This game is like knowing you're fatally wounded. You're watching yourself bleed out and all you can do is watch it happen. You're thinking when will I fall into unconsciousness and die? But your death is ever so slow and gradual. It's like just getting your throat cut from ear to ear and you can't scream for help because your voice box was also severed. It's like having your hands cuffed behind your back and to a chair. You're watching Santa attempting to kill you with an overabundance of paper cuts. When will my eyesight go black from blood loss? It's like being chained to the pavement while you're watching a pavement roller flatten you minute by minute. It's being hanged with the rope ever so slowly tightening around your neck and lifting you off the ground. It's like getting curb stomped a million times. It's like being handcuffed to an anchor. You get a boat ride to the very deepest part of the sea and tossed overboard.
It's like being front and center in Jonestown, Guyana watching the Kool-Aid get consumed. Only YOU get to drink the Kool-Aid over and ever again 1,200 or so times....
It's like you're the mother of the little girl in the exorcist who begins beautiful and ends up twisting her head around while jamming a cross into her twat
Ordinarily I'd dismiss this as being needlessly over dramatic. But I'm really not able to at the moment.
This game was like sitting next to bicketybam on a delayed flight that’s been grounded for 4 hours with no air conditioning.
Do not despair; very soon you will be able to selectively wipe your memory of all those painful Jet losses. Of course, this would leave most with no memory of the team at all.
