All I wanted was to kill a few hookers

Dear Rockstar Games,

I am an ardent fan of your Grand Theft Auto games. My favorite, Vice City, still keeps me entertained on those cold, lonely nights. I will roam the cities you have created for hours, picking up prostitutes, killing cops and criminals and civilians and generally sowing mass hysteria, whether it's with a minigun, a rocket launcher, or a good old fashioned chainsaw.

The previews for your newest release, Grand Theft Auto IV, were oh so pretty. I had to have it! But no, you like to tease those of us superior gamers who use computers instead of consoles. I glared angrily at people who bought it for the PS3 or the Xbox and waited for the PC version to come out. And waited. And waited. And waited.

Finally, the day was here! I sat by the mailbox eagerly until the UPS man arrived. Tearing the package open, I was giddy with anticipation of a night of murder and mayhem. I installed the game, choosing to ignore the horrible DRM and requirements of restrictive registration and activation, and prepared for nirvana.

Yet, here I am, four hours later, writing a blog post instead. Why would that be? Oh, maybe because Rockstar Games is one of the shittiest companies on Earth? Why would you release a game that is so buggy that fully half of the people who bought it CANNOT GET IT TO PLAY? Can you imagine if GE made a stove that didn't actually heat, and then had to send out a repairman with a new part to every single home that had to be installed first? Or what if you ordered a pizza from Domino's but they didn't include the sauce, and you had to wait on hold for an hour to get someone to give you a coupon to get sauce next time? Would either of those companies still be in business? Fuck no. And neither should you.

You motherfucking impotent ass-faced nut-chomping four-flushing shit-eating jizz-mopping spineless cunty oozing sores of humanity can get your pathetic worthless bung-munching pimple-squeezing crackhead incontinent asses in line to lick my sweaty, hairy, salty taint.

Sincerely,

Adam Heath Avitable

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