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This Little Piggie

I'll admit it.

I'm a sucker for games and electronics. I did the iphone ... the ipad ... Madden ... you name it. I've left a long trail of tooexpensivehotofftheshelf goodforamonthofenjoyment video games in my wake. The latest is an ipad/iphone app: ANGRY BIRDS.

My son ... that stinker ... got me hooked. He KNEW it would drive me crazy and have me staying up all night trying to fling birds across the screen hitting pigs and making screeching noises.

If you think this sounds stupid, immature and a worthless waste of time ... you're absolutely right. And you know what? I do to ... but it never stops me from getting hooked. This game is literally flinging birds in a slingshot across the screen, through wooden, glass and concrete structures at little pigs, big pigs and (I kid you not) pigs with helmets. The fewer birds you need to kill the piggies, the higher the score. There are ... what seems like ... endless levels of difficulty.

It doesn't matter that I don't get paid for winning, I don't get a prize for winning ... in fact I'll never even really win. I just fling these squaking birds everywhere.

My wife doesn't even flinch anymore when I pull out my latest toy. She knows I will be fixated on it for about a month and then end its life in my electronic elephant graveyard (My desk ... or in the case of BIRDS ... my ipad).

I've always been this way. I do it with scrabble, crossword puzzles, gambling ... everything competitive .. with the exception of music and writing (which I'll be manic about in spurts). Debbie is trying to make housekeeping, chores, picking up my clothes and personal hygiene competitive ... so that I could get manic about that.

Not gonna happen.

Women just don't get it ... they just don't appreciate the truly important stuff in life. 


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