Trap-bolting yourself in the face.
Just……trap-bolting yourself in the face.
I don’t have a single “harvesting” achievement……
……Because I can’t bring myself to do it.
Ever since playing Bioshock, every time I ask anyone for anything, I start by saying “Would you kindly……?”.
It’s become like rinsing my plate after eating; I just instinctively do it.
Part of me REALLY wants to know what the Big Daddy pheromone smells like.
Part of me REALLY DOESN’T.
I’ve seriously always wondered……
Why the hell was Albert Milonakis invited to Rapture? Those must have been some damn-good hamburgers.
If I hadn’t been beaten over the head with the fact that Sander Cohen was an artist while playing through the first game for the first time, I would have though he was a magician.
Houdini ain’t got shit on me.
I’ve always had a fantasy about Julie Langford and the bee lady, Tasha Denu, having a deep, emotional past filled with intrigue, love, deception……and bee enzymes.
I think they’d be adorable together. Not sorry.
(Insert horrible pun involving “beeing mine” here)
BIOSHOCK CONFESSIONS, No.4
My first reaction to the Circus of Value machines the first time I played the game:
When I watched Jack take his first plasmid, I didn’t feel sympathetic or bad for him because he seemed to be in so much agony……I got superbly mad at him for throwing himself over the balcony for some reason, even after Atlas told him to stay calm.
Not only do I like to get Jack drunk, I always talk like I, myself, am as well, especially to all the splicers who attack me.
I always feel like shit when I have to kill the Pigskin splicers in the first Bioshock. Poor kid……
……Then I don’t feel quite so bad when they try to murder me.