Nationality: Reserve Main

Gender: Rattington

Skin color: Red

Main Games: Sitting D2

My Favorite Bullying Target: PackMules and Chads

Favorite thing to do: Toss RGN impact granades


I'm 23 and this game makes me feel like a geriatric old man

Every time I boot this "♥♥♥♥ and ball torture simulator disguised as a game" up I age 60-70 years. I swear my eyes start seeing 144p or something once I make the tragic mistake of subjecting myself to the emotional ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ that is Tarkov. I just went on a raid on woods to try and pitter patter over to daddy Prapor's circus parade float ambush or something? Idk I didn't read the task message. Only a bunch of clowns would get ambushed like that. Anyway I barely take 2 steps and an even older geriatric man fell asleep on his keyboard, and waddles Infront of me. Ezclap. Take 2 more steps and hear WW3 starting near the USEC camp....right where I need to go. Nades and 60 round magazines are a flyin. I think I heard an AC-130 at some point. So I thinks to myself, I'll just post up on this here rock and observe for a while then move in. I sat on that rock for 4 minutes just chilling. Don't see a single thing move, although I wouldn't be surprised if every pmc and player scav on the map walked into my view and I just didn't see them. After 4 minutes, the bush next to me one taps me with 995. First off, dude I have a PACA and ♥♥♥♥ helmet, overkill much? And second, this dude sat there, staring at me, for 4 minutes, wondering how the ♥♥♥♥ I manged to wander out of hospice and get a gaming PC setup to just to support Nikita's juice addiction. Poor guy probably felt like he was executing their braindead grandpa or something.

Took a break for a while, came back and did a run with just an m9 and a single backup magazine, stuffed 3000 rupes into my butt to pay for extract and did a night raid. Booked it from spawn right towards the USEC camp aka gravity well, it seems every pmc spawning on that side of the map is instantly pulled into it. On my way, deadass run straight into two thicc boys. Like I was spooning one of them for a second, I got soaked from the sweat pouring off these guys. I have no idea how I didn't hear or see them until I was nut to butt with what I can only imagine are two TTVs who have been grinding this game everyday since wipe for their 0 viewers. I immediately ♥♥♥♥ myself, not that uncommon for a 90 year old tbh, and start weaving through bushes while reciting prayers from the Bible, Quran, even threw in some dank nasheeds for a second, I guess it worked because I didn't get hit once. I think they spent the entire GDP of Ethiopia worth of ammunition shooting at me. And of course I am fast as ♥♥♥♥ boi with no gear, Chad thundercock and his butt buddy can't keep up, I take a long path and make it to the camp and ambush site with 10 minutes left, scoot over to the Uber driver and get my ass back to this ♥♥♥♥ hole of a barely upgraded hideout. Seriously I only need one more relay to build the ezbake oven so I can cook up some lunchboxes for that fatass Jager but I can't find it, I think they don't really exist and are a conspiracy Nikita made to keep us playing.

I think my grandkids are coming to see me today so that's nice, their dad said if I start ranting about "RMT hackers and Streets of Tarkov release date" they are putting me back in the old people's home.



I used to roll half a bottle of laxative pills into a Crunch wrap supreme and then leave cow pies on peoples door mats. People in my town installed porch cameras to catch the "Phantom S hitter" they said it couldn't possibly be one man, the hits were too frequent and too large. It had to be a whole gang of city punks coordinating and making planned precision strikes. I felt like a god among lesser beings in my town. Every time i was at the local diner and i overheard someone screaming about the black slop they found on their porch i felt powerful and unstoppable. I became too arrogant, started striking during the day. That's when they caught me and strung me up in the streets and hit me with rocks. I barely escaped with my life and i had to leave town. Now after all these years, I'm in a new town and I behave well enough. But I've got this nagging feeling, the urge is back, and I'm starting to think that my new town is about to experience a storm



I saw exactly 1.09441 square inches of a girl's shoulder today. I immediately fell to my knees, as the rush of dopamine signaling my impending earth-shattering orgasm started making me moan loud enough to deafen everyone in the immediate vicinity. What followed was a torrential downpour of every single sperm cell I ever have or ever will produce, shot out so hard that my penis was ripped apart by my übernut accelerating to 5% the speed of light by the time it left my urethra. It vaporized the girl as it punched right through her, barely slowed, before cutting through a structural support beam in the school as if it were a nuclear-powered angle grinder. The sheer weight of this historical nut, combined with the total destruction of everything in its path, caused the school to collapse, and every female in the state of Illinois to fall pregnant with my children. When the final casualty toll was tallied, there were 458 deaths, 1426 injuries, and over 9 million pregnancies.