Sunday

whee

Last night I went out with my friend John, who has a fast car. It thinks it has 17-inch wheels but it actually has 18-inch wheels. So when it registered 132 miles per hour down a long, straight, back highway in southern minnesota, it was actually going 139.7. That's pretty goddamned fast. At that speed the cars that I had seen up ahead of us in the distance suddenly appeared right in front of us, but other than that, 139 isn't too different from a hundred.

Elko was closed for rain, so we hit some honky-tonks, and John tried to get us killed by playing Michael Jackson on the jukebox. It didn't work, but it was fun to try. Next time I'm wearing a singlet that says "Fuck the troops and the president". That will do the trick.

Today I'm working late. Congratulations to my family, who caught a fair percentage of the fish in the Atlantic last week. That's cool.

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