Let me tell you about a doozy of a science fiction novella -  Harlan Ellison’s I have No Mouth, and I Must Scream.  Winning the Hugo award in 1968, Ellison’s novella tells the tale of a malevolent artificial intelligence that mercilessly fucks with the last five humans in existence.

Named AM, an abbreviation for Allied Mastercomputer, the intelligence hates its human charges so much that it tortures them in disturbingly creative ways, such as: giving them cans of food with no means of opening said cans; granting them immortality to ensure an eternity of suffering; altering their perception of time to prolong their misery.

Why am I telling you this?  You see, dear reader, I hate the sims.  Every time I tried to play the sims, my avatar pissed himself and then refused to do anything.  With my sim thwarting my ability to play the game properly, I became something akin to A.M:  removing the pool ladder to the swimming pool, trapping my sim in the drink; making my sim open a cursed genie lamp which burned down his house; deleting the doors to my sim’s house, trapping him inside.

So, what does my sim’s day look like, you ask?  Suffice to say, it wouldn’t be the typical hockey fare of going to practice, crushing beers with teammates, or going to an ownership mandated media day.  Nor would it be enjoying an off day of light exercise capped off with a drink and a movie.  It’s all trap swimming pools and wish-master style genies for this poor bastard.