Candy Crush (My Will to Live)

Today’s topic, boys and house-keepers, will be about the addictive game Candy Crush.  Most everyman knows this game, whereas literally every woman knows this game for sure.  At least on my Facebook they do.

Now, if anyone ever read the Space Boner, they would tell you that I have written about video games in the past.  Usually, there is some appealing, or nostalgic motivation that makes them stand out, but unlike those games Candy Crush stands out for its sheer aggravatingly addictive traits.  It’s the game your mom plays…  and all of her friends…  and all of her friend’s friends…  and all of those people on your Facebook you met once but added each other anyway and now seven years later, they live somewhere in Europe, all their statuses are in a foreign language which totally annoys you but you won’t remove them due to your issues with abandonment.  You all know what I’m talking about, right?

Significant status updates and pictures of your friends babies now come second to Candy Crush invites and your Great Aunt’s requests for more lives.  Damn game, what happened to the life I HAD before I started playing you!?

My life vest is under my t shirt FYI

Facebook has never been all that free from people flooding your timeline with game requests like that chick from high school you stopped talking to after she had all those kids needs you to send her crystals so she has something to do other than look for a job, or “Jimmy, the creepy guy you used to work with, needs gas for his tractor.  Click here to give him fuel and a touch of social acceptance in hopes that he doesn’t off himself!”

“Sure, what can be the harm in one little click? Wait, what… hold on! Ahhhh, sonofabitch.”

On that note it took a special kind of garbage to dethrone the immensely popular piece of digital shit know as Farmville.

How it did this I don’t know, but I presume that it was a result of its fan base growing up, or the government’s decision to remove the internet from halfway houses.  Regardless, it fell from grace and has now been upstaged by something else.

In the event that maybe just one of you aren’t familiar with what Candy Crush is I’ll warn you.  First off, you can’t escape it.  You can’t possibly avoid it.  If you have 5 friends, 6 of them play it.

The game follows two characters.  One of the stars is a tall lanky guy dressed like an Usher to a windowless van, and some little girl he is “showing to her seat”.  Or maybe she’s a stray, I don’t care.  I think you play as the pedophile usher and the goal is to match up candy in rows of 3, 4 and 5 until the girl falls in love with you.  The more you line up the more points and other candy you are rewarded with in a ploy to keep you playing longer.  Ironic, considering that when you fail a level, and trust me, you will fail, repeatedly, you lose a life.  On top of the one you lost when you joined the ranks of Candy Crusher’s.  Alright, so you’re down a digital life, and now you have to wait 30 minutes to get it back.  You get no more than 5 lives.  You can harass your soon to be ex friends to send you more lives to speed things up, but seeing as how they are all a higher level than you, you can no longer be their friend.

Those are tears of joy for the record.

In review.  A soulless Ginger has kidnapped some kid, or maybe the other way around, I don’t judge, leaving it to you to sort candy.  Sounds easy, but no, this game was made to be about as hard as humanly possible.  During testing original versions of the game were said to be so hard that players broke down so hard that they were too dead to spend money on it anymore.  The challenge of this game is so daunting that it was as though the father of the little girl was tasked with making a game for the Red Headed Rapist to play in prison with the sole intent of driving him to hang himself in his cell with some radio wire.

Anyway, each level has a challenge, which gradually get harder as you “progress” and every level has three tiers of points, each tier nets you a star which I devoted days, even weeks, trying to earn like an asshole.  For literally no reason.  They’re aren’t worth diddly shit so they’re a total waste of time, unless your goal is to prove to all your Facebook friends via your high score that you’re a gigantic loser.  Just go on my Facebook and take a look!  I have more stars in the first hundred or so levels than anyone else on my friends list!  While you’re there send me some lives.

Eventually, after I forced my standards so low that it put NPX to shame just to finally beat a level, KING, the heartless Candy Crush spawn lords, release another 40 levels!!  That’s like your family holding an intervention at a pub, and then picking you up from rehab in a party bus, stopping at the “Welcome Back Liquor Store” then taking you out for beers.

At current count this digital curse has almost 450 levels as of this writ… oh, hold on, they just released an update.  Make that 5…  shit, another update.  550!  ANOTHER update.  Fuck me, 575.  In the time its taken me to write this next blurb, 1 homeless Canadian will die due to exposure, 10 will die due to drunk driving, NPX’s heart will have beat over 400 times at rest and Candy Crush will have released 50 more levels.

Even after my therapist, psychologist, and counselor said I had to give up chasing three stars I found that just beating a fucking level got to be so hard that the ratio between “new levels” and “my barely getting by without going full-blown alcoholic” rose 50:1!  Those odds are worse than a Paul Walker Oscar win.

Paul Walker
Did he make this after he died?

If that paints a pretty dark picture about this game and the headache that surrounds it, then imagine my dismay when they introduced the “dream world”.  A whole different world of Candy Crush that really serves no purpose other than to give you a bunch more stupid levels for you to play for 5 minutes every 2 and a half hours.

It’s bad enough the hurdles this game put in front of you, but this dream world literally takes the cake.  Whatever evil genius that put this together really deserves a hand…

...driven sideways up their ass
*said hand* sans glue and glass shards


Dream world is essentially the same pile of shit.  Sort candies, earn points, fail level, try again, fail some more, followed by more failure, wait 2 and a half hours for more lives, then repeat.



The only difference is the Satan of this world is a feathery hangover named Odus.  Odus is a flightless, sleep at night, Vertigo riddled Owl.  He sits perched on his little half-moon with a colored piece of candy along its side.  Group too many of these candies, and that fucking idiot falls off and you fail.

... :|
I bet you know how to fly too you fucker…

One final spirit crushing move by this game is that they make it SO hard that it just can’t be beat without luck or the mind of Stephen Hawking’s magical talking chair.  Of course, being the hero’s that they are, King will always be there too offer you those precious moves you need, or a couple lollipop hammers to smash those final bricks taking you to victory.  For a buck.  A frigging dollar.  If I had taken them up on this crap I would be in the hole about 2 grand by my low-balled estimations.  Bright side though is, you could always hit your friends up for lives…

…or staple your dick to your leg and run a marathon.

Pretending to text.
The owl is my only friend.
No one sees me cry 😥

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