Greetings, all. You may or may not remember me from yesterday's post (rather, a few hours ago because I was struck with inspiration). I'm new here. Having provided a first blog that only sought to introduce myself to the lot of you, I yearned for something more, well, substantial. I want to be a writer, damn it. While sitting at my laptop, I decided - a writer I'll be! Boring introductions are out of the way! The collective bukkake session has ruined my blog's carpet and I'm (hopefully) ready to start sharing some real, gaming-related stuff with you all! Because honestly, that's all I ever talk about anyway.

We all enjoy making fun of horible games, do we not? When there is a title released that is universally bad, it's quite fun to make jokes at the poor little game's expense. Next time, perhaps it will learn not to suck as hard as Lindsay Lohan on a fem-penis. Ouch. Even I found that to be in bad taste. Anyway, it's just plain fun to rag on shovelware and the like. Though it's generally extremely easy to pick out a horrid game from the reasonably subpar (read: Imagine Babies vs. Digimon World Championship), aren't you just a bit curious sometimes as to how far the rabbit hole really goes? Don't you want to see how truly terribad the game in question really is? I admit that I am a bit of a masochist when it comes to these things. I can't just go by what everyone else says. I had to buy Sonic the Hedgehog soon as it hit Platinum Hits for my 360 because it COULDN'T have been that bad, could it? (It was that bad.)

Yes, I have a very high tolerance for shittiness, as buying games on a budget, sifting through the crappy ones but still managing to amass a collection of thousands benefits me. I can't complain about that. My wanting to experience EVERY. SINGLE. GAME. I possibly can before I die is to blame. Today, though, an idea dawned on me. Why don't I take that need to see all of the remnants of gaming cesspools and put it to good use? I'll play a new, reportedly crappy game every week, rotating through consoles every three months, and share my experiences with you all! Only once a week, though - don't want it to eat away at my precious time spent with you know, actual good games? (I could be playing Lost Odyssey right now.)

In short:

[b]1. I play shitty game.
2. You read about it, lulz are had.
3. ???
4. PROFIT!!![/b]

For the next three months, I'll be cycling through a new horrible DS game weekly. AYU ready? I bring you:

Rampancy Plays A Crappy Game - My Boyfriend



Browsing through an available selection of DS games, a title aimed at young girls affectionately titled My Boyfriend seemed like the biggest steaming pile that I could present to you, the Dtoid community. Though simply opening up the box triggered my gag reflex something awful, I truthfully could not wait to see the fail waiting inside the tiny little cartridge. But truly, this game must be made for me, because I have a snatch and the box art doth proudly proclaim it's a "JUST 4 GIRLS" game. It's a good thing I'm one seedy sonnavabitch who doesn't play by the rules, or else this post would have never happened.

Starting this bad boy up, I'm greeting with smiling faces of Esurance girls, and the men who love them. Then, I'm asked to start a new game. No, I don't really want to, but I am braving this game for a reason. I WILL PLAY A TERRIBLE GAME SO THAT A CHILD MAY LIVE! Right off the bat, I enter my name, and am asked what type of person my DREAM GUY is. Apparently, the target audience must not be aiming very high in the romance department, because you are given three choices: musician, athlete, or rebel. Gadzooks! What if my ideal man is a musician who happens to enjoy the occasional game of football? Or what if he is a pro basketball player who wears Tripp pants when he should be purchasing from FootLocker?! After much deliberation, I decided on a "rebel." That seemed like a suitable type after all, seeing as I ultimately did not enjoy this game despite the box announcing that it's JUST 4 GIRLS and that I should. I know, I'm scandalous.

After I chose my dream guy, the screen faded to a strangely pastel-colored, isotopic view of bland pseudo-3D character models. A generic female character (apparently me) was hanging out after school - I'm glad they really know what's hip with kids these days. My "best friend" stands before me, speaking to me with a strangely lesbian slant.

