My former boss (Canada) kept a bag of ephedrine bottles in our produce cooler. Dude was twitchy as fuck. Very bird/dinosaur-like.
He would take several per day and chase them with coffee and energy shots. Then he would complain intermittently about vomiting blood due to his ulcers.
It's the warm blend of its cozy art style, ambient audio, and the unparalleled soundtrack. You go through the grandpa intro and observe his strangely thin bed all over again. Then the Jojamart corporate hell scene. You open the letter and reading it even for the fifteenth time gives you an immediate sense of peace and relief, because you know you're going back to the valley. It's all good vibes from here.
The music fades away and you're greeted with a quiet scene in the mountains, watching a grumbly coach bus speed past the sign, and you're left with a moment between you and the countryside. There are a few trilling birds and one lands in the sign. You arrive at your stop and immediately that uplifting little song starts playing and Robin's cute-ass face appears, probably with wood shavings in her bangs, and she still has that voice you crafted for her in your head after all these years. The mayor will too. She's an old friend.
She ushers you away to your first long view of the farm. Now, you've already been here several times in the last decade, but that music. That warm, orangish pallete. That overgrown little cabin on that rugged patch of land. The music grooves on and right away you get butterflies in your stomach over the prospect of getting to be here everyday, cleaning it up and carving your own little life and operation. There is a sense of joy and freedom, and a million possibilities laying under that brush-strewn mess that used to be a field. It never fails to bring you right back and feel that magic again.
It's like the developer perfectly captured our most innocent human desires in a tiny bottle.
Stardew Valley is a beautiful love letter from Eric Barone's soul. I don't want to see it fizzle out either. I'm a straight male but I would marry that man based purely on the gift he gave us.
Should have gone out with the Italian chick instead.
Fallout is excellent.
I miss the classic era of DAoC and still hum various town music to this day. Cotswold being the most recurring.
I remember well the weird period of my life where I worked 12-hour overnights and would stay up for days at a time with the help of Adderall.
Sometimes I smell certain handsoaps in public washrooms and I get flashbacks to those long, strange, strung-out nights.
Worst condom I found was hanging from the handle of an electrical box at my elementary school. We were kind of sort of confused about what it may or may not be, so we did the right thing and prodded it with a stick, causing it to break and spew a soupy yellow mess onto the side of the electrical box.
Bigger, hornier tigers.
They're not looking at you, black hole.. They're looking with you!
I just view the person giving it as trashy. They're like a living Kid Rock album. So bad-ass.