Recent reviews by ZephyrIAddy

"My factory is held together with anxiety, cursed belts, and the silent judgment of my inserters."

I didn’t build a base. I created a post-apocalyptic spaghetti shrine to inefficiency. The belts don’t flow — they suffer. My copper line crosses my oil pipes four times. My iron plates do a scenic tour of the entire base before reaching the smelter again. And the inserters? They’ve seen things.

They don’t speak — but I feel them judging me. Every time they pick something up, I swear I hear a sigh. A click of mechanical disappointment. One of them refuses to rotate anymore. I didn’t program that. That’s a statement.

Sometimes I zoom out to admire my chaos, and it looks like someone dropped a bowl of wires and rage onto a map and said, “Good luck, idiot.”

There’s a wall around the entire base — five tiles thick, lined with laser turrets, and surrounded by land mines and more anxiety. Not because the biters are aggressive. No. Because I know what I’ve built and I fear retaliation.

10/10 — would be silently judged by my own robotic children again while crying into a misaligned circuit line.
This game doesn’t ask for perfection. It just waits until you break.

"Ever wanted to feel tiny, broke, and lost in the vastness of space? Welcome to Elite Dangerous."

This game is massive. Like, "fly in one direction for six hours and still not hit a wall" massive. You start out as a broke space trucker in a ship held together with duct tape and caffeine, and before you know it, you're hauling illegal cargo through pirate-infested systems, mining space rocks for cash, or getting sucked into a black hole because you forgot to refuel.

The flight mechanics are buttery smooth, the galaxy is jaw-droppingly beautiful, and the freedom? Unreal. Want to be a bounty hunter? Do it. Space trucker? Sure. Diplomatic space bus driver? Weird, but yes. A lonely explorer who flies so far out no one remembers your name? Romantic and depressing — go for it.

There’s a steep learning curve. Like, “I-just-Google-how-to-land” steep. But once it clicks, you’ll be docking like a pro and screaming in delight every time your frame shift drive doesn’t explode.

9/10 — would get lost in deep space again with nothing but a laser, 6 credits, and bad decisions.

"Yes, I modded Khajiit waifus into Skyrim. No, I will not be taking questions."

Skyrim Special Edition? Yeah, it's a classic. It's got dragons. Magic. Epic quests. But more importantly — it has mod support. And with mod support comes Khajiit with thighs that could crush a guard’s helmet and fur textures so high-res, NASA had to step in.

I don't care what the main story is. Alduin can wait. I’ve got 200+ mods installed, half of which are Khajiit-themed. You ever seen a catgirl shout a bandit off a cliff in 4K ultra-fluff? You haven’t lived.

Yes, I replaced every armor mod with something “light and tactical” (read: scandalous). Yes, I gave my Khajiit custom idle animations and voice lines. Yes, I know the exact folder where all my tail physics settings are stored. No, I’m not ashamed. This is art. This is culture.

My Skyrim isn’t broken — it’s enhanced. My catgirl assassin doesn’t sneak. She struts.
This isn't a cry for help. It's a perfectly curated Khajiit-centric experience.

10/10 — would ignore the civil war to smooch a fluffy mercenary and hoard cheese wheels in our moon sugar-powered love den again.

"It’s like someone handed Top Gear a yoga mat and told them to go touch grass — and it kinda rules."

Drive Beyond Horizons isn’t about speed. It’s about vibes. About slowly driving a janky 4x4 up a mountain trail while the suspension makes noises that sound like it’s questioning its existence. And somehow? It’s glorious.

You’re not racing anyone. There’s no timer. Just you, your overworked engine, and a serene environment that will flip you on your roof the second you get cocky.

It’s equal parts relaxing and chaotic. One moment you're admiring the view, the next you’ve sent your car sideways into a ditch because you thought that rock was “probably fine.” Spoiler: it wasn’t.

The vehicle tuning? Deep. The physics? Solid. The terrain? Will humble you faster than your dad’s old truck with no power steering.

9/10 — would roll downhill for 45 seconds and call it a learning experience again.

"Cyberpunk 2077: Come for the story, stay because you modded V into a furry and now you’re too deep to turn back."

This game is gorgeous. It's emotional. It's edgy. It’s a masterclass in cyberpunk storytelling... and also I turned every NPC into furries because I’m a hopelessly modded degenerate with no self-control.

Yes, I’m playing with RTX on and dignity off. V has ears, a tail, and probably unresolved trauma. Keanu Reeves lives in my head, disapproving of my life choices while I flirt with cyber-anthro bartenders and crash modded bikes into holographic billboards.

