Warcraft "Culture" For Morons: Know Your Role / by 49 Actual


I’ve made it no secret that I spend my off hours playing World of Warcraft instead of doing something useful with my life like, I dunno, pretending I’m a happy person who loves Jesus on Instagram while I twerk half naked for likes. Granted, I’d be vastly more popular on that platform than I am now but go fuck yourself: DeathLord Tano of the Horde doesn’t twerk. I have Blood Elf sluts who do that for me back at my garrison, you cunts.


This is not to say that I play to the same level that I did back in the early days of 2004. I’ve long “retired” as a raider and my old friends are long gone, leaving me rolling solo and doing pick up groups to get anything completed. While tools like Raider.Io try to help with picking the best randoms for the job at hand, anyone who has pugged knows that you’re still very likely to fill your 5-man group with 4 retards that will make you want to jerk a shotgun off into your mouth until it cums buckshot down your throat. Fuck the pain away!


Here’s what I’ve noticed with my myriad of experience over the years playing this game: most people have no idea how to play their role, let alone their class. Damage dealers trying to tank, healers thinking their opinions actually fucking matter, and tanks acting like their job is “so hard” even though I’ve literally tanked a instance while jerking off to Christy Mack’s fat ass and trying to get the fucking lube out of my keyboard. I’m a fucking demigod; what can I say? Be mad, hoes.


So, I’m going to assume you’re new to the game or a chick that fucks a dude that still plays this dumpster fire of a game and just want to know what the fuck he’s talking about when he bitches about losing to some gay ass dragon. We both know you really don’t care and you’re just tolerating his hobby because he buys you stuff and takes care of the baby that he thinks is his but we all know is your friend’s, Tyrone. But let’s keep the illusion alive a little longer and put some knowledge on you.

The Tank: The Dad of the Group

How I feel about most things, frankly

How I feel about most things, frankly

It doesn’t matter that you didn’t start the group; you’re in charge of it by default. The tank is expected to know everything about the dungeon even if it’s literally the first day of the expansion and no one has a fucking idea what’s going on. You’re the one that charges into the fight first, sets the tone of the engagement (unless the DPS are fucking morons and pull everything), call out targets, and is probably performing the most important role in the group. Pat yourself on the back, bitch. You have a group of people that need and value you; it’s the direct opposite of your career field where you could drop dead after a decade and a half of working the job and you’ll be replaced in a day and forgotten in a week.

Me two days after your funeral

Me two days after your funeral

On the flip side, everything that happens is your fault. Every. Thing. If the hunter pulls 10 guys on accident and wipes the group, it’s the tanks fault for sucking dick and not being tanky enough to handle that shit! Squat more, you fat piece of shit! Is the healer completely pathetic and all the crumbs from the Doritos that diabetic bitch eats blocking his “Healing Touch” key and the group dies repeatedly? It’s your fucking fault for playing a Brewmaster Monk and you should have just played a Death Knight and healed yourself!

Truth hurts, bitch.

Truth hurts, bitch.

Just like your dad in real life, you’re going to want the sweet taste of death after dealing with your shitbag kids (DPS) and your cunt of a girlfriend/wife/chick with dick nagging (healer) at you and telling you how much you suck. But remember, tanks are few and far between these days and they need you far more than you need them. So, whenever they get too uppity, embrace your dad powers by drinking a shit ton of tequila, engage a massive amount of verbal, psychological, and physical (if possible) abuse in their direction to get them to tow the fucking line, and lead your dumb ass group to victory so you can be disappointed that the mount you’ve been working so hard to get to all night did not drop again and you can go back to your real job the next day and cry in the closet because shit doesn’t go right for you in game or out of it. Just like Dad.


The Healer: The Bitch of the Group


You may be a healer and don’t like being called a bitch but we both know that’s what you are so shut the fuck up and go passively aggressively post about it on Twitter because I don’t give a fuck. The healer is responsible for making sure the group stays alive. They are pretty much a medic except many are more worthless because instead of holding your hand gently as you die, they constantly bitch about “ you should have done this” or “lol, y u pull dat” or the ever favorite phrase of a pure bitch made fool, “…”. A healer is the girlfriend in the passenger seat that you invited on a drive with you but criticizes how you drive constantly. The mom that says all your girlfriends are ugly in spite of the fact you’re breaking dick off in a Margot Robbie look-a-like during the day and half of the Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders at night.

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Healers are the kind of people that do not want the responsibility of leading as they probably have blue hair in their armpit and get “triggered” when you assume the gender of their goldfish so there’s no way they’ll deal with the anxiety of running a dungeon. But boy fucking howdy, will they backseat drive the living dogshit out of it and have a snide remark for everything you do that makes them hit their healing buttons even one time! Because god forbid a healer has to do some actual work and not just throw down some bitch ass totem thinking that will be enough.


In fairest, a good healer is a beautiful thing and should be added to the friends list asap as they were probably retired tanks and divorcees in real life that just want to be carried through life and get away from the pain. I will carry you, healer. Just…please shut the fuck up and let me do it.


The DPS: The Window Lickers of the Group

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If you don’t like the idea of leading a group, getting a job, cleaning your balls and eating crayons sounds like a great pastime, then playing a damage dealer is right up your fucking alley, lil’ fella! Dealing damage is the easiest fucking thing someone can do in the game and you know it’s true because I can drool on my fucking keyboard and fingerbang my penis hole while clicking button key “1” and max out a damage meter on a Demon Hunter!

You are not prepared, cunt.

You are not prepared, cunt.

Speaking of, that’s all a DPS sperg cares about: damage. They will stand in fire with the healer begging them to move out of it because they can’t keep healing them and they don’t care: must kill target is all their autistic brain can process. If you ask them to interrupt a spell, they will have a seizure in the chat window type nothing but “reeeeeeeeeee” for the next half hour. Unless you’re offering a lead paint sandwich for them to eat and gas to sniff, they want nothing productive to do with the group other than “hey bro, you need dat cloak” before the goddamn item you won is even in your bag for you to inspect.



The average tank would find this behavior perplexing and I did at first. But if you feed them Crayolas and tell them you’ll hook them up with some hentai they have never seen before after the dungeon, you can utilize the powers of these foul smelling cum-burpers to your advantage.

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Thankfully, DPS players are a dime a dozen and while there might be some out there I’d want to add to my friends list, they’ve yet to present themselves. So, just get the classes you need for the dungeon and hope it’s not some foreigner with terrible English that spams “Que” every time you ask him to get the fuck out of the poison shit on the ground. Also, sacrifice a goat so you don’t get a player from server Ragnaros. Playing with them is like anal sex but without lube and completely unexpected.


Basically, you probably shouldn’t play Warcraft: BFA. But if you do, you might as well play with me so I can stop carrying four Retardasaurus Rex players around.

Also, yes…I’ve been away for 2 months and this is the article you got. Sucks to be you, doesn’t it! Lol!