Sooo, Does Anyone Play This Game?
witch:
I'm not having any problems with TS3, my machine is about 6 years old now and the game itself can't use more than 4Gb of RAM. I can't leave CAST or the open hood, nope, nope, nope.
cwurts:
Wouldn't you know the witch would be a fan of the open world. This, on top of everything else!
witch:
I RULE IT ALL!
And it IS flat.
Sita:
That's nothing new, Spode.
Thing about Sims 3, the thing of it is, it CAN be all flat. Or it can be pointy! Me, I prefer pointy worlds. But Witch has a point too.
GoblinCum:
Aye, I stuck my finger in the pish that is The Sims 4: Because 2 Steps Back, Twice, Equals Four when they offered a free trial. Bombed out like a Dresden maiden on a mixture of Midori and Stolichnaya (a terrible composition I will tell you, but alas I had little else to dull the shakes of alcoholism) I blistered my way through the creation of a marvellously contorted creature that seemed to lack any semblance of humanity while also perfectly encapsulating the all-too-human, poison-induced suffering that rattled inside my booze-addled heart. I don't recall much of the gameplay itself, but I think that sums it all up, really.
When I awoke in a puddle of shattered glass and fine cheese vomit the next morning (late evening) with a headache I had already uninstalled both The Sims 4 in my drunken stupor. Considering the likes of EYE: Divine Cybermancy (a heinously obtuse game with barely a shred of comprehensibility) managed to make impressions on myself in far blacker states of sloshedness I can only suffice to say that the Sims 4 has about the staying power of a flavorless Cheesy Wotsit (Cheeto for you septics) in a torrential hailstorm. I've since had no urge to return to it, even when seeing CC I would much rather use than what's available for TS3.
Even staring into those goblin-eyed nightmares that the Pudding World Generator manages to crank out at a gatling-gun rate, I feel somewhere closer to home than I did touching The Sims 4's install button that first time. The exact opposite of home, it felt like a childhood soujorn into a motorway siding in the mid-2000s, before smartphones; astricken by the slave-driver nature of childhood, all one had to occupy themselves with was sit there and stare at cars flying by like the proverbial Flying Dutchman, hoping the majesty of a warm, toy and video game filled home would arrive soon. Neither distressed enough to bawl, nor entertained enough to grin, a true purgatorial state of absolute, complete, NOTHING.
I'll also say that pouring a liter of raw ethanol into my body was less toxic to my cells than clicking "Install" on the Origin launcher. What a pain in the arse.
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