My favourite game is the one where you buy a bottle of Jamesons, and hammer it down as you slowly look at your shambles of life, wondering where it all went wrong. First you blame your deadbeat father for leaving you so young. Then your mother for being an abusive whore. Your uncle is a prime candidate for all of those special 'sleep overs'. But then, your string of 'uncles' that kept you awake all through your teens, ploughing your mother and greeting you in the morning, calling you 'slugger' whilst you knew full well he'd be beating your mother as soon as you left for school.
But that's all in the past. What about your high school sweetheart, Julie? Everything was perfect until that little prom queen bitch left you for the captain of the football team and gave it up in his car on their first date. Or what about Michelle? She really was perfect and yet she discarded you like a sodden jazz mag when that new guy at work - what was his name? Brad? Chad? - showed up and started giving her Tango lessons. **** her. And **** Julie too.
Once you've cleared a bottle and realised that you're not the problem, it's everybody else you're ready to kick off some domestic abuse. Enjoy!