A lot of folks in West Sacramento for instance. Condos near Raley Field have never remained on the market for long. Hell, if I could have afforded one when they were available I would have purchased one. 

That damn UNIMOG is lust-worthy...

Outback.

He sounds like a Very Fine Person, no?

My dad was a hot-rodder in his day, having owned ‘34 and ‘37 Ford coupes (Mopar power in both) and a ‘49 Merc. As a kid in Bakersfield in the ‘50s, he also worked at Ralph’s Piston Ring Service, so engines were his thing.

Puig tends to react (or overreact) to every bad swing he takes or every pitch he thinks shouldn’t be a strike.  I find his antics sort of hilarious actually.

Time for SPACE FORCE!

My thoughts exactly.

Point taken...

I’m not sure how steep the learning curve is for not leaving shit in the middle of the sidewalk and otherwise not being a dick, but sure.

That name basically translates to “Turd” in my mind when I see or hear it.

So long, shit-eyes.

My best friend’s ‘72 MGB was most effective in this regard.

‘Merica!

Former TS 185 owner here. I really miss that machine!

Bowl of soup with that hat?

Hahaha!

The levers in my house are at exactly the right height to catch the belt loops on my bathrobe. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten a face-full of door as a result.

I hate you.