Crackdown or how I learned to forget my vagina and love blowing up cars
Ah, the car driving, face stomping, prostitute stabbing joy of theGTAgeneration. I’m not going to lie to you, reader. I didn’t fully “get it.” I thought to truly get it, I had to have two warm sacs of testicle nestled safely beneath my pant zipper. I watched my male friends holler with joy as they rammed impossibly expensive cars into buildings and knifed unsuspecting passerby. I had tried it, but somehow I kept thinking: I’d rather be playingSecret of Evermoreright now....