The thirty year anniversary of my first time seeing boobs is coming up soon. I know this because the thirty year anniversary of the Breakfast Club is coming up and we couldn't get in to see it so we made out all over the mall culminating with a feel up behind the Best store. The lesson: if you don't let your kids see rated R movies, they end up in sexual shenanigans behind some obscure, one day defunct, business.
It's anarchy in LA. And San Diego. And Oakland. Sorry, but nobody cares about you St. Louis.
My Chargers and the goddamnoaklandraiders are in bed together. I hope my buddy Charles-In-Charge is right and it's all just a ploy to keep the Rams out of LA and make their respective cities finally get off their ass. I have little faith in the city of San Diego. That's a case study in inept governance.
Then again, if I give up football I won't really give a shit.
It's a weird thing, suicide. It's like you decide, okay, this is where my story ends. And then the rest of the world you built get...
A lot of you have asked what happened that made me want to drink during the tour. Well, I didn't want to write about it because I didn...