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Country: North America, US, United States
City: 18501 Scranton, Pennsylvania
Along with WOLF HALL, the first part of what will be a trilogy, BRING UP THE BODIES is the best novel I've read in years. There is none of the woodenness here that characterizes most historical fiction. Characters, settings, dialogue are full of vigor, utterly believable and yet strange. The books are addictive. Thank god there will be a third!
I walk down the street, clutching my paper bag. Inside, Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz, and a pack of smokes. It's cold and the wind bites my cheek like a hungry rat. I pull my collar higher and slit my eyes as the banshee tugs at my coat.
Something pink in the gutter. Metal, twisted. A child's lunchbox. Barbie perhaps. Flattened by traffic, the indifferent tires of the city bus or the gaudy spinners on some drug thug's Escalade. Once upon a time this was the pride and joy of some little girl. Now, discarded, like this city. This city which was once the symbol of our industrial might. Discarded like the union cards of retirees as they watch their benefits shrivel and their 401k's evaporate. Ignored like the leaves which blow into burnt out shells of once majestic houses, to rot in dank corners as the timbers lean and mortar crumbles.
Michigan Avenue. Four lanes each way but not a car or person in sight. It's dark now and the punks rule the streets. Good people still live here but trying to keep the gang bangers, meth heads and crack fiends out is like holding back the tide with a torn raincoat and a pair of rubber gloves. No one around, no witnesses. They can sneak up behind you, kick you down, steal your wallet and even give you a tattoo with their dirty Air Jordans before anyone comes along to shoo them off. They smell fear with the instinct of hyenas.
Life has changed for me ever since I started drinking Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz. No more apprehension, even though my limp, a souvenir from 'Nam, gives me away with each step I take. No more hiding like a cockroach.
I heft the Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz in my hand. The weight feels good. My combination lucky rabbits foot and brass knuckles. Drunk from a tall cold glass, it can be a honeyed elixir giving strength to your weary bones and adding resolve to your spirit. Swung properly, with enough momentum as you pivot on your opposing foot, it can break your opponent's nose like a toothpick. At least my 3 years in the jungle were good for something.
Dark now. Shadows behind me. From the corner of my eye I count two of them. Punks. They swarm the weak like maggots on putrid meat. They've got something extra coming tonight.
I tighten my grip on the Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz, slow my walk and smile to myself.
I purchased this software originally three years ago and keep renewing. (I bought this version as a renewal key and also updated the software).
Works great--doesn't seem to be a resource hog.
I needed to update the Norton Firewall to allow access from my home network PCs (one of my Win 7 computers shares files), and I often disable the internet toolbars, but I have no complaints and will continue to use this software in the future as long as they still do a good job securing the PC without killing resources.