Half a Life, Indeed

It rained all last night, and this morning the ground was still wet when I went outside to the car, the air thick and deadening.  And when I heard the heavy whump-whump-whump of the helicopter overhead, hidden above the gray clouds, I did a quick circular sweep of the sky and tried to pull out the rocket launcher.

Which, of course, I didn't actually, y'know, have.

I'm finally playing Half-Life 2 (yes, yes, late), and the goddamned thing is seeping into the real world.  I know at some point someone is going to throw a whole, plucked chicken at me and I'll freak out and start beating it with a crowbar.

The last time this happened, I'd been playing a lot of Battlefield 2 and couldn't look out the window of my office without seeing a sniper cross-hair superimposed over the people down on the sidewalk.

Which wasn't all that different than normal, actually.


 




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