"Tell me what happened yesterday, sweetie! I'm just dying to know!"



Taken aback at my in-game best friend's obvious attempt at coming on to me, I hastily advanced to the next screen of text, which by the way takes up the entirety of both DS screens. Yes, top and bottom, it covers whatever action is to be had in a game titled My Boyfriend. It seems my character has "found her dream guy!" I was so stoked at this news. The game must have been halfway over since the guy had already been found. Advancing to the next screen, my best friend hounds me for more information:

"So did you talk to him?"

Yes, genius. Otherwise, how would I know he's my dream guy? Simply by scoping him out across the gym while I take hasty sips of vodka from a Sharpied-black Big Red bottle? From the way things were going as I peeked at the choice of responses (three, to be exact), no, I didn't talk to him. A selection of three words were available to determine how I answer the best friend. They were, and I quote: "'somehow'...,'shy', and 'no'." I shit you not. They might as well make each option "no" because that's what they all amounted to anyway. Are girls these days such pussies that they have to rely on love at first sight in order to find a lasting relationship? The creators of My Boyfriend think so.

Five minutes into the game, and I was clearly enjoying myself! I went with "shy," as that's the only option that began to make much sense. They couldn't even be arsed to offer complete sentences for response choices. Mass Effect this game is not. After some pointless babble with my lesbian best friend who is secretly more interested in me than my dream guy, it was off to the park to find him. Apparently, I hadn't ever seen him before, either. What, did this fucktard appear in my dreams or something? So, it was off to the park to find Mr. Rebel. Best friend suggested the park, because rebels enjoy fresh air and sunshine.

Navigating My Boyfriend was a lot like playing COD4 on the DS - excruciatingly awful. Poor collision detection, no HUD, no map, and assorted, confusing directions. The bottom screen, used for exploration, offered no hints as to where to go save for a tiny question mark icon. Clicking the icon prompted such useful information as 'FIND YOUR DREAM GUY!'. Right. After wandering about for a good five minutes, I managed to make my way to the park, where surely Rebel and I would meet, copulate, and produce rebel children to pass on the legacy. Disappointingly, however, reaching the park only yielded Lesbo to shriek - "Sweetie, look! He's over there!" The screen scrolled upward and there he was. Mr. Rebel himself, all decked out with long brown hair and nondescript clothing. He looked like one bad mutha-shut-yo-mouth. What? I'm just talkin' bout stereotypes! Figuring the first thing to do was approach this man and give him a lesson in Frenching, I wonkily made my way toward him.

But no! As I clicked on him with a quivering stylus (laughing too hard), a wild minigame appeared! Having been out of Ultra Balls long before that moment, I went with trying to play the minigame. A shitty, time-based game where a heart meter displays certain points of time in green. As a small heart runs over the green portions, it's your job to stop it there as if you were playing some shitty rhythm game. Of course, even if it hadn't been so incredibad, there is no way in hell you could mistake My Boyfriend for a rhythm title. The very same repetitive, almost foreboding track loops over and over during every second of the game. In fact, I'm looping some OC remixes in an attempt to detox myself. Anyway, I passed the minigame with flying colors, as anyone who isn't brain dead could do. I tapped on my man's head again. To my dismay, NOW the game wanted me to collect ten hearts in order to "capture the heart of your fairytale prince!"

No, seriously. I couldn't make this shit up.

I got to work looking for the hearts, assuming it was going to take twenty years to find them, because shovelware fetch quests are usually designed to eat up as much time as possible, but oh wait, there they all were. To the left of my dream guy, all ten hearts were hanging out like stoners in a basement. Right there. Together. Oy. I collected them and flounced off to my man, hoping with all of my heart and soul that he would notice me. He did, oh GOD OF GODS, and we spoke. Given the glamorous choice of these words to use to express myself: pretext, embarrassed, and joy, I chose joy, because boy, was I enjoying this game! ;D After pointless small talk with the dreamboat, I realized that he was an enormous douchebag. He wasn't so sure that we could "hang" because he had to go "do some moves." That's right. He blew me off to go masturbate. WTF?

