A Day in the Life of a “Gamer Girl”

Let’s pretend for a moment that all of the “Gamer Girl” stereotypes were true. What would that woman look like? What would her life be like? What would she do with her time?

2:00 p.m. – Wakes up from naked and restful sleep

2:15 p.m. – Showers, obviously assisted by woodland creatures, anime chicks, or random strangers from the internet (choose your own fantasy!)

2:45 p.m. – Puts on garter belt, fishnet thigh highs, and corset: “Look ma, no panties.”

2:59 p.m. – Walks into door frame because she can’t see without her glasses.

3:00 p.m. – Logs into game, hoping that someone, anyone will volunteer to play it for her in exchange for pictures of her in that schmexy outfit.

3:02 p.m. – After finding a poor man to take advantage of, using her feminine whiles, begins taking selfies with controller covering vagina, controller in mouth, licking controller, sitting on controller, tangled up in controller wire.

4:00 p.m. – Turns on Twitch live-stream, gets 30,000 viewers because she has her webcam on.

5:00 p.m. – Checks that character is still on auto-follow, responds to all offers for free items and gold which accumulated while AFK.

5:02 p.m. – Uploads selfies to Reddit for free karma.

5:15 p.m. – Engages in ERP with the creepy *insert class or race here* who sent her a dirty private message.

7:00 p.m. – Convinces unsuspecting victim to order her a pizza and volunteers to tank a raid while waiting for said pizza.

7:01 p.m. – Agrees to heal after logging onto ventrilo/teamspeak/mumble/skype and raid members hear she’s female.

7:05 p.m. – Lets tank die because she is distracted by painting her nails or sucking on a nearby controller.

7:06 p.m. – Rages in ventrilo/teamspeak/mumble/skype about how unfair it is to blame the healer every time the tank dies. “Obviously the tank needs better gear.”

7:10 p.m. – Privately flirts with raid leader in order to keep raid slot.

7:30 p.m. – Tops healing charts; obviously using witchcraft.

7:35 p.m. – Gets kicked from raid for hacking.

8:00 p.m. – Pizza arrives. Snorts pizza through left nostril because 400 pound women can do that.

8:01 p.m. – Seeks attention in trade chat by advertising vagina.

8:02 p.m. – Gathers more free loot because boobs.

8:03 p.m. – “Girls don’t play ___”; “She’s probably really fat”;  “Look at the little virgin trying to get some action by pretending to be a girl”; “Will you marry me?”; “Get back in the kitchen and make me a sandwich”

8:04 p.m. – Calls police to handle the large crowd of men who have gathered on her lawn to witness “The Perfect Woman.”

9:00 p.m. – Skype-date with in-game boyfriend. Lots of cosplay.

10:30 p.m. – Breaks up with in-game boyfriend because he’s become too clingy.

12:00 a.m. – Receives 107 Tweets, 79 text messages, 50 emails, 3 video messages, and 1 package from ex-in-game boyfriend who wants her back.

12:30 a.m. – Dyes hair a different shade of brown.

2:00 a.m. – Notices ex-in-game boyfriend lurking on lawn with a boombox over his head.

2:05 a.m. – Calls police.

4:00 a.m. – Is told by police they can’t do anything because they don’t know what a Twitter is, and they have no idea why anyone would want to use the intermesh.

5:00 a.m. – Dies when murdered by lurking ex-in-game boyfriend-turned-stalker (after he rapes her).

9:00 a.m. – Is blamed for own rape and murder because women don’t belong on the connectiwebnetintermesh.

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