I Met Dragon Age: Origins Finally. It’s Ruining My Life.

Somehow a fucking BioWare RPG escaped my notice last year. Or rather, I saw it, and I thought to myself “I can live without playing it.” Even I cannot explain my train of thought sometimes. Well, I fucking got into it lately, and I’ve come to a simple conclusion: my perceived apathy towards it was actually an internal survival mechanism. For after borrowing it from The Dude, I have begun playing it, and the hours have begun to melt away. One hour, two hour, three hours, and I’m sitting in a caffeinated trance, stabbing darkspawn like the baddest motherfucker ever.

It takes a lot to get me to sit down for more than an hour with a video game anymore. Even games that I dig usually have me playing with something resembling restraint. However, not Dragon Age. It’s like Lord of the Rings-themed crack. Straight up the nerd pipe.

I fucking dreamt about it last night. That shit used to be reserved for Diablo II and World of Warcraft. The sound of spells rocketing through my slumber.

Fucking Dragon Age. You gorgeous son of a bitch.