She has stepped out into a different night, a different town altogether, one of those first-person-shooter towns that you can drive around in seemingly forever, but never away from. The only humanity visible are virtual extras in the distance, none offering any of the help she needs.

If I don&#39;t get food in my mouth, I&#39;m still happy. If my pants are round my ankles, as long as I don&#39;t get arrested for indecent exposure, I&#39;m happy. I&#39;m worried about keeping my hair, not how it&#39;s combed.

Hay que tener cuidado al elegir a los enemigos porque uno termina pareciéndose a ellos.

the dirty romans are forming up for calvery.

Written By John Steinbeck

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