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It's not that the game is addicting, it's just that there are no decent alternatives. War Thunder is basically the intellectual version of the FPS games that all the stupid children and mongoloid brains play. Instead of just being based purely on twitch "skills" which require as much intellectual ability as closing popup spam windows, in War Thunder you have to use at least some tactics and strategy. FPS games are like playing Pong on high speed. War Thunder is like playing chess. The art of gaming is simply dead for big brains. 20 years ago there were tons of games that required brainpower because PC gaming back then was by nerds and for nerds, but then the corporate suits took over and were like "broaden the appeal to we can make more sales" so everything got dumbed down to the lowest common denominator. My GF asked me if I was "having fun" playing War Thunder, and I looked at her like she was a fucking retard to even consider that sentence a valid question. I don't have FUN playing War Thunder. This game routinely pisses me off and makes me rage. However, when I stomp the entire enemy team and crush them so utterly I can hear the lamentations of their mothers, I feel satisfaction. I spent weeks grinding for Operation Winter. The vikings had a word for this. They called it Valhalla. Endless war. Endless combat. Knowing only victory and death. Bathing in the blood of your enemies. You get 15 kills and bask in glory and rewards, and think: what should I do now? Should I get in my Honda Fit and tour the local strip mall for my Triumph? Should I microwave some tendies and throw myself a great Feast? But there is only one option. There is only ever one option. To Battle! Various cultures have alternatively described the gameplay loop of War Thunder as their vision of Heaven or Hell. It is both.

So I (M 23, black), was walking around my house(2 story) and decided to check how my son (M 14) is doing. I walked into his room(Non binary, Bedroom, 89) and saw him(M 14) screenshotting an nft(red skin, ushanka, lasers from eyes)!!! I (M 24) Immediately (1 year) punched him (m 15) in the face(chipped 2 tooths, minor bruises, broken nose, bleeding from mouth). Unfortunately, my spouse(M 35) came into the room(Bedroom, 90) and called the police(racist)! I punched him(m 35) until his body (White, racist) cracked(i was satisfied, i am bonebreakigender) with an unpleasant sound. Then, two policeman(Racist policeman, M 21, and a policetranswoman F 31) came into my house(2 story) without hesitation(1 year) and locked me(M, 24, black) in a police(racist) car(Ferrari limited edition). Now i(M 24, black) have no one to talk to(prisoners). So, Reddit. AITA?

There's no reason to have a Dad Bod when push ups exist. I'm always finding time to crank out a few p-ups. Ahh yep, I do maybe a thousand p-ups a day and I'm a father of two. Those nerds coloring with crayons? Time to squeeze in a few p-ups. Little dorks eating mac and cheese? It's p-up time. I'm like a leathered marble statue of a really muscular guy, my muscles are so tight and rugged. Hell, I took a p-up break while typing this comment. The ladies at work, these little work ladies, love when I crank out p-ups right there in front of them and come up off the floor red faced and with a sizeable bulge in my slacks. That bulge is unrelated to the p-ups, by the way, I'm just a guy who's always one hard nipple poking through a shirt away from a full meat platter. Hell, I'd cheat on my wife with one of these little work ladies if she wasn't one of the little work ladies I work with. We bone in the bathroom. I get jacked on p-ups and then we bone in the bathroom and there's nothing my boss can do about it because my vascularity is way too intimidating. I tell him he should do some p-ups if he wants to fuck my wife. It's the only way she gets that slizz juiced and loosed. She wants to see multitudinous p-ups and she wants to see those p-ups now! Whoops! Haha, okay, looks like she's watching me type this over my shoulder. Uh oh. See ya later, nerdbags. I'm gonna p-ups myself up to a full plumper and pump that honey ham rump of my little work lady wife.

When I was 8 years old, I was searching for apps that were like Talking Tom. I found one that was called “Talking Roby The Robot”, I was curious so I downloaded it and installed it. I played it and I enjoyed every single second of it. I was a big fan of Roby. But when, it was 3 AM, my mom was sleeping so I now could use the phone without mom knowing, Tried the text to speech feature and typed the words “sing like dick”. The robot said “sing like dick”. I almost laughed too hard after seeing that. I recorded it and uploaded it to YouTube. after uploading it, I heard The Exorcist theme playing in the living room radio. I was shocked, I couldn’t move, and then Roby himself came out of my closet and said “sing like dick”. I was crying in fear, “is this a nightmare?” I asked. Roby said “no”. I was scared, this was real all along? And then Roby bled at me with hyper-realistic eyes and said: “666”. I was crying, and then he disappeared. My life has changed after that moment. Don’t install Talking Roby.

So me and my bros wanted to once and for all test the hypothesis that we are all living in a matrix. We came to the conclusion that a matrix could only run so smoothly because of our predictable behaviour. For example, if you eat it is likely that you swallow your food. Therefore, the matrix would be ready to initiate a digestion program. But if a group of people did something unpredictable, the matrix would shut down. So what we did is we randomly started gang banging each other. The matrix could have never predicted that because that is like super gay. But nothing happened (matrix-wise). But this is not point why am I writing about this. My friends now want to do the gang-banging shit again and I am not sure how to respond to that.

So me (69m) and my friend (69m) were at waffle house (7300 Innerplan Dr, North Little Rock, Arkansas 72113-7645, US) and were discussing funerals (6-9k). I mentioned that since I will be attending his funeral (approx. 2032) that it would be impudent for him not to turn up to mine (approx. 2036). Long story short, this lead for him to swing a naughty haymaker (right) directly aiming for my jaw when I rapidly dodged and gave the cheeky cunt a swift uppercut (broken nose). He is now hospitalized (critical condition) and I am now currently evading law enforcement (on foot). My family (69f wife, 54m son, 69f wife) have been trying to contact me but I keep telling them if I ever see that punk again, I will give him a little combo (right hook, left hook, headbutt then roundhouse kick). If he is still moving I will stomp on his head until he is a little red smear on the bottom of my boot (black timberlands). I know I’m right but I feel as if I may have overreacted a tiny bit (not too much) AITA?

She sells seashells on a seashore But the value of these shells will fall Due to the laws of supply and demand No one wants to buy shells 'cause there's loads on the sand Step 1: you must create a sense of scarcity Shells will sell much better if the people think they’re rare, you see Bare with me, take as many shells as you can find and hide 'em on an island Stockpile 'em high until they’re rarer than a diamond Step 2: you gotta make the people think that they want 'em Really want 'em, really fuckin' want 'em, hit 'em like Bronson Influencers, product placement, featured prime time entertainment If you haven’t got a shell, then you're just a fucking wasteman Three: it's monopoly, invest inside some property Start a corporation, make a logo, do it properly "Shells must sell", that will be your new philosophy Swallow all your morals, they're a poor man's quality Four: expand, expand, expand Clear forest, make land, fresh blood on hand Five: why just shells? Why limit yourself? She sells seashells, sell oil as well Six: guns, sell stocks, sell diamonds, sell rocks Sell water to a fish, sell the time to a clock Seven: press on the gas, take your foot off the brakes Then run to be the president of the United States Eight: big smile mate, big wave, that's great Now the truth is overrated, tell lies out the gate Nine: Polarise the people, controversy is the game It don't matter if they hate you if they all say your name Ten: the world is yours Step out on a stage to a round of applause You're a liar, a cheat, a devil, a whore And you sell seashells on the seashore