And when I look back on it, I think of what a mistake I made. I’ve had a hard time forgiving myself and am just now able to look in the mirror and not be disgusted with what I see.

But today, through the power of words, I am here to make amends. To talk through my emotional strife, in an attempt to perhaps find comfort, solace, an understanding. Hopefully my tale of woe can serve as warning to you, the reader. This may not be the appropriate forum for the trail of emotions I’m about to spill, but since I own 39% of this website, I feel I have a right to my caustic flow. I hope my troubles can serve a cautionary tale.

And we begin.

I should have never sold my X-Box.

Hi Nico. I miss you, man.

I miss your caustic Bulgarian wit. I miss doing backflips on a PCJ over the river. I miss taking you through Middle Park and pushing joggers. I miss Roman’s phone calls for 3:00 AM bowling adventures. I miss the rocket launcher. I miss the Vigilante missions. I miss shooting pigeons. I miss your little Russian hat and how it would fall off when you got clipped by a car at Star Junction. I miss buying you boots.

God damn I miss Grand Theft Auto. God damn I miss it so much.

I blogged several times about my trials and tribulations with Grand Theft Auto IV. And now, I can honestly say, as I lay naked on the floor of my bathroom, computer lit only with a small oil lamp and hands clasped around my knees in the fetal position, I was completely wrong.

Look, Bob and I do a lot of drugs. We’re big time sketch comedy writers and we get a lot of play. Ladies, older ladies, dudes… life is our proverbial fishbowl and we try to put our hand in it as often as possible. Cocaine can only sustain you for so long before you crash after a three day binge and find yourself shoeless and with someone else’s blood on your cardigan. And before I got into the white thunder, I had my X-Box. It was my soma. My comfort, my electronic soother.

And I sucked the crap out of it!

What am I left with?  Yeah, the cocaine, but that’s beside the point. I really do miss galloping through the imaginary Liberty City, where I’m but a meager Bulgarian just trying to fight for his meals. In the videogame, I’m not a broke, lonely, cocaine-addicted writer, no. There is no judgement in the world of Grand Theft Auto. Racism, drug use, homophobia, conspiracy, driver-by shootings, rape, incest, treason, violence against women, terrorism, yes.  But judgement? No sir.

I’d like to offer you, the reader, some advice. First, “Carpe Diem”. That’s Latin for “seize the diem”. Live every day like it’s your last.  Second, don’t get caught up with the little things. Relationships, conversations with co-workers, cake baking… all of this is a colossal fucking waste of time. Bypass the bull and go straight to what you love to do. If it’s basketball, go shoot some hoops. If it’s baseball, go shoot some hoops. Do what makes you happy.

I had a third point prepared, but I think I’m going to run a cold bath and cry some more.

Good night, sweet prince. May your dreams carry you into heaven like the wings of a dove.

I have since decided that there are a number of practices and facets of the Grand Theft Auto world that would translate well in to real life.

I present to you the best eleven of sixty-four I was able to come up with.

First and foremost the ability to be shot and killed, only to resurrect seconds later with just a small amount of your money taken as a penalty is certainly something I and other thrill seekers would enjoy immensely. Often times I have looked at a building and wondered, “Could I jump off that not die?”. A no-death law would make every answer to that question an emphatic “yes”.

The same goes for GTA’s policy regarding arrest. As it stands, if you are “busted” for say, shooting an old man in the knees or swinging a baseball bat at joggers in the park, you lose all of your weapons and are fined for a “bribe” for early release. This practice would work double for me, as I carry no weapons for which to confiscate, and bribing a state official has been a dream of mine since I learned about Abscam.

Speeding, running red lights, and other usually ticketable driving offences are ignored by police in the world of GTA. Not only would free reign of the road eliminate the worst drivers (they would be dead within hours of the law taking effect), it would also speed things up for those of us willing to risk our health in order to arrive five minutes early to a dentist appointment.

In Grand Theft Auto, a single elbow smash will destroy a car window. I would like to have this power.

Hot dog carts provide a major source of health regeneration. Think about this. Got a cold? Eat a hot dog. Suffering from Malaria? Eat a hot dog. Cancer? Eat two hot dogs.

I would love to fly airplanes. There’s something about the raw power of a low-flying Boeing that brings out the child in me. However as much I enjoy airplanes, I hate learning. I’m sure figuring out altitudes is difficult, which is why GTA’s simple learning curve of various heavy duty machines appeals to me. In GTA, you can jump in a vehicle and instantly you know how to operate it, no matter what your background. Somehow Carl Johnson, a poor urban teenager was able to fly a jetpack and a F16 airplane no problem. I, a poor rural adult, should be able to do the same thing.

Sleep is something that’s expendable in GTA universe. You “sleep” when you save the game, as time is advanced by six hours. I like this. Instantly, you get six hours of rest, wake up and are ready to go again. No dreams or nightmares about Henry Rollins. Just straight up shut-eye. I could get behind that!

I wish there were hidden packages in real life.

There are no children or pets in Grand Theft Auto. Whether this is due to programming issues or the sheer outcry that would come with the ability to shoot the children with shotguns is debatable, but the fact that there are no cats or people under five foot seven is an absolute joy. I hate kids, and really don’t like to see them in public. Cats also suck. I’m not against midgets or dogs. In fact I’d welcome both into a GTA world any day. But as far as felines and toddlers go no, not needed.

Gas the cats and hide the children until they’re of age.

In previous iterations, swimming was not allowed in the GTA world. This changed with San Andreas, and continues on with GTA IV. I say we revert to the days of old, and make water poison. If you jump waist-high water, you die. No swimming anywhere.

If you don’t like it, you can eat a hot dog.

I curbed my habit in late 2004. I stopped playing altogether to prepare for the rigors of film school, which believe me was tough as Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas had just hit stores. For those of you who don’t know, the Grand Theft Auto series is as close as it gets to ball blasting perfection. GTA3 opened a whole new chapter in the world of videogames, while Vice City a year later Luckily GTA:SA was a clusterfuck of cheesy storytelling and ridiculousness (seemed easy for poor urban teenager Carl Johnson to get hold of jet packs and F16s). Nevertheless, duty called, and I logged back onto SOCOM as soon as I graduated.

As the X-Box 360 launched and my other, weaker friends moved on to harder and harder stuff, I decided to clean up for good. I Craig’s Listed the fuck out of my PlayStation 2, and didn’t look back. Two years pass, and even though I smoke the occasional cigarette and drink like a fish, I have no other serious addictions.

Enter Grand Theft Auto IV.

I could explain my love-affair with GTA3 and Vice City, even my brief fondling with San Andreas, to a degree. I could tell you why I ABSOLUTELY HAD TO HAVE Grand Theft Auto 4. No more, the honeymoon is over. It is ruining my life. I present to you, in pictures:

To summarize: videogames are to be avoided. Smoke cigarettes, freebase cocaine. These are habits that can be controlled. If you find yourself twenty three years old, wandering around a pretend city in search of two hundred hidden pigeons to shoot in the face, maybe you need to do drugs. An Xbox 360 will ruin your fucking life.