Think of a writer /co/.
Anyone from anywhere, just think on the first writer that comes to your head. Ready now?
Are you sure? Are you really, really, really sure about it? OK then I warned you. Seriously m8 you need to be totally sure The person you choose starts writing your life from now on. What happens? _____________
A lot of surreal shit happens to me, but at least I might rediscover myself and maybe even meet him.
It's Clive Barker, so it is going to get kinky as all fucking shit and I may even get super powers. I might die horribly, but there will likely be more than a few orgasms and cosmic truths. I can dig it.
Can't wait for me and my family's ass to be kicked every 2nd week.
Alex Hirsch - I supposedly make amazing personal/character advancements but everything feels rushed and inauthentic. Also there's some seriously misdirected nostalgia. At least I adopt some kind of wacky pet??? And my extended family's way more supportive, nice.
it's pretty much art school confidential + ghost world and my life comes to a close in a way that's not objectively that bad but still leaves you with a deep sense of loss lmao
>bendis writes my life
that explains why i cant remember anything from the last 7 years
at least i will be popular with the normies
>at least i will be popular with the normies
sometimes I wonder if thats a good thing
Would life be better if we had normalfag friends?
Would life be better if we were normalfags?
So basically my whole life is a collection of short stories where I learn to grow up and be an adult. I can deal with that, it would be like living in a really well written sitcom.
That was my choice too.
But what if I'm just some background character? Or some goon or bystander who gets killed? Whatever stories are being told in the real world, I already know damn well I'm not the main character. Why would it be any different with a new writer?
You were the most popular kid in high school, and then as you got older you'd become obsessed with how cool you used to be. Constantly trying to revamp yourself to be cool again, you mostly piss off all your old friends and they call you autistic behind your back. Slowly you become a 2 dimensional parody of your former idealized self. One day as you browse facebook you'll see some little kid you used to babysit, turns out he grew up watching you and decided to try and copy your style. The weird thing is that people think the new kid is awesome, and it utterly baffles you that they don't understand that you're just as cool as he is.
I talk in comical paradoxes all the time and drag out trivial matters into never-ending farces. Also, I do not realize that every male in my life is secretly dropping gay innuendo and are probably all boning each other. Hey maybe this is pretty close to reality.
I become a monster at the cost of preserving the human race
And die a virgin
I'm fucked. But it will be a glorious burning fucked up kind of way.
Well, I either work for a zoo and take care of the animals there, especially the crazy residents of the bear habitat section and get injured at least once a week from their antics, or will be one of the new bears with a sad/tragic backstory like the rest of the bears.
Yeaaah, not a good thing, especially if its option 2.
I used to write before I found out it was one of the main sources of my depression.
Luckily I live in Texas.
Until that fucker decides I move to Maine to reflect the fact that I do actually want to move up north where it's colder.
>I used to write before I found out it was one of the main sources of my depression
Jesus Christ, the book writes itself.
Your best bet is to floor the fucking accelerator and head for California the moment shit gets weird.
You're still fucked though.
Pic so so so so very related.
Best case scenario I'll just end up with a debilitating injury, a sudden love of writing again, and the love of my life.
Worst case I die (or worse), hopefully heroically. I'm holding onto the "I'm the protagonist" angle for dear life here.
I'm either some divine prince/king or a descendant of one destined to do great deeds, or I'm about to be cursed so fucking hard that they'll write songs about how fucking cursed I was for thousands of years.
The Hobbits were descended from what was basically Hobbit nobility, and every member of the Fellowship aside from them was either a king, prince, nobility, or in Gandalf's case a demigod. Tolkien wrote a fuckload about elves before that though, mostly cursed elves. I mean a lot of cursed elves.
Well, I'm already an emotional wreck, but at least I'll be able to sing beautifully and might just come out with some supernatural powers and a loving community of friends
My dialog and that of all my friends will suddenly be 1000x better, and I'll probably get to travel around the country a bit. But yeah, my end will probably be epic gory. And if this motherfucker shows up anywhere near me I'm eating a shotgun.
I never understood this logic of predicting if things in entertainment were going to be "good" or not. It does nothing for you. At all. Except maybe anger. Or hype you up. But if someone is putting this much effort into determining how good something is, chances are they are looking to be as critical and skeptical as possible. Keep in mind, I am talking about trying to see if a movie is good or not, BEFORE IT EVEN COMES OUT.
If you are really going to spend time wondering if some piece of entertainment is going to be "good", you might as well just go play with stocks or something. At least all the effort and analysis might get you some money.
>The man put the shotgun up to his face and hesitated. He was afraid of dying and for a moment that fear outweighed the fear of the man who was coming for him. But that hesitation and he pulled the trigger.
>Despite blowing off the top third of his head, the man was still alive. His one remaining eye shook in its socket. He would scream if his body could remember how to perform such an action. With a major portion of his brain dripping down the wall behind him, the man was unable to understand what he had done to himself. He no longer could remember why he was afraid. All he knew was pain.
It's called determining whether or not it's worth making an investment to see it in a movie theater. If a film looks like it's being acted and casted badly through its trailer, the advert designed specifically to make you want to see the movie, then I'm naturally going to form an impression of what that movie may end up being like.
You think this is supposed to be the result of hard work or some shit. I didn't like the trailers, and am therefore pessimistic of the final product.
Yeah, basic level of getting an impression, sure. See a trailer, talk about it for a bit with friends or something? Hey, alright, good for you. Hours, upon hours of crazy detailed predictions and going rabid over tiny details? Doing this day after day for weeks? No thanks. If people are going that crazy over $10 in the movie theater, then I stick to my previous statement about investing in stocks. At least you'll get more out of it.
I'm now a gay Heroin addict who is about to do some weird, nonsensical, out-of-order shit he can't understand.
And then the Judge walks in to deliver a monologue on the nature of suffering and the human mind, or some shit. I almost picked J.K. Rowling but oh fucking no, can't look like a pleb right?
GUYS... i chose Slott...
I CHOSE SLOTT GUYS.
My life will become increasingly lazy and unhinged, but every adventure will end with COMPLETE AMERICAN HEGEMONY
I FUCKING HATE YOU
I would kill myself, though.
I picked Douglass Adams
I'm really not sure what to think of that
I honestly don't get the hate. By 2 it was clear that the series had basically become 'shooting with text', not a new Bioware RPG series. EA doesn't know anything else but shooting and sports, and it was all EA at that point. I think the end of ME3 actually offered more choice than I expected, and the multiplayer was surprisingly fun. Only thing I disliked was the multiplayer score affecting the campaign.
Really, I think anyone expecting more out of ME3 after playing ME2 should've seen in advance what kind of disappointment they were setting themselves up for.
Either I spend my life sentencing others to cruel and unusual punishments or
I spend eternity suffering at the hands of a demented manchild
>Bryan Lee O'Malley
Guess I'm fine. I think.
Great. Now I have to team up with a bunch of stereotypes to use vaguely defined and poorly understood magic to fight an eldritch abomination that in the end turns out to be not nearly as scary as it was built up to be, and then I'll forget the whole thing ever happened.
Actually, since I'm a fat, nerdy guy I'll probably be written to be an asshole and die horribly.
Dammit I need to stop thinking of Garfield on these things.
One of my friends is gay
>it's already happening
You are going to have some of the best male friendships of all time. But you need to contend with conspiracies and probably talking animals or some other nonsense. Anyway, enjoy the ride.