The Urge To Cut Off My Family And Get Top Surgery And Legally Change My First And Last Name And Move

The urge to cut off my family and get top surgery and legally change my first and last name and move to a small town somewhere cold where I can live comfortably off the royalties I make as a writer and do watercolors of birds in my free time and go to local coffee shops and have a extensive flannel collection and

my favorite bit of "rich people are Like That" ephemera that I picked up from my Russian literature binge was from a noble character who was complaining about his serfs neglecting their duties, specifically the duty of staying up all night long slapping the pond water in order to prevent the frogs from croaking so that the nobleman could enjoy his sleep at his country estate with its adorable pond. whenever I hear wealthy people's complaints in this day and age the majority of it automatically filters to "the fucking serfs won't slap the pond anymore and it's honestly so destructive and cruel of them to deny me my beauty sleep like this" type statements

WHAT?!?!?!?! NOOOOOOOO

you’re laughing. tumblr account firefox-official got deactivated and you’re laughing.

Bath Time

Red Dead Redemption 2 was so real for creating the most in-depth, realistic clothing system I've ever seen in any game, and exclusively using it on burly, unhygienic men.

You choose every layer, every accessory, with dozens to hundreds of each to choose from. You can go in and fine-tune minute details like whether or not to roll up the shirt sleeves, or button the collar, or whether to wear your pants under your boots. These clothes get dirty in real time depending on what you do in the game. Mud, dust and blood linger unless washed off. Every garment has a warmth rating based on its material, and the game calculates what temperatures an outfit is suitable for based on the combined total. Dressing too cold or warm for the weather causes health debuffs.

You can choose which way he parts his hair, and whether he gels it. If you eat too much he gets bulkier and gains a double chin, and if you eat too little he can go underweight and get all bony and sallow. Both of these states come with stat changes. His hair and beard grow in real game time, and you need to routinely style and shave his facial hair if you want any style other than a full Santa. You need to bathe him regularly or people will start commenting on his BO, and he'll start visibly appearing filthy long before that. He sunburns in the sun, and in the heat he becomes slick and glossy with sweat.

This shit is IN DEPTH. It blows the customization systems of actual fashion-centric games like tf2, Monster Hunter and Splatoon out of the water in every regard. They honestly look basic in comparison. It's a paradigm shift for sure once you experience RDR2's level of customization. Everything else starts to feel smaller.

The player character all this customization is applied to, and I simply cannot stress this enough, is a 29 year old, 6'3" smoker weighing well over 200 pounds, with facial hair thicker than a sheepdogs, forearms like gnarled tree trunks and a dark, dense forest of body hair covering every reasonable surface. His skin is pocked and marred with scars from a rugged, nomadic lifestyle, and his teeth are the colour of cornbread. He has a thick southern accent, is a known mean drunk and knows how to skin pretty much any North American animal. He has never worn deodorant, flossed or moisturized. He eats canned beans, fruit and the like by simply pouring them into his mouth and gulping, often while walking or riding a horse at full gallop.

I can think of NO better use case for such customization. Not some fresh-faced little twink, not some busty anime babe. Just a gross, hairy, unwashed homeless dude with crippling self esteem issues and a chest broader than a barrel laid lengthwise. A non fashion-centric game, certainly a non-fashion centric character, but for some reason the best clothing and customization system ever concieved, bar none. What the fuck.

You rn

woah mamma they put me in tha orb