bitorrrrr.. bitorrrrrr

Recently, I talked to a girl about Rocket League at a gaming meetup. It did not go well.

She straight-up asked me: “Hey, what rank are you in Rocket League?”

Upon hearing this question, my heart tightened. I began to have an intense panic attack and almost choked. So I gave my response: “Y-you know, kind of… in the middle? Not too high, not too low?”

Her eyes sparkled for a moment, and I caught a small flash of excitement. “Oh? Like Platinum? That’s a solid rank!”

I immediately tried to explain. “N-no. Wh-” “Ah, then Diamond? That’s impressive!” “No, not that either—” “Champ? Grand Champ? Are you SSL?”

At this point, my head was already buried in my chest. I dared not even lift my head up. I was already sweating bullets, and the atmosphere was so awkward my twitching feet could almost penetrate a hole through the meetup venue flooring.

“You’re Bronze, aren’t you? That’s… rare, but respectable.”

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+rep hes better at csgo than you lil bro

it seems to be sticky, and everywhere... *gulp*

All of these miles on this Chevy and prayers in a pew.

All them days I spent wasted on you
wasted on youuuu.