Modern Girl – An iPhone Game Review

So I play this little game called SongPop with my mother sometimes. When you finish a match, you can sometimes watch an advert for a free iPhone game, and earn 5 in-game coins towards your next playlist to unlock. I’m saving up for K-Pop at the minute, so I go ahead and watch them all. Well, last night I watched one that blew my fucking mind.

Enter “Modern Girl”, another in a long line of idiotic games that attempt to represent some form of life or something, buy getting players to tap shit and earn “money”. Only this time it’s for girls, so you use the money to buy sexy and cute clothes to further your writing career, because everyone knows you can’t be a professional writer unless you look stylin’ while you’re at it. OK so maybe that’s true in the fashion industry, but it shouldn’t be. Fuck it, what do I know, I’m reviewing a free iPhone game that I played for about twenty minutes.

A girl once said this to my best friend (not the second date bit) and he promptly fucked off and distanced himself FAST.

The first thing you do when you load the game is choose your hairstyle, hair color, and skin color. I stuck with caucasian, like some kind of racist, and then spent a while deliberating over which hairstyle I wanted. Then I found the -cutest- red beret and stuck that on some flowing brown hair. Basically I made my girlfriend in game form, except she’s a fashion writer who probably vomits her salad up to stay thin in the horrific world of what’s hot and what’s not.

Tease you, then slam the door in your face because I’M A FREE SPIRIT YOU CAN’T HOLD ME BACK

Next up, you choose some clothes. To be honest I can’t remember what I chose, probably some shorts and a cami top or something, I don’t fucking know. It was 1am. Not that it mattered, because the editor-in-chief of my magazine, who coincidentally was my character’s idol, turned out to be a gigantic bitch and insulted my clothes anyway. Cos that’s original. Luckily my new actual boss was a lot nicer, and instead of insulting me, told me to churn out about 26 reviews in five minutes, because a) that’s possible and b) I knew exactly what I was reviewing (probably some cleaner way to go about bulimia, I don’t fucking know).

“I need a review on Emma Stone’s breasts done in the style of Hunter S. Thompson writing as Sebastian Faulk, and if you could do it in a millisecond, that would be greeeeeat.”

So after strolling into work and churning out a shitload of reviews about a pair of shoes that J-Lo once looked at from a distance but our “on the street” paps snapped a picture of her with a silly face wile she looked at them so they must be amazing (yeah, try that for an easy to read sentence), my character was told to ditch work and go shopping instead. Fuck yeah! I’m a strong independent woman making my own way in the world! Screw my job, I’ll just turn up when I like! Employers love that shit!

FUCK YEAH LET’S BUY PINK CLOTHES

My current outfit was a bit daytime-y (i.e. not slutty) so I felt I should buy an LBD, which thankfully I could, and it was only like, $50 or something (must’ve been a thrift store), and some shoes, and then I thought “fuck it” and bought a short skirt and one of those tops where one strap is longer than the other so it falls down my arm sexily (seriously what the fuck is up with those tops they piss me off so much). Then it was time to hit the night-club (cos I don’t have work in the morning!).

My first date, I went and saw New Moon and took the piss out of it all the way through. Nothing can top that, pretty boy.

I was only allowed to go to the bar, because I wasn’t slutty enough to go anywhere else, and while there I was told to flirt with one of three pretty boys who were just kind of stood around, waiting for life to happen or something. I picked the one who looked most like R-Patz, because he’s so peng (is peng still a word?), and then I had to buy him a drink. Buy him a drink? Fuck, what am I, a lesbian? Even strong independent women know how to convince guys to buy them drinks, surely? Hey, whatever, it’s a modern society. I bought him some champaggen, and suddenly he was my boyfriend. Fucking what? I thought I was suppose to give him a handjob behind in the toilets?

Kiss him to keep him happy? Jesus, this guy is such a pussy.

Whatever. My tutorial told me I had to kiss him to make him happy (I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP) and go on dates with him so he would GIVE ME GIFTS. Hang on, I thought if guys gave me gifts, it meant they were cheating on me? With conflicting opinions surrounding me, I took him to a little diner downtown, paid for the meal (modern society!) and then he gave me some earrings and claimed it was his best first date ever. Yeah, probably cos the fucker didn’t even go halves. He was not getting any that night, that’s for damn sure. Then my objective was to keep him as my boyfriend for an hour. AN HOUR? Fuck! I’ve been dating the same girl for nearly three years now, and this game counts one hour as an ACHIEVEMENT?!

My shortest relationship was two days. By this standard, I’m super fucking clingy.

I killed time by watching White Men Can’t Jump (loved it) and then returned to the game to find that, yes, we were still together. Excellent. Clearly the man had no backbone, particularly after I’d outright ignored him for an hour straight and in the world of Modern Girl that pretty much means I thought he had a tiny cock and there was no way my mouth was going near it. To make up for it I took him to a really nice resteraunt (which I paid for again) and the prick had the GALL to give me $110 as A GIFT? That’s not a gift, that’s being a fucking escort! Nevermind that it BARELY covered dinner, but seriously? Are we really teaching girls that if they date guys long enough then they’ll get given money? Fuck that.

“It’s your lucky day! I’m paying you to be with me! OH GOD I’M SO LONELY PLEASE JUST TOUCH IT JUST ONCE YOU CAN WEAR GLOVES YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE TO LOOK.”

To calm my nerves I went shopping, and got a pink top and a slightly less pink skirt. My new outfit meant I could now start doing some filing at work (you’ve got to be fucking kidding me, how is that a step up from reviewing) and “summarising”. What the fuck is summarising? How is it more effort than an entire fucking review? Yeah, here’s a summary for you: “This is bullshit, I want my life back.”

Yeah, I miss you too. Where’s my fucking handbag, cheapskate?

So I had some nice clothes, and a decent boyfriend, now what? My female friend told me to get given a gift worth at least “15 hotness”. I don’t even know what that means, but apparently another $110 isn’t hot enough, so it was time to ditch the bastard. Still, my nice clothes meant I could now flirt with richer guys, one of whom even had the chance of giving me a gift worth 15 hotness! Reem! (I don’t know if I used that word correctly, but because it is NOT A REAL WORD, I don’t care.) I took him to a diner, and he didn’t cough up the goods. So I deleted the game.

OH MAN CLINGY YOU’RE STIFLING ME I’M THROUGH DON’T CALL ME

Seriously, what the fuck was I thinking? “OH hey I’ve always wanted to be a modern girl living in a high-powered world where I do things my way, let’s do this shit!” It’s a showcase of both horrible stereotypes of women, that they buy shit loads of shoes, and that they control everything in their relationship. That, or my fella was too spineless to make his own fucking decisions, and that’s why I chose the activity every time we went out. Seriously, speak up dickhead, stop being a gormless moron and have some of your own opinions.

 

Here’s my opinion: Don’t touch this fucking game. Go play with yourself; it’s far more entertaining, holds your attention longer, and makes you feel a lot more empowered than this trash ever will.

8/10

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