Fuck Nathan Bedford Forrest, today’s the day I’m getting my car back.
I’m going to get it right now!
Come on, don’t lie. It’s my youthful exuberance uncoupled from reality that keeps you reading, isn’t it?
Fuck Nathan Bedford Forrest, today’s the day I’m getting my car back.
I’m going to get it right now!
Come on, don’t lie. It’s my youthful exuberance uncoupled from reality that keeps you reading, isn’t it?
A. Carter reports it; I disbelieve it. But LexisNexis confirms it. So there you go. Today is Nathan Bedford Forrest day.
I will be celebrating by kissing all women with the last name of Lewis that I encounter today right on the cheek.
I, Aunt B., do solemnly swear to really take into consideration and not just in some passing “Oh, that’s by where I work” way, Mr. Roboto’s unimpressed opinion of restaurants from here on out, so help me god.
So, I liked Granite Falls and I loved the Patio Burger and I miss it, but I’m willing to move on if the place that’s taking its place is decent. Shoot, you dump me; I’ll fuck your brother. I don’t care. It just means I don’t have to learn a whole new family’s names.
A bunch of us went down to the Corner Pub and, I must say, I felt like I was at a loony bin. I thought the place was too hot (thought I appreciate that trying to air condition any place with that many windows on a day like today is a challenge) and the cheese dip was not just full of jalapenoes, as Roboto claimed, but that it was more like cheese water instead of actual cheese surrounding said bits of jalapenoes.
I got this thing which turned out to be a glorified roast beef sandwich–$8. I then paid more for fries. I will give it up for the fries because they are wiggly and we all know how I love wiggly fries. But I had to ask to have my drink refilled.
And the sandwich? I’ve had better at Arby’s and I didn’t have to pay $8 for it.
Some of us had the pulled pork. Passable but not that great. Others of us had the fried chicken, which was very good. And one of us got the salad with salmon. It was huge! But looking at my meal and the salad and seeing them both at the same price? I felt like a chump.
But when we left, that place was packed, so maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about.
I just was not that impressed. Also, they didn’t paint the inside so it’s still those weird melon colors.
So, there you go. If you want to take me out for lunch, let’s not go there.
1. Do I believe that “To over-simplify, city folks have the luxury of economic opportunity and social/cultural interactions but the burden of responsibility to those around them; rural folks the luxury of independence but the burden of self-sufficiency.” is true? I don’t know. I want to but I keep thinking about meth. If we have the luxury of independence, why do we squander it on meth?
2. Do libertarians believe that it would be okay for a person to refuse to read?
3. I asked this of Sarcastro, I’m asking it of you now: Are the Wayans making a movie career out of ripping of Warner Brothers cartoons?
Return to 2. What I mean, in a broader sense, is that I still don’t understand how y’all define community and what obligations–if any–you feel to it and what benefits–if any–you derive from being a part of it.
You may wonder why I would take DayQuil if it makes me crazy and weepy and unconscious and miserable. And folks, that is because today I feel almost back to normal. I have a slight tickle in my nose and my throat is raw and dry. But that’s it.
From misery to normality in six big orange pills… It’s not always worth the day of fucked-up-ness, but sometimes it is.