No woman no cry.
Sometimes I pray when my son is driving and I’m in the passenger seat. And I don’t even have a personal god concept. Dang those 50 hours of supervised behind the wheel are tough on a Dad.
No politics, know peace.
Know politics, no peace.
No pain, no gain!
No fish, no fowl.
No socks, no shoes
No shoes, no shirt, no service.
No shit?
No? Shit.
No money down? No, money down!
CONTINGENCY FEE
__________?
No, RETAINER!!!
Plowing virgins.
(aka Trekkies)
Then we need a protagonist with a Blood Oath of Vengeance to go after him.
ooh, wait. Xykon versus Osama undeath match. I’d pay for tickets.
No woman no nookie.
You gotta take the good with the bad.
No, money down!
Everyone should be able to: fire a gun, clean a gun, buy guns from somebody else, treat gunshot wounds, comfort the dying who have been shot by guns, field-strip a gun, construct a gun from spare household items, draw a picture of a gun, write about guns, complain about gun laws on Usenet, collect guns, sell guns on eBay, and write poetry about guns. Specialization is for insects.
Tom, I’ve TOLD you not to screw around with the spectral translator. Look, you’ve got Heinlein AND Heston stuck in there, and it’s spewing garbage.