Dear Esther. I have been holding down my W key for quite some time, drifting over this barren landscape of chickweed. “Look”, wrote Ivor Cutler, “some chickweed”. “Look”, he also wrote, “some more chickweed”. One day I pray I will not have to hold this W key with such passion.
Dear Esther. Wish I had used the toilet which was first offered to me in level one. I am jealous of Duke Nukem who was able to relieve himself with great gusto and relish at the start of his game. He also got to look in mirrors … and other things. I would settle for being able to see my legs. Kick things.
Dear Esther. Please send more glow in the dark paint, as I seem have kicked mine all over the place at some point when drunk. Or what ever you do when you have no arms or legs and float around. I must have eaten a flashlight and each time I open my mouth it makes a perfect circle on the opposing wall.
Anyway as I was saying to Paul the other day you really are the worst driver and he didn’t argue just put on that prissy little face he always pulls whenever you mention something at all pointed about him and his completely ditsy habits. He gets it from his mother I swear. She was a big jelly roll of a thing I just don’t how he ended up with such pinched little hips and …
… well pardon me. It’s probably his fault I have go wombling over this incredibly tedious chickweed infested rock holding my urine and hold this abominable W while looking for Damascus or some other blob of pixels. Well I don’t see you helping at all. Fine, be like that.
And if that’s you playing the piano how about something a bit cheerful FFS?
Look, a smashed up boat. Instead of being rock and chickweed, it’s rust and chickweed. This is all my birthdays at once.
Dear Esther, if you huff the paint it makes your voice go up like Donald Duck. This sounds much better than the BBC news voice I had before. Listen:
Climb every mountain, Search high and looooooow, Follow every byyyyyyyway, Every paaaaaaaaath you know.
Still sulking? You are. Well I’m sulking more, because I apparently hurt my leg and found some medicine for it and all of that without seeing a single bloody moment of it. Or having any arms to do it. You know what happens when I push the fire button? I lean gently towards whatever chickweed I happen to be looking at. I could probably cut the damn leg off and still float…
It’s like I fell into someone’s anus and it’s full of candles. Now how the hell did somebody come down here and set up a bunch of candles? Looks like the Body Shop. Except inside the body.
You know, this would be the perfect place to hold a successful corporate or business event. We could have glow in the dark paint ball for corporate shadow people. I was reading other people’s opinion pieces on this game and quite a few mentioned shadow people. And that got me thinking (really, may as well float here and think as much as move on, I really don’t look forward to (spoiler) being turned into a seagull) how shadow people have hats. How does that work? You’re some kind of demonic floating shadowy thing and you wear a hat? To keep off the ghost rain? Supposedly there’s all kinds of shadowy people to be seen in the corners of this game but I ain’t seen one of them.
Actually I think corporate glow paint ball with shadow people would be a real plus for this title. Or a game based around Shadow People VS Libertarians. I would give that an arts grant. I would give that an arts grant so hard.
When attempting to explain H H to co-workers, they will sometimes say – oh is it like Dear Esther? I get tired of saying YE GODS FUCK NO, so I have found a picture that explains the difference instantly.
Right there is the difference. If you can understand that – then you are in for a GOOD TIME.