Woofer, the 170 pound Irish Wolfhound, backed his new owners to the couch and to their amazement, began speaking.
"Listen folks, this is how it's going to be…"
Woofer, the 170 pound Irish Wolfhound, backed his new owners to the couch and to their amazement, began speaking.
"Listen folks, this is how it's going to be…"
There are a lot of fucking idiots on the streets, pardon my French. So it's a matter of necessity that you employ defensive driving techniques, lest you end up being a maroon smear on the pavement. I say this because I've had to share the road with such idiots in the rain in both San Francisco and NYC these last couple of weeks.
Over the years, I've found myself unconsciously acting on certain defensive patterns while driving. So I decided to write them down here. Maybe one day, these will become lessons I pass onto my kids.
Or maybe one day, I'll write a book, get filthy rich, then hire a chauffeur so I never have to deal with those fucking idiots on the streets anymore.
"Eat your brussel sprouts, Jimmy," his mother said. "They'll make you grow big and strong, just like the Hulk."
Jimmy frowned and pecked his brussel sprouts. He didn't like how they tasted, but he knew his mother was right. Mother was always right.
It was my first ever alcohol-induced black-out. I'll never forget it. Except for the black-out itself, which, well, I'll never remember.
It's finally happened! This site has been redesigned. Oh happy happy joy joy! You can finally let go of your breath now.
This site is now centered on my Rambles, weekly stories on random topics published on Sunday nights (usually, although if life gets busy, I may miss a Sunday). I decided to make my Rambles the main attraction because that's what the vast majority of you seem to want.
(And if not, please let me know what you DO want!) (And no, I'm not going to give you free porn.)