I Miss Counter-Strike

Call me old-school, gurang, baduy, or whatever tickles your fancy. But seriously, I miss saying the terms…




If you’ll spare ten seconds and look at my old blog’s (multiply) username, you’ll be next in line of the thousands of people asking me why I came up with such weird sounding noun.

Well, let’s just say that its etymology traces to that popular addiction way back my freshman high school days; I would lie as if without conscience to my mom about school project meetings ending late afternoon every Saturday. She would tell me to go home before sunset, but I go home two hours later, claiming that traffic was horrible. Of course, she would not believe this, but rode with it, until she eventually found out the truth, grounded me for a month, and then I never told lies to her again.

“Alastor Tansy” a.k.a. Master Para of CS Deathmatch. No one survives his deadly MP Para machine gun. Though you hide behind seemingly safe and concrete boxes, his bullets will find your head and drag your soul away from your body. And from the “para” pun, he saw in a book the world’s first ever chemist, Paracelsus. And since he was a pro with his gun buddy, his very ancient yahoo ID was born.


Most intelligent game invented on Planet Earth. (Well, probably second to Pokémon games.)

And that’s what I feel doing right now. Sharing the good ol’ times with my friends, playing till our wallets scream in agony. Forgetting all our present problems, laughing all our tears away.

Then a case or two of some cheap beer and Boy Bawang follows, probably in our house’s veranda. Then we recall our college life, the times we missed being with each other’s company, the times of supporting each other’s downfall.

And then we go to the previous computer shop again to burn our brains out. Poor old buddies, they die again of a notorious headshot (this time probably by an Automat Kevlar 47 rifle in De Dust).


4 comments on “I Miss Counter-Strike

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