The day ended after a very uneventful afternoon. The next day, the best friend engaged in a conversation with me about the type of guy the rebel was and how I need to dress like he does, learn about his hobbies, and degrade myself to a few million ends so that I could earn his attention. Because men don't really care about you as person - they just want you to dress like them and parrot every single hobby they have taken up. That's the true secret to dating, girls. You heard it here first.

So I was gonna go along with it. That's right - was. Until I found myself suddenly inside a house. Apparently, the day had ended. My mother woke me up and instructed me it was time to go to school, also calling me "sweetie" an overabundance of times. Exploring the house led me to a random table with a plate of food on it. Approaching it, a loading screen appeared. It was then I took notice of the peculiar dating-sim/virtual pet stylings of the top screen. Seeing as there had been no mention or tutorial about it, I honestly didn't even think about it. I had just replenished my "health" bar. At least, I assume it was my health bar, as the game hadn't even bothered to properly explain that if you don't eat, shower, shit, shave, sleep, and (go to) school, you ROSE. Or raff. One of the two. Oh, now that changed everything. I wasn't just living life for a man anymore. Or maybe I was.

Lesbo called and asked that I meet her at the park to discuss how I can learn more about Rebel's hobbies (conveniently, skating) and how to dress like him so his friends will be impressed by how SUPA KAWAII I became overnight. I spoke to the mom, who wished me a safe trip, and headed out the door, hoping that the next three choice of words I would receive in an exchanged with Assrape McGee would be "go", "fuck", or "yourself."

Halfway down the street, the in-game cell phone rang. It was my mother.

"Where are you honey? I'm so worried about you! Come home! It's so late!"

Mom had gone batshit insane, out of her mind with grief, even though just five seconds prior I had been in the house and explaining my intentions. At this point, with much fervor I flipped the flimsy, terribly made switch on my Lite and declared My Boyfriend a total exercise in shit-shoveling. This game has got to be one of the most inane things I've ever had the displeasure of playing.

In retrospect, I knew from simply looking at the cover that it was going to be an atrocity. Guess what? I was right. Just another half-assed game "for girls" that will rot on retail store shelves until companies realize that no one, not even the most flamboyant of Britney Spears' dancers, wants to play a game called My Boyfriend, let alone one that teaches impressionable youngsters that in order to snag a man, you have to mirror them exactly, and change everything about yourself. I'd rather see them become whores. Still, I could overlook the message if this had any semblance of an actual, decent game instead of some pixellated blast of diarrhea out of the gaping asshole of some corporate bastard who thinks he knows anything about his consumers.

Let's review:

WHAT IS HORRIBLE ABOUT THE GAME
- Looping music, the entire way through. No voiceovers. Nothing. Not even a voice of reason to tell you to stop, drop, and run your ass away.

- This is a SIM that lets you pretend to have a boyfriend. I'll let that sink in.

- Terrible character models.

- This game is called My Boyfriend.

- Minigames are more like "flail on face buttons or touch anything with the stylus and win" endeavors.

- This is a sim that lets you pretend you have a real boyfriend. Did it sink in yet?

- Everything.

WHAT IS NOT HORRIBLE ABOUT THE GAME

- You might be able to customize your character. I didn't care to play long enough to find out, so fuck it - we'll do it live.

- If you are blind, deaf, and dumb, you can still manage to play it and get TEH HIGH SCOREZ.

- This section should really have a big "N/A" stamped across it.

So, guess what! This game was as bad as we thought it would be! Gather any available copies and burn them, or hand them off to naughty children to replace coal in their stockings at Christmas.

FINAL VERDICT

1/10 = shit sucks.

tl;dr: GET A REAL BOYFRIEND.