Meh. It will probably prove to be overpriced and unreliable, and they will probably sell every one they bring over here.

I would watch it too till the PTSD of that era comes back. 

I almost kind of regret selling back my 2010 Jetta TDI with about 110,000 trouble-free miles on it - it was a magnificent car, my dear old Sophie. That said, I replaced it with a 2017 Alltrack SEL - Francis - that beats it by every conceivable measure, save gas mileage. Even then I see highway mileage in the mid to…

Good luck and much respect to him for walking away while he could. I never got to see him play much because I’m in the east and he’s been out with an injury for seemingly most of his career and because he plays for the Colts, but he was a fantastic talent playing for a toilet bowl of a franchise.

Who are these people? Where do they come from? Do they even shower?

The only kind of graftyesque welfare-queening that the Cons can get behind are the ones where they get a piece of the pie.

Honestly, I’ve seen worse stock interiors. It looks like a diligent and competent job. 

It’s a pretty stupid non-comparison. 

He’s got a stool and a fancy uniform. He’s doing quite well for himself.

Nein. You cannot. 

Before or during your match on Warsaw?

“Sir,” Gil Hodges - Gil Hodges! People say he’s the Greatest Met! Greater that Mike Cubbage! Or Tim Tebow! - “Sir,” he says to me, tears - tears! From Gil Hodges, the Greatest Baseball Player ever, Better than Reggie Jackson! Tears! Isn’t Ivanka beautiful? Tears running down the face of Gil Hodges, The Greatest Met -…

I have difficulty choking down their politics. I know. It’s too early in the day to be thinking about and making breakfast choices based on that, but it’s just where I am these days.

He’s a ridiculous and deceitful piece of shit. There are still days when I wake up and allow myself to be surprised that he was ever “elected.”

Bravo, really. 

It’s a gorgeous car. I’d buy one. 

Grandpa Goebbels must be <i>so proud</i> of his little Stevie!

No pictures of the interior? 

It’s utterly fucking batshit that we still even need to have this conversation. Yet here we are.

There are three Popeyes just far enough away from where I live to make going there a considered decision. The closest one is essentially a u-turn on the NYS Thruway and about 15 minutes away; Mrs. Fishes (an otherworldly patient woman) would just shake her head sadly if I ever admitted to having done that.