I’m telling you, if I’d worked as hard in high school as I do now on Angry Birds, I’d have been able to skip college entirely.

They say the first step towards solving a problem is admitting there is one. Well, here I go. I’m an Angry Birds junkie. Full on, tap the vein junkie. When Angry Birds first came out a few people showed it to me and it looked so boring that I had no interest whatsoever. Then one day, while fucking off and wasting time with my Minion (my awesome employee at my last job), I played it for a few minutes on his phone. After what felt like 5 minutes, but was more like 19 hours, he was finally able to wrench his phone out of my fearsome clutches. Each time, prior to his phone’s eventual release, when he’d edge closer to my drooling, glassy-eyed self, I’d growl through gritted teeth, “I’ll give it back you when you take it from my cold, dead hands.” Charlton Heston and I make quite the formidable pair. 🙂 He wisely backed away until he had no choice but to risk life and limb in order to retrieve his phone. I only stabbed him once, so I think he fared pretty well.

Since then, I’ve played and played and played until my fingers hurt, my eyes crossed and my patience sapped. Those sonofabitching pigs!!! Why are they such nasty little bastards? Why, when lazily relaxing in a block of wood, can’t they just DIE when they tip over? WHY? Is God punishing me??? 😉

Here are my thoughts on each evil, time-sucking, life-draining version:

• RIO: HATE IT! Refuse to play it. Those damn laughing monkeys can all die in a bath of acid. HATE THEM SO MUCH!
• SPACE: Cannot get enough, though I often want to kill myself while playing it. When I first saw the floating pigs I was all excited. Then I realized that some of them actually run from you. They have artificial intelligence. It FREAKS ME OUT! Then the damn doughnut episode came out and the damn birds could bounce off of little patches of gum or some such crap. Gotta get just the right angle or you’re screwed. Ugh! KILL ME!!!! Little rat bastards.
• SEASONS: I swear, some of the episodes in this were designed by sadists. Pure, unadulterated schadenfreude mo fos. Every once and a while, when I just can’t figure out how to kill the little asshats, I go and watch YouTube to see the solution. Then I try it and it still takes me 200 attempts. And if you know me at all, you’ll know it’s me attempting to get all 3 stars. Screw one or two stars. It has to be 3 or I simply cannot live.
• THE ORIGINAL: Yep, this was the little shit that lured me in. It starts all nice and easy with a red bird and one pig. Now I’ve got 342 kinds of birds, 298 pigs zipping across the screen at once (laughing at me whilst doing so, the little fuckers) and carpal tunnel syndrome.

My hubby and I will sit outside in the backyard, playing one version or another on our phones (which is MUCH harder than playing on a computer) and all anyone who might overhear us would hear would be, (stop reading if you don’t like cuss words!) “Damn son of a bitch fucker! I’m going to fly to Rovio and kill all those whores for ever writing this program! I hope they all die in a shitstorm of, well, shit. Why didn’t their mothers drown them in the tub when they were infants??? DAMN THESE PEOPLE!! ARRRRRRRGH!!!!” Then, when I’ve gotten 3 stars on everything there is to get 3 stars on I say, “DAMN those people at Rovio! Why can’t they churn this stuff out faster? I don’t have any episodes left. What am I supposed to do now? Do you know when the next release is? I need to look it up to see if I can find out. Yeah, there has to be one soon.” All of this is said with imploring eyes and a little spittle caught in the corner of my mouth (icky!).

I’m quite sure that depiction rivals any other kind of junkie. Angry Birds is my smack. There is no doubt about it. I have it on my Kindle Fire, my Nook, my phone, through Facebook. And when my last phone was dying a horrible death I refused to get a new one until I could find a way to back up my Angry Birds games so that I didn’t have to restart them from the beginning. I’m quite sure doing so would have landed me in the looney bin.

After all this confessing and cussing, I think I feel the need to go play some Space to see if I can beat my own high scores. Those pokey puppies at Rovio are taking their SWEET ASS TIME releasing any new levels, so a girl has to do what she has to do–revisit what I’ve already conquered. It’s like when a single girl wants nookie but doesn’t want to add any “numbers” to her growing list of partners. She can just go back to where she’s been before, have some fun, but keep the same count. (Ladies, you know what I’m talking about here!) I’m going to go do the same thing with Angry Birds, though it is slightly less satisfying I must admit.;)