My second car was a GL wagon manual. A very trusty car in the Winter, but that anemic engine made any hill climb a bit of an adventure. Especially on I-70 west of Denver.

I had to look closer to see that it was supposed to be toast; it looked at first glance to be beans on a kitchen sponge.

Lickers get beaten within an inch of their lives.

Normally when faced with these kinds of things, I just move on to another store, but I was feeling a bit spicy that day and wanted to pin this guy down  with the actual regulations. Also, I got a blog out of it. 

As a British-American it’s always really fun to watch Americans foam at the mouth about the British monarchy. Like, do you hate them or wish you were them? You don’t live there, why care?

Seriously, does nobody here know about the legend.

Seriously, someone dropped the ball in vetting this one. Not only does their chicken suck, but they don’t fulfill the basic needs of being open when the rest center is.

Well we’re parking here in Allentown

I flew Frontier one time, back when I flew to St Louis to cover the Mike Brown protests. Flying out was okay, though it was a budget airline so no frills, but I had two carry-on bags, a backpack and a camera bag. The SFO lady was very nice, but when I was heading back from STL, the check-in lady absolutely said no way…

“No one is above an ass whuppin’”

Some people just need to get beat up once in a while to give their Narcissisms a check. Though I am glad it ended peacefully.

A few are even true!  

I think it’s more a practicality / safety thing. Putting a helipad on a sailboat seems like a rotor blade vs mast and/or sail accident waiting to happen.

Yeah, we have places here in PA we call “lick and stick”, cause basically you just pay for the inspection, and they stick an inspection sticker on the car, no questions asked.

I had an invisible boat years ago and my insurance company has yet to reimburse me for the accident that caused it to sink.

One Kenworth slid in there somehow.

They’re in lovely shape, but I can’t help but feel that all of their owners are ordering (too many) parts from the same JC Whitney catalog.

A sea of lifted Wranglers and Bro Cummins.  

I see you've booked your Amtrak ticket to destination: fucked.