Both Rock AND Roll is Required
It is my armor. Against the ravages of time and heartache and failure and despair. Attitudinal armor. Protection from self-pity and feeling small in a world of wars for oil, politicians spouting horseshit non-stop and the constant drumbeat of the the Big Countdown Clock. A layer of badassness that fights back the feeling that, as I get older, I'm simply going to lose everything I ever held dear and everyone I ever loved because that's just the way it is. My Captain America shield. My Bat Cape. My resolve to never allow the World to beat me.
Both Rock AND Roll is Required
It is my armor. Against the ravages of time and heartache and failure and despair. Attitudinal armor. Protection from self-pity and feeling small in a world of wars for oil, politicians spouting horseshit non-stop and the constant drumbeat of the the Big Countdown Clock. A layer of badassness that fights back the feeling that, as I get older, I'm simply going to lose everything I ever held dear and everyone I ever loved because that's just the way it is. My Captain America shield. My Bat Cape. My resolve to never allow the World to beat me.
Andy disassembled his weapon with lighting speed. He packed it away in the black backpack made specifically for a weapon of this sort. He bolted to the roof access door as fast as his little, chubby legs would carry him. He made his way through the condo/office building stairwell without being noticed just as he had done on his way up. Andy was good at his job. And for a nine-month-old baby, he was really good at it.