sunrise...
The burnt food prevails!
Zarrr heads to work, and I laughed out loud at the 'chirp, chirp!' of the car alarm he disabled.
"Good mo"WHAP
He really loves this thing. I think he's been up there around 8 sim hours.
Hey, maybe the secret to getting the house filthy was getting Zarrr a job.
Now that I think about it the other big plate washer is Test-0 and he's leaving for work soon, himself.
I would never have imagined I'd be saying, "there's hope yet!" in terms of a house eventually falling into poor maintenance.
So as I finish typing out that thought and turn my attention back to the game
You fat cocksucker.
While this just looks like yet another fucking pillowfight, what bears mentioning here is that the poptart (ANOTHER FUCKING POPTART) that blackguy32 has, was one that DP had put down.
While there seems to be yet another obvious racist joke in here to condescend to delivery, what I will say is this. I'm certain if it wasn't for 32's intervention there would've been ANOTHER fire that DP was responsible for.
I don't know why I'm exercising such restraint at obvious racist jokes. I had a HITLER in my last thread.
Test-0 heads to his dishwashing job, carpooling with what appears to be some chick from UPS.
DP serves up sandwiches, and with two heavy cleaners at work, this room'll hopefully start looking like the inside of Rev. Fred Phelp's mind in short order.
HAY GUYS THAT LOOKS LIKE FuFUCK YOU GUYS AND YOUR GOD DAMN PILLOWFIGHTS
Wait what
I AM THE LAW
Zarrr's back, and he's tuckered.
The budding politico chooses to sleep beneath "Do Not Fuck With" Jesus. Good call.
Night falls, and...
Ho-ly shit. Would you look at that. The pot of shit that DP burnt at three in the morning is still there, and looking pretty fetid.
The fucking mall cop leaves for his job of leering at hypocritical, over-mascara'd highschool drop-outs in front of the Hot Topic, and occasionally tailing them to the Spencers when he wants to buy a coffee at the Starbucks next to it in order to have an excuse to talk to that 'hot, artfag piece of pussy' that works there.
HA it's the same UPS girl that picked up Test-0.
Heh heh heh
Test-0 returns.
HAHAHA. He goes straight for the 'bubble blower'.
This is extra funny to me only because I think that the bubble blower is at best a total metaphor. And, when I used to be a dishwasher, I think the first damn thing when I got home was get stoned.
There's no earthly way of knowing... which direction we are going...
Oh, Jesus.
Oh, double Jesus.