This feels like the perfect metaphor for America, especially as you get farther and farther out from a city center. Old, yellowed, pus-filled, dying of cancer, full of paranoia and fear, rotting from the inside-out.
As a Sabres fan every time I see highlights of McDavid it pains me to know we were THIS close to getting the next Crosby.
HIT EM WITH THE HEEEEIIIINNNNNNNNnnnnn
Around the time they charted course for the land of the almighty tourist dollar. TBF - there’s only one brew pub (MBC), and Kinfolks has been converted into a generic whitewashed watering hole. And I think we only have like 4 or 5 coffee houses, pretty standard for a tourist town.
As an actual Manitou resident, stumbling upon a poop pile just off the beaten path is unfortunately common.
Point of clarification: Auto-correct on a New Englander’s phone.
FALSE! It can be quite enjoyable if you prepare for your trip ahead of time.
For me it’s “account”. Mix up a ‘c’ and the ‘o’ and you’re going to have a bad day.
CO-CO-CO-CO-CO-CO-COCAAAIIIIINNNEE!
Do you have a bush probably? Orrr....
My days with Noro will never leave me, forever haunt me to the grave. The most frightening phase was Pre-evacuation. Muscles locking and freezing into place while in the shower, I’m panic-stricken imagining what illness had befallen me, falling to my knees in the tub. My hands have no feeling save the tingly numby…
I didn’t laugh at any of the Deadspin staff’s entries, this one had me cracking up. Kudos to you Lou!
Doug Whaley: Hold my Genny Cream Ale!
Or the 95% of population who don’t care about hockey will continue living their lives as if nothing important happened.
Not completely far-fetched... this was taken a few weeks ago at Steveo’s Tacos in a shit-heel town called Derby about 20 minutes south of Buffalo.
You’re not fooling anyone with that kinja name, Phil.
The perfect match made in hell.