10 Reasons Why Playing “Angry Birds” Is Just Like Real Life

1. Things start out very simply, then it all goes to hell really fast.

First couple of rounds, you just have to knock one little thing over and you are the king of the world, with your little avian allies carrying you around on their shoulders. Next thing you know, you have to destroy an entire barnyard, annihilate 27 pigs, and realign part of the solar system. With just one shot.

Likewise, talking about your own life cycle, for the first few days after you shot out of the womb, everything’s pretty plush, what with all the warm milk and lying around and people changing your outfits for you. (Yes, you do have to put up with those annoying people doing the baby talk thing, as if you can understand something that sounds like a gerbil on crack, but that’s a small price compared to the freedom of getting to pee straight up in the air whenever you want.) Next thing you know, you have two mortgages, bitter offspring, a soul-sucking job and a drinking problem. Sucks.

2. The red ones make the most noise but contribute the least effort.

Although it is kind of fun getting to slam the little feathered Republicans into a brick wall just to hear ‘em smack.

3. You have to keep doing the same thing over and over until you get it right.

Just like sex. Only without the feeling good part. But you can still achieve a false sense of accomplishment and skill, and you don’t have to call anybody the next day if you don’t feel like it.

4. They don’t build houses like they used to.

No quality craftsmanship here. An entire structure can easily be taken down if you just hit the right spot. Which means the people who designed this game probably also worked on the code compliance regulations for the city of Dallas. Just a guess. (Caller: “Um, I’d like to report this terrible house that-” Technician: “Is it still standing?” Caller: “Well, yes, but at any second-” Technician: “Then stay in your own house and quit being so nosey. Have a blessed day.”)

5. It’s not always clear what you need to do for advancement.

Angling for that big raise at work? You’ve tried everything you can think of to please your boss and that apparent super-secret committee that makes promotional decisions at some black mass in a rural barn, but nothing ever happens and you feel like you’re repeatedly hitting your head against the wall for no reason. Welcome to the higher levels in Angry Birds. Minus the tiny paycheck.

6. Sometimes your chicken goes the wrong way.

What’s with that disappointing and useless back flip in the other direction? I didn’t tell it to do that. People never listen to me.

7. Perky songs get annoying quickly.

Just try letting that “hoedown for chipmunks” soundtrack keep playing for longer than three minutes. Can’t be done. You’ll be hitting the mute button faster than Rush Limbaugh can suck an OxyContin tab through the window screen of a rehab clinic.

8. Gamers are misunderstood people.

People making smart-ass comments about you playing a stupid game for endless hours at a time? Ignore them. As long as you are occupied and complacent, you won’t be tempted by other, more destructive activities such as yodeling or serial-killing. In fact, by wasting your life on a game that means nothing, you are actually saving the world from potential emotional and physical harm. And that’s a good thing. Go on to the next level. Make those birds fly.

9. It’s just like a presidential election.

Lots of people lined up and wanting the job, but in the end it’s all about the one who can fly through the air with the most precision, hit the target squarely, and not get flipped onto the sidelines by thieving pigs who took what wasn’t theirs and won’t give it back without a fight.

10. For the 407th time, you are reminded that you probably should have paid more attention in school.

Remember those cryptic words like “trajectory” and “velocity” and “zygote” that old men with bad breath were hollering at you in science class back in the day? They were talking about this game, you just didn’t know it yet, and if you’d taken notes instead of writing a note to your bestie about the skate party on Saturday night, you’d be much better at knocking things down with virtual poultry.

Of course, it would have helped if Mr. Scum Breath had bothered to proffer his scholastic presentations in a more useful and suitable manner. Threaten me with not passing some lousy test? Yawn. Hint that I might one day use this knowledge to conquer annoying, hard-hatted pigs in a game of Old McDonald domination and slaughter? I’d have been in the front row of the class, one hand in the air with further questions and the other hand holding a daily apple for the best teacher ever. (Hmm. That last bit sounds like the discarded part of an Alanis Morissette song.)

Be right back, gotta go recharge my phone. Damn pigs.