Games are escapism. You get the chance to be something you’ll never be in real life, whether that’s a superhero, a marine, a raider of tombs or an Italian plumber. In pursuit of escapism from my mundane, somewhat geeky life I entered the world of “the bimbo”. Miss Bimbo is “an online virtual reality social networking game” that currently has over 700,000 registered members, and with the average age being nineteen I was going to be quite an elderly bimbo.
I proudly registered xLibitinax and gazed upon bimbo-me. I’d vainly created her in my likeness (if I was a doe-eyed, long legged hottie that is) and checked my stats. The key is to keep your bimbo happy and increase your “bimbo dollars”, “bimbo attitude” and IQ. You’re given 1,000 bimbo dollars to help you get going and by completing set goals you can rank up. I was rather distraught to discover the first task was to visit the hairstylist to become “a blonde with cool pigtails”. The goth in me died inside at the idea, but off I went to spend some of my unearned dollars and in return completed goal one and gained 30 bimbo points.
I continued to try and work through the tasks but every so often a challenge would pop up. This seemed to involve my bimbo competing against a twelve year old American’s bimbo only to lose. Every time. I’m not sure what the challenges were as it seemed to consist of standing on a stage while the “audience” applauded more for her bimbo than mine. In a huff I visited Nine’s clothing store and dolled my bimbo up with better clothes, I went back to the stylist and requested sassier hair then stopped off in the market to comfort eat some chocolate. I still lost to these legions of children that were challenging me. I thought I’d better focus on ranking up so I could kick their arses. I went to complete the last goal when I encountered a small problem. In order to get job training I needed fifty bimbo dollars. After buying all my different outfits and hairstyles I had only thirty left and to get more it looked like I may have to fork out “real life” money. This game really wasn’t for me so I left, I had failed my bimbo – and we didn’t even reach rank two.
Now I have the daily guilt of email notifications telling me how my bimbo is sick. Day by day she is dying. Her thirst is currently 83% and her hunger 90%. She will never get to visit the in-game plastic surgeon to enhance her chest, she’ll never go dancing at the club or buy a pet. Bimbos can also get themselves a boyfriend so as a last act of kindness I spent my remaining thirty bimbo dollars on “going flirting”. I can now sleep at night knowing xLibitinax is spending her final days in the arms of David Aselof and I can go back to escaping into worlds of zombies or Russian terrorists.
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