So it’s 2005. I’ve recently seen F.E.A.R. played on my friend's PC. It looks very, very special indeed. And even better, my friend’s PC isn’t as good as mine, so there’s no way I’m not going to be able to run it. So I buy a copy. And it doesn’t run. It turns out that my rig's specs trump my friend’s in every respect but graphics card. Mine is about as powerful as a piece of toast. Sad times.
So I have two options. I can either take F.E.A.R. back to the shop with my tail between my legs, or man up, invest in some upgrades, and take the full plunge back into serious PC gaming territory. Naturally, I do the latter, and £150, one afternoon of tinkering and 120 frames per second later, we're in business. Was a single FPS worth all of that? Damn right it was. Now listen up and I’ll tell you exactly why.
I’m not a miserable sexist ass; I’m just a practical observer. One thing I’ve observed is that men and women are different (I figured that one out pretty early on). Since I’m a rational person, I’m aware that nothing is entirely one way or another. Even the divide between life and death is ambiguous (uh, zombies, amirite?).