The game’s been patched into greatness, and I respect that. It went from glitchy meme-fest to “accidentally cried during a brain dance.” But let’s be honest — I’m 70% here for the story, 30% here to see my catboy V parkour in a thong at night while packing a tech shotgun.

The combat slaps. The world is stunning. The mods are unholy.
And yes, I romance Panam as a modded fox hybrid. Sue me.

10/10 — would run from NCPD in a neon tail plug again.

"Ever wanted to dig a hole so big it doubles as a lifestyle? Welcome to Construction Simulator."

This game lets you live out your childhood dream of operating heavy machinery without needing a license or a union rep. Cranes? Check. Dump trucks? Check. Accidentally backing a cement mixer into traffic while trying to read the controls? Also check.

It’s oddly relaxing and deeply satisfying… until you realize you’ve spent 45 minutes trying to park an excavator in reverse because the controls are both realistic and cursed.

Jobs range from “place this pallet” to “build an entire hospital while your buddy is stuck in a ditch flipping a skid steer like it’s Tony Hawk’s Pro Loader.” It’s teamwork, it’s precision, it’s pure chaos in a hard hat.

10/10 — would pave a sidewalk directly into a parked car again.

"Came for the racing. Stayed because sliding sideways at 90mph into a wall never felt so right."

CarX Drift Racing Online is less of a racing game and more of a beautifully polished tire-melting addiction simulator. You don’t just drive cars — you slide them, yeet them, and emotionally bond with them while trying to impress strangers online with your sick backwards entries and questionable taste in liveries.

The physics? Chef’s kiss — realistic enough to make you feel skilled, forgiving enough that your mistakes look intentional.
The community? Half professional drifters, half bumper car maniacs, 100% vibes.
The lobbies? Pure chaos. Tandems? Beautiful. Random donuts mid-track? I respect it.

Be warned: you will sink hours dialing in your tune to absolute perfection... and then wrap it around a light pole because your friend said “send it” in voice chat.

10/10 — would understeer into a barrier and pretend it was a clip-worthy exit again.

"It’s Minecraft with trauma."

7 Days to Die is that magical mix of survival horror and base-building panic, where every decision feels like it was made by a committee of raccoons high on adrenaline. You start off punching grass and eating old sandwiches — next thing you know, you’re holed up in a wooden cube praying it holds back 37 feral zombies doing parkour at midnight.

The first few days are chill. Then the 7th day hits, and suddenly your shack is a war crime. Your friend fell into a spike trap they built themselves, the roof's on fire, and you're screaming because a zombie clipped through a wall like it's a Bethesda game.

It’s buggy, it’s janky, it’s beautiful. The building system? Deep. The crafting? Addictive. The loot? A gamble. The jump scares from a silent zombie crawling out of a cupboard while you're looting? Emotional damage.

10/10 — would eat cat food and die in a pit of my own spikes again.

"Realistic crash physics? Buddy, I drove a toaster off a cliff at 140mph and felt it in my soul."

BeamNG.drive is less of a driving game and more of a highly scientific car destruction sandbox where the laws of physics are not only respected — they’re weaponized. Ever wanted to launch a box truck into a canyon? Yeet a bus full of crash test dummies off a skyscraper? Try to take a corner at 200 mph and learn what regret sounds like in slow motion? This game’s for you.

The driving feels legit. The physics engine is a masterpiece. The modding community is feral in the best way. I loaded 14 school buses into a blender-shaped ramp and it didn’t crash my PC — it crashed me.

There’s no real objective here. Just cars, gravity, and your deeply questionable decisions. And that’s beautiful.

10/10 — would flip a hatchback 47 times and call it “data collection” again.

"Ever wanted to lie for profit and call it 'salesmanship'? This is your game."

Car Dealer Simulator lets you live the dream: flipping junkers, sweet-talking customers, and pretending a car with three working gears and a wasp nest in the glove box is a limited edition classic. It’s like House Flipper, but for people who think “trust me, it runs great” is a valid warranty.

You’ll wash rust off with the power of hope, slap a new bumper on something that looks like it lost a fight with a forklift, and then sell it to a guy named Gary for $6,000 profit because “it’s got character.”

It’s weirdly addicting, mildly janky, and full of that beautiful chaos that only comes from running a business out of a garage with two tools and zero ethics.

9/10 — would tell another NPC this totally isn’t flood damage again.