My Text Twist obsession has lasted only a few days, but it became dangerous to the point at which I had to quit. TT is a word puzzle on Yahoo! Games that eats up time at a rate I can’t even believe. This can be both good and horrible. But it’s over. I have to stop.

Usually, at work, I’d play with one or two people hovering over the screen, collaborating with me (the typist) to get the six-letter word that guarantees advancement to the next round. I always felt kind of impure doing this, as if I was cheating myself and Yahoo! by getting outside help. But as long as they were there at the beginning of the game and stuck around until the end, they were cool. If we got a high score, it would be all of our high scores and not something each of us could lord over others as reasons why we were individually awesome.

So it really pissed me off when yet other people would walk by and nonchalantly say the six-letter word as if it was really obvious. “Footed. Duh, you guys.” I’d whirl around and literally yell at whoever did this, even if we weren’t friends (and with even more venom if we were friends). I’d be all “How could you do that? This is our game.” What?

In hindsight, this made me look mean, and somewhat deranged.

Late last night, I completed my final round of TT while alone in my apartment. It took about an hour and I was just totally in the zone. I felt unstoppable. My fingers seemed to move independently of my brain, but that’s just because my brain was operating at super-warp word speeds not connectable to lowly things like hands. This game is a lot like Snood in addictive qualities. Unlike Snood, it’s not completely mindless so you don’t feel like a total negative when you play it for two hours straight, fighting off the urge to use the bathroom, eat or drink (quite a feat for me), or even look away from the screen.

My score was 111,250 — a higher score than I even thought was possible for just one person. Even with a three-person tag team, we’d only be racking up 50 or 60,000. As I sat there alone, dominating, I actually wondered if I could turn this talent into a career. Upon emerging from ‘’the zone'’ and remembering this, I decided to give up the game altogether. It’s simply not worth its delusional effects. I’m through.

It’s been 22 hours since I quit. And like a crack addict, I am sitting here with random letters floating through my numbskull, combining to make beautiful words like “tag,” “rage,” and “greater.” But I am greater than this game. I will beat this addiction. You’ll never see me play again. Because I will do it in the privacy of the Pink Palace.

Just realized I made up the word “connectable.” I like that. I also like how up in the first paragraph, the word “eats” is hanging out right next to the large “FOOD” in the graphic/screen capture. How unintentionally excellent.

This morning I received a playful e-mail from Friendster with the subject “Friendster misses you!” Right. It can’t stand life without the cackling girl with a tambourine in one hand and Stoli Raz in the other. I particularly got a kick out of this portion of the e-mail:

Oh, really? I can “blog it up” at Friendster? That’s awesome!

Wow. Each time I read the above blurb, I get a little more pissed off, and I don’t know why. I guess it’s Friendster’s flippant attitude towards the concept of the blog. As if I’d really want to “write an ode to sausage.” God! Anyone knows the best bloggers only write their longest, most memorable missives about nachos and cupcake icing.

The Real World actually seemed kind of real last night, and it only took the death of a loved one. Yay.

Hey, you know what I hate? When people don’t step aside on escalators! I mean, what’s with those people? Seriously!