Sentences with phrase «still ended up dead»

met through mutual friends and she could have still ended up dead..

Not exact matches

I can't tell you how many nights I get home late, and I'm tired and brain - dead and still have more work to do, so I end up scrambling a couple of eggs, wolfing them down in front of my laptop, and calling that dinner.

hmm so this man decides to use all the transfer window to get a cheap defender and ends up still paying over, I will never understand how wenger thinks, God help us I pray this should be his last season, its not even about transfers any more formation and tactics wise, wenger is dead

@Readin, On consideration, slavery is still on the political spectrum, albeit on a different axis of theft (of human resources), where the extreme would be slavery on one end, moving over to various forms of cruel peonage, then to sweatshops, then to low pay dead end jobs with wage theft, the same without wage theft, the same with benefits, and so on up, the opposite side being no theft at all so that a given laborer is paid their fair share.

Those sturgeon still plying the Yangtze today might end up being the last of their kind: «the living dead,» says aquatic ecologist David Dudgeon of the University of Hong Kong.

Combined with beat «em up gameplay and hundreds of different items to use against the hordes, the series» best psycopath bosses and mall setting and a ton of endings and secrets, Dead Rising still holds up today for both newcomers to the franchise and returning fans like me indulging in some gory nostalgia.

All said and done, we still believe it might end up announcing a new iteration of Red Dead Redemption at E3 this year.

The fact that the steering is still light around the dead - ahead, then sticky as you turn, doesn't help in the corners either; although the chassis is sharp, you often end up taking a couple of bites at tight turns.

Update 31/5/16: Deep Silver has confirmed that Dead Island 2 is still in development despite vanishing from Steam, this goes against many theories suggesting the game had ended up being cancelled.

, you are lying on the floor of your place looking up, a small draft runs through the room, between the door and the window, and all things seem perfectly still, wind only disturbs concrete in imperceptible ways, or it may take millions of years to be noticed and, as the air runs through the space, all your plants move and all is animated and all is alive somehow, and here are the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands, they are not original with me, and that wind upon your plants is the common air that bathes the globe, and we have no ambitions of universalism, and I'm glad we don't, but the particles of air bring traces of pollen and are charged with electricity, desert sand, maybe sea water, and these particles were somewhere else before they were dragged here, and their route will not end by the door of this house, and if we tell each other stories, one can imagine that they might have been bathed by this same air, regrouped and recombined, recharged as a vehicle for sound, swirling as it moves, bringing the sound of a drum, like that Kabuki story where a fox recognizes the voice of its parents as a girl plays a drum made out of their skin, or any other event, and yet I always felt your work never tells stories, I tend to think that narrative implies a past tense, even if that past was just five seconds ago, one second ago was already the past, and human memory is irrelevant in geological time, plants and fish know not what tomorrow will bring, neither rocks nor metal do, but we all live here now, and we all need visions and we all need dreams, and as long as your metal sculptures vibrate they are always in the Present, and their past is a material truth alien to narrative, but well, maybe narrative does not imply a past tense at all and they are writing their own story while they gently move and breathe, and maybe nothing was really still before the wind came in, passing through the window as if through an irrational portal to make those plants dance, but everything was already moving and breathing in near complete silence, and if you're focused enough you can feel the pulse of a concrete wall and you can feel the tectonic movements of the earth, and you can hear the magma flowing under our feet and our bones crackling like a wild fire, and you can see the light of fireflies reflected in polished metal, and there is nothing magical about that, it is just the way things are, and sometimes we have to raise our voice because the music is too loud and let your clothes move to a powerful bass, sound waves and bright lights, powerful like the sun, blinding us if we stare for too long, but isn't it the biggest sign of love, like singing to a corn field, and all acts of kindness that are not pitiful nor utilitarian, that are truly horizontal as everything around us is impregnated with the deadliest violence, vertical and systemic, poisonous, and sometimes you just want to feel the sun burning your skin and look for life in all things declared dead, a kind of vitality that operates like corrosion, strong as the wind near the sea, transforming all things,