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Monday, July 28, 2014
Wii Killed the Nintendo StarPosted Tuesday, July 14, 2009, at 1:07 PM
I'm contemplating suing the Wii company for the mid-life crisis it has caused me at such an early age. I'm also suing for the physical damage it has done to my entire body.
It all started during a family reunion. We had just finished breakfast and naptime was lurking in my immediate future. My teenage cousins had been playing Wii for the majority of the weekend, and every time they swatted those little remote controls toward the television, I couldn't believe how easy the game world had become. Back in my day, there was nothing 3D about a Nintendo game; there was an uncomfortably square controller and a dinosaur-riding midget.
Cousin Bradley was the first of the adults to take one of those cursed controllers into his hands and begin what I like to call "Death to Your Respiratory System." After watching him swivel and lurch and curse slightly under his breath, I decided he, too, made this look easy. My competitive side kicked in, however, and I began talking smack about his game. Soon I was informing everyone that watching Brad suck at Wii bowling was getting old.
It's times like this I wish I could just shut up.
Brad challenged me. Not to a standstill game of bowling, but to a feel-your-lungs-collapse game of tennis. Tennis. No amount of playing sports in high school could have prepared me for this madness.
Within minutes of playing tennis with these neckless and armless cartoons, I was dripping sweat. My breathing was coming in short gasps. My back was hurting. No one would even let me stretch! Those wireless controllers along with my cousins' twisted humor are the root of this evil. I was "informed" that the more you put your body into it, the more your character moves. Soon I was lurching myself from side to side of the living room trying to make my team player do the same. I was spiraling through the air in an attempt to make my player really reach for the ball. I was grunting and huffing and puffing while my 3D superstar stood there, waiting for me to serve again. I ran full force back and forth while Brad stood in place and watched me make a mockery of myself.
After a few hours of delirium, I thought there were a few times my on-screen Wii contender flipped me off, but I actually attacked the television only once.
The next morning I woke to a crippling pain in my shoulders, abs, thighs and feet. I felt like I'd been beaten with tree trunks and ran over by a mack truck and mauled by werewolves.
Was I really so old that I could no longer play a nice game of pretend tennis without feeling the traumatic aftermath? Shall I begin mobilizing myself in a wheelchair, or strutting behind a walker? (Ah, the irony of a walker with tennis balls on the heels of it.)
My family ended up buying a Wii that weekend. I refuse to install it just yet, though. I've got a few weeks of boot camp to go through before I take on something so crippling as the Wii.
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The Fabulous Chronicles of an Average Bombshell
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Follow the events of a young, single female who just graduated college and is looking for the next chapter to begin. The Fabulous Chronicles of an Average Bombshell looks at what life is like for a young woman in her 20's, living in a small town, who has nothing in common with her friends: she's not interested in marriage, she wants a taste of the city life, and dating is for fun not so much for finding The One.