“What was he supposed to do? Just bow down and let the grizzly gangs run the place? No, goddamnit. This is a man! He put down his bowl of shoe-leather soup, strapped on his Ursine Assaultin’ Trackpants (every Russian has a pair) and he went to beat that fucker to death with a pepper-mill.”
(via rocketjumper)
“No sé por qué he pensado en ti al leer esto.”
Yo sí. Porque me asocias a eventos originales y minuciosamente organizados, sin que importen su catadura moral o consecuencias legales.
(via Ingram)