And that was a good show; there's a lot you pick up on the second time around.

On the plus side, I bet Jeremy Sanders, my middle-school bully, would have liked me a whole lot better. On the down side, I would have spent the summer of '93 in Camp Selfquest being de-gayed by sexually confused Baptists, instead of how I actually spent it, which was watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle re-runs.

I spent the rest of the game wandering the radioactive wreckage, looking for a battered women's shelter still left untouched by the bombs.

one time. Maybe it was a fluke that he won, maybe it was a lucky shot, or he had some weakness I could've spotted the second time around - but no, I lost a fight and so I immediately gave it up to a man that has hurt me in the past, and has no respect for me as a person.

I Do Not Value Human Life

This is best illustrated through an anecdote: Long before I discovered my soulmate, The Woman Who Makes Whiskey Hurt Less, I was roaming the destroyed countryside with a charming, hip young lesbian so full of quirky idiosyncrasies that I half-expected Michael Cera to come jogging up across the shattered highways in hilariously short shorts and retro knee-socks to profess his love for her. I'd grown somewhat attached to the girl, and we'd been through a lot together. And then somehow, we wandered onto a small hill that was also a portal to hell: Gigantic, horrible mutants with rocket launchers, mini-guns and humungous, brutal swords descended on us. But we held together, we did not panic, and somehow -- when the dust had settled and the fires went out -- we were victorious. Shell-shocked, drenched in blood, but alive! Alive!

AAALLLIIIIIVE!

And then one mutant de-cloaked behind her predator-style (oh hey, they can do that? Rad.) and chopped her in half. After I had killed him, I was left with a decision: Do I re-load the game, bringing the precocious young spitfire back to life, where she can laugh and joke again, or do I save over that file, because now I have like sixteen missile launchers?

That's an easy one!

I erased her life. And I felt nothing.

Later in the game, a soldier glitched out and shot my dog; I murdered the entire town with a dress cane before finally managing to find the 'reload' option through the tears.

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I would know more dogs and fewer people. I'm actually totally okay with this one.

You can buy Robert's book, Everything is Going to Kill Everybody: The Terrifyingly Real Ways the World Wants You Dead, or follow him on Twitter and Facebook or you could save that ten dollars for the much-anticipated new Fallout Expansion Pack, New Vegas: The Non-Crashing Edition.