What's the Difference Between Us?

We can start at the penis. Or we can scream, "I Just Don't Give a Fuck," and see who means it.
But enough Eminem.

Different people lead different lives. For instance, for you sidewalk can very well only mean that which you step on when you go outside. For me it's a constant adventure of pothole jumping, slipery slope surfing and a stiletto inhibitor. (The representetive photo includes a man lugging a pink thing that made me chuckle much at the time.) When the ground is composed of easily detachable rocks like so, you live your life a certain way. You learn to navigate it from an early age, OCD suffererers skip to avoid the black bits, you learn the rocks are much too hard to kick with soft shoes, you kick them out of the road if you're nice. People that live in places where sidewalk is just slabs of concrete put together never have to deal with such exciting dillemas.

The difference between me and the rest of most of the bloggers who've posted about the new city is that most of them are part of a large, organized guild. I'm a pugger. So it was with much dread that I ventured into the new city, self-conscious but ready to try my best. "Just follow the zerg" said Gonk, the supatank. And follow the zerg I most certainly did. As luck would have it, and much to my delight, we ran into another pug on order side. As pugs go ours must've been better as we breezed through all the stages without me dying even once.

I got a Warlord Carcass-Guard on the second stage and a purple bag on the third. Had a crappy knife in it so I just took the crests. I flapped my papier mache wings in excitement at the sight of a cowering Karl among our super-sized puggers.

So yes, I too aprove of this new city. I found myself asking "Can we go again?" right after it was over. It totally made up for the uselesness I had endured trying to defend Caledor earlier.