So I recently bought Tim a gaming PC so we could finally play games together.
Before this, he was strictly console — all PlayStation, all the time.
The first game we played was R.E.P.O. — that new game on Steam everyone’s been talking about on TikTok. The biggest meme from the game is the “I love” trend — a player did a dramatic cover of “Chest Pain” by Malcolm Todd, and the line “I love, I looovvveee” took over the internet.
Now if you know Tim, you know he’s addicted to TikTok.
So naturally, while we were playing, all he kept doing was singing,
“I love… I loooovveeee,”
on loop. Over and over. Every five seconds.
And I would’ve been cool with it if he did it once.
But this guy turned our entire playthrough into a one-man karaoke concert.
Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore and just got off the game.
But of course, since we live in this house, saying that line too many times apparently cursed the house.
And not just a regular curse — a cylindrical cap curse.
Every object in the house with a round top started singing “I love.”
Why? Because the characters in R.E.P.O. are shaped like little cylinder guys.
I didn’t figure it out until I went to throw something in the trash.
I opened the garbage can and — boom — it belted out “I love” at full volume.
I screamed. The lid screamed back.
I ran to Tim and told him what just happened, and he looked at me dead in the eye, still playing the game, and said…
“I love.”
Like nothing happened. Like he didn’t just turn our house into a TikTok musical.
And to make it worse, guess what we were having for dinner that night?
Pasta. And mini sausages.
So I open the pack of mini hot dogs, and immediately, they all start singing too.
At first, not gonna lie, it sounded kinda nice — harmonies and everything.
But after ten minutes, I was losing it. They wouldn’t stop.
I couldn’t even order takeout because Tim had drained my credit card ordering McDonald’s all week — which I just found out about, by the way.
So I kept cooking. And toward the end, I figured I might as well record the moment.
Because, at the end of the day, I am a content creator.
As I’m filming, one of the sausages hits a perfect “I love” note.
So I had to pretend I liked it for the camera — I grabbed the spatula and started dancing with it like this was a cooking show musical. Tim’s in the background vibing.
Then we sat down and ate.
Big mistake.
Because for the next five hours, the only words we could physically say out loud were:
“I love.”
That was it. That’s all we could say.
We had to communicate by text for the rest of the night.
Which, weirdly, wasn’t even the first time we’ve had to do that.
Last time it was because of a crocodile in the house…
But that’s a story for another time.
