Doritos and Gamefly DISMANTLES Depression and Depression-like Symptoms?!?

Updated: Jun 23

I, like many of my video-gamer brethren, bear a burden. It's a cross we carry down every road, across every stream, and up every river: depression. Depression, or as I'd like to call it "the big D", has seamlessly wrapped its wretched tentacles around many gamer-folk, like myself. However, what I myself have recently discovered, and what few gamer-folk realize, is that you don't just have to lie down when life gives you the "Big D". Now, I'm not saying that I have stumbled upon a "cure" for digital-age-big-D-treatment. But you're also not hearing me say that I haven't.


1:00 P.M. A Tuesday: I woke up past noon again. Allow me to rephrase. I woke up at the usual time. My lethargy has leaked its way outside of my skin and into my clothes - - first the underwear. My lack of willpower is now visible. I do not have the fortitude to change myself. I do not have the fortitude to shower. I don't even want to play a video game.


5:06 P.M. Same Tuesday: I laid around for four hours watching videos of other people video gaming. They look like they're having fun. I hope they are having fun.


11:14 P.M. Later that night: I'm bored with all the videos of people playing games. It's time for me to get down to business, but I need fuel. A bag crinkles and a top pops. Cheesy little triangles. Piss orange liquid pep. Buckle your seatbelts kiddos, I got the fixin's of a good time.


2:00 A.M. Friday: I've been gaming for a solid twelve hours now. That's not enough, Fisher. I can go longer. I can go harder. I'm not gonna let life's big D get the better of me.


?:?? Sunday: A fun day. I've gamed for days now. I feel ALIVE! I'm being so productive in my game. I'm gettin' so much done in my game. Trees are cut. Crops are grown. Mouths are fed. Gettin' stuff done is my business -- And business is booming!


1:37 P.M. A Monday: I feel my energy leaving me. It's like my soul is slowly slipping away from my physical self. Just a few weeks ago, I had the energy of one thousand Zebra. Now, I'm not even half a Zebra: I'm barely half a man. I hope it's the half that matters.


Later that same Monday: I begin to ponder the implications surrounding my surge in energy these past few weeks. When did it start? What was the catalyst for my momentary lapse from depression and depression-like symptoms?


2:37 P.M. Tuesday: Just woke up. I dreamt I was a bird singing. Bird-me did nothing else: no flying, no eating, no gaming. Just singing. There was a cage around me - - and only singing.


3:45 P.M. That Same Tuesday: I've got it! I now understand what must be done. My previous surge of energy was no fluke. No, it was destiny. My depression and depression-like symptoms fled my very being immediately after renewing my subscription to Gamefly! At only $9.50 a month (I know, only $9.50 a month!), I was able to freely browse and choose virtually any game I wanted. Additionally, I was under no obligation to return said game in a timely manner. This is because, for the low low price of only $9.50 a month, Gamefly has done away with those pesky late fees that one so often encounters when visiting conventional video stores and locations such as Blockbuster.



4:00 P.M. That Same Wednesday: I still can't get over what deal my $9.50 a month subscription to Gamfly is. Seriously, I just drop the game back in the mailbox after I'm done. It doesn't matter if it was fun. It doesn't matter if it wasn't. The mail lady just grabs the game straight outa the box and replaces it with new game! I sure am glad that I subscribed to Gamefly for $9.50 a month. Now, I can enjoy video games AT MY OWN PACE and with little to no regret about my day-to-day decision making!



4:13 P.M. That very same Wednesday: Elation has filled my veins like a cool, slow saline drip into the arms of a mid-summer, Alabama heat casualty. I need to remain level headed. I cannot let my elation get the better of me. Think. Surely my subscription to Gamfly, for only $9.50 a month, was not the only element for my recent descent, down and away from life's big D. I need to think. A bag crinkles and a top pops.



5:00 P.M. You know what day: It's back! This feeling! I feel alive! And for the very first time, I understand why. I understand. See, it wasn't my subscription to Gamefly, at the low price of only $9.50 a month, that DISMANTLED my chronic depression and depression-like symptoms - - although, this definitely didn't hurt. No, there was a combination of multiple variables that led me to this newfound outlook on life. Something about these cheesy triangle things and this piss-orange liquid pep has ignited the fire once again. Nevertheless, my hypothesis nec3ssitates further analysis.



4:21 A.M. A Few Days Following Last Log: 1've done it! I cr4ck3d th4 code! I am at the height of psychological and physical pleasure, and I kn0w how to contain 1t!! It can be mastered. It wi11 be mastered: Doritos, Monster Energy Drink, and my financially viable $9.50 a month subscription to Gamfly have absolutely, unrefutably, indisputably cured my depression and depression-like symptoms! It can be cured.




So, I'm not saying that Doritos and Gamfly "cure" depression and depression-like symptoms: except for that one time that I said, "Doritos, and my subscription to Gamfly have cured my depression-like symptoms. But, I'm also not saying that they didn't.