the reality is that the truth is probably somewhere in the middle. just like the flat earth debate, the truth is in the middle. the earth is not round nor purely flat; it is a dome
the reality is that the truth is probably somewhere in the middle. just like the flat earth debate, the truth is in the middle. the earth is not round nor purely flat; it is a dome
Tanner's life continues its downward spiral
twitchquotes:After his shift at McDonald's, Tanner sits alone in his dark, dingy apartment, waiting for Kripp's stream to begin. As soon as Kripp's face appears, he begins one of his tirades, insulting and mocking Kripp, the happily-married, multi-millionaire video game streaming sensation. "That'll show him", Tanner mutters to himself, as his life continues its downward spiral.
After his shift at McDonald's, Tanner sits alone in his dark, dingy apartment, waiting for Kripp's stream to begin. As soon as Kripp's face appears, he begins one of his tirades, insulting and mocking Kripp, the happily-married, multi-millionaire video game streaming sensation. "That'll show him", Tanner mutters to himself, as his life continues its downward spiral.
I own a musket for base defense, since that's what the developers intended. Four Syndicate dunderheads breach my front gate. "What the Ignis?" As I grab my cold resistant metal armor and musket. Blow a pal sphere sized hole through the first thug, he's dead on the spot. Draw my make-shift pistol on the second thug, miss him entirely because it's crafted from spare parts and nails the neighbor's Rayhound. I have to resort to my Lamball and the mounted rocket fortification at the top of the stairs. "Tally ho lads" the shrapnel shreds two thugs in the blast, the sound and extra shrapnel set off the neighbors alarm bells. Ready my metal spear and charge at the last terrified rapscallion. He bleeds out waiting on the PIDF to arrive since thirty-seven stab wounds are impossible to stitch up. Just as the developers intended.
I own a musket for base defense, since that's what the developers intended. Four Syndicate dunderheads breach my front gate. "What the Ignis?" As I grab my cold resistant metal armor and musket. Blow a pal sphere sized hole through the first thug, he's dead on the spot. Draw my make-shift pistol on the second thug, miss him entirely because it's crafted from spare parts and nails the neighbor's Rayhound. I have to resort to my Lamball and the mounted rocket fortification at the top of the stairs. "Tally ho lads" the shrapnel shreds two thugs in the blast, the sound and extra shrapnel set off the neighbors alarm bells. Ready my metal spear and charge at the last terrified rapscallion. He bleeds out waiting on the PIDF to arrive since thirty-seven stab wounds are impossible to stitch up. Just as the developers intended.