10 long years.

That's how long I was with.. her. The love of my life. She had a slender, but soft figure. She was my support through all those long hard days. Sometimes I'd fall asleep in her arms. We were best friends, we worked together. Sometimes, when we were happy, we'd just spin around in circles. She was fun but classy. I'd even say 'executive', but still knew how to roll. A smooth ride if you get me. We had some wild nights, man. Sometimes I can remember those sublime days, just blastin' some Huey Lewis on my Marantz 2600 as I felt her perfect embrace.

Her name ...was Nightingale.

Her full name was the Nightingale IC2 7300D Series Ergonomic Executive with ENERSORB™ seat foam.

And I had to leave her.

You see, My cat, Blimpy, must have gotten tired of sh*tting in the oven burners, and instead used its litterbox muscle to drop an atomic fudge dragon on her NEBULA™ non-see-through mesh seat. Blimpy also managed to somehow get some turkey droppings in her slow-release, pneumatically assisted, infinite tilt lock, synchronous GALILEO™ tension control switch. Like, every time I lean back or make an adjustment its just a bunch of squishing noises and the smell of decaying Juggalo dinner.

Apparently, Blimpy is a savant; godd*amn MacGyver when it comes to destroying luxury orthopedic office furniture.

I had a hole in my heart after that day. I spent the next 4 years in a downward spiral, it was a blur of online dating and clandestine parking lot encounters with lawnchairs, stepstools, squatty potties, rocking-chairs, metal "foldeys", Windsors, ladderbacks, lazy-boys (thanks for nothin'), recliners, directors seats (didn't get the part), tubs, eggs, wingbacks, slippers, Bergere's, clubs, bing-bongs (don't ask), occasionals, futons, parsons, slippers, barrels-bores, hammocks, and even a old rickety boat-captains' chair that surely had dredged up from a soddy estuary, because I'm still salty.


Its been a long, hard road. For ages I've felt used and alone; each day was an encroaching cloud of abyssal solitude. No-one understood my misery... that is until July 7,2020. That's the day it all changed. That's when the common man could taste a fraction of my life, my experience, my journey.

That was the day Chair F*cking simulator was born.

Buy this game. Plow your way to the top. Imbibe on its fruits and feel its power surging through you, from your pruned up fingers to your tailbone. Live as I lived. Taste what I have tasted. Someday we will find another Nightingale, but not tonight. Tonight I'm going to f*ck a skunky trashcan in a derelict parking garage and so can you.

10/10