I used to have a pretty decent life, Raven Alexis.

I worked at a telemarketing service. The job was terrible and the pay mediocre, but I made enough money each week to feed myself, pay rent, and play video games. On weekends I would treat myself to a stupid action movie at the mall and stay up until four in the mornings lying in my comfy bed, reading Onion anthologies.

The friends I had were the ones left over from high school, as well as a few that I met on World of Warcraft. We didn’t go out much, except to play volleyball in Mitchwood park in the summer and Settlers of Catan at my brother’s house in the winter.

All in all, life was simple. I had everything I needed. But, of course, like a lot of men with freedom on their hands, I fooled myself into believing that I was missing the key ingredient to a healthy adult lifestyle: a woman.

That’s when I read your Kotaku article.

I’ve never been good at picking up women, Raven Alexis. In fact, all my “girlfriends” have either been friends of friends or ones that I’ve met through dating sites.  I’ve certainly never been with a girl as beautiful and as intelligent and as industrious as yourself. Besides all the fucking you do on camera, you’re exactly the type of girl that I’d want to take back to my apartment for some Castle Crashers and ass play.

You gave me hope, Raven Alexis. You spoke directly to the pizza-loving, Red Bull snorting, Charles Kettering-quoting geek that I am. And that’s why I blame you for my present predicament: I’m balls deep in a hot tub full of crazy, Raven Alexis, and I need you to tell me how to get out of it without singeing my pubes.

I did it! I picked up a girl! It worked, just like you said it would!

First, I sent her a few in-game messages about how I relate to Thrall because my father abandoned my family when I was only a baby. Then I took off my headset and made a bee line for the Monster Energy Drink machine to pick us up a couple drinks. I slammed those suckers down on top of her monster rig, tossed a couple napkins in her face, and asked her how much RAM she thinks I have.

To my surprise, she smiled. I was in.

Sure, she wasn’t exactly the dream girl you talked about in your article, but she was awful close. She was super hot, short; nearly busting out of her top. Her name was Katherine, but she made me call her Loki.

Loki and I talked for a long time that night. We exchanged numbers. I felt more confident that night than I’ve felt in a long time. It was like you’d given me the ultimate cheat code, Raven Alexis. Before, I was equipped with a slingshot. Now I was shooting with a spread gun. I was going to get laid every night for the rest of my life. That night I returned to my PC and fragged harder than I’ve fragged in my life.

The next morning, I woke to sixteen text messages and three voicemails on my phone, all from Loki. The last one was sent at five in the morning, and was written in all caps:

TNKING ABOUT u NAD

The voicemails were even worse. It sounded like they were recorded on the roof of a speeding train. She said that if I didn’t call her back, I was “just another fat faggot with a small dick,” like her last boyfriend. The way she put words together was so unnerving that I felt like she was in the room with me and I shivered as I deleted the messages.

At some point in our conversation, I made the mistake of being too honest with Loki. I told her where I worked. And that’s where she showed up that afternoon, with a bag full of Taco Bell and a mouth full of crazy. She said I should skip the rest of work and drive out to the valley to go on a picnic with her and her ex-boyfriend’s band. I politely declined, and she nearly dragged be through the lobby and into the parking lot. I put my foot down – quite literally – and she had no choice but to squeal out of the parking lot in shame. Unfortunately, on the way out, she plowed into my coworker’s new car and blamed it on me when the cops got there. When I returned to my desk, my boss was there, ready to let me have it.

I needed that job, Raven Alexis. I needed it to afford my video games, because no one is going to pay me to suck cock on camera. I think.

The next night, having not heard from Loki all day and feeling pretty okay with that, I went to the park to play volleyball with a few friends. Lo and behold, who should be there but the devil herself, dressed in what can only be described as a unitard? She introduced herself as my girlfriend and refused to do anything but serve the ball. After twenty minutes of complaining that no one had brought anything to drink, she punched me in the back and ran into the night, screaming that if I didn’t call her this weekend, I would wake up Monday morning with my balls in my mouth.

You have to help me, Raven Alexis. I don’t want this woman in my life anymore and I don’t know how to get rid of her. Do I have to kill her? I don’t really mean that. Unless, of course, that’s what you think I have to do. You tell me. You’re the hot one.

I have to admit I was a lot happier before you dropped all your wisdom on me. I liked my life back much better when I beat myself up every night for letting these beautiful women slip through my fingers and then masturbated to my mental snapshots long into the night.

I was fine with that! I don’t want to talk to beautiful women anymore! You know why? Because they’re all crazy, aren’t they?! Admit it! You’re all fucking crazy! And you all know it too! Everyone knows it but no one is saying anything! It’s a goddamn epidemic!

Undo what you did, Raven Alexis! Close the door you opened! Show the world that you actually care about us gamers, that you wouldn’t wish a beautiful woman on us under any circumstances, and that you didn’t write that article just because you wanted to plug your website!

If I can’t trust a porn star, then who the fuck can I trust?!