Common accidents are-

I was a cyclist... until a cycling buddy died in a bike accident that freaked me out.  I completely get slowing, looking, and rolling through on not-very-busy stop signs.  Lights, if the light wouldn’t change for me and nobody was around, I’d go through after stopping for a bit.  But man, there are some egregiously…

I realize this could very easily describe Speedway, another Elvis film with a song about paying your taxes.  No kidding, there’s a song about how you should pay your taxes, because Sam’s your uncle, not your dad.  I guess the big difference is Nancy Sinatra is the best part, not Ann Margaret.

I just rewatched this one earlier this week... Talk about a waste of a talented cast. I also am an imbecile about cars but even I rolled my eyes when they got to technical dialogue about water being converted to hydrogen by a “catalytic converter.”

Russians are not known for having nice asses, so I wouldn’t describe them as exactly thicc...

I will hate watch marathons of Bar Rescue.  The dude turns every bar he meets into an Applebee’s.  But hey, looks like it works out for a fair amount of them, so what do I know.

True!  I’ve never seen it performed properly, in real life.  Maybe I’m silly to think this is a Minnesota thing.

Weird... I thought the Sonic was also a rebadged Daewoo.  Not dying is heraldic in the age of affordable beauty for me.

As a driver of a formerly rental Sonic, bring back humble hatchbacks.  They are quite capable little cars.

It seems all the most useful videos are of unbalanced people who remind me of the weird neighbors I used to have in my weird white trash hometown.  I actually look for bad hair and missing teeth in the thumbnails before clicking now.

I remember in the 80s being very worried because my mother was speaking to a friend who said she was going through a mental health issue and knew she was going crazy because she dreamed in color.  So it seemed to my kid brain that dreaming in color was a sign of mental illness.  Naturally, I always dreamed in color so…

I remember in the 80s being very worried because my mother was speaking to a friend who said she was going through a mental health issue and knew she was going crazy because she dreamed in color.  So it seemed to my kid brain that dreaming in color was a sign of mental illness.  Naturally, I always dreamed in color so…

I was not raised to be a wrencher.  My first car was a ‘74 bug, and my father would take it away for any maintenance without letting me even watch what was happening.  I probably started with light bulbs myself.  I then didn’t own a car for many years and was well into my thirties before I started doing things on my…

The community pages in my neighborhood are infuriating.  There’s one interchange that’s notoriously bad (52-94, for you locals) that gets so many people feeling hurt about people using the available space before merging in.  I’ve lived here for twenty years, and will apparently forever be an outsider for my merging…

Minnesota and our passive aggressive reluctance to embrace the zipper merge.  Everyone gets over three miles early and makes stern faces at anybody who uses the rest of the road and merges after they’ve deemed it prudent.

Also, has an influencer ever posted a negative post about a product or service?

One that my ex wife used to do that squicked me out- the trash can lid.  She would remove the lid and put it on the counter when adding trash to the can or removing the bag.

Granite Falls. We even got Rolling Stone famous at one point:

I grew up in Meth-town USA (a little shithole half an hour into the mountains from Everett) and I’m surprised it’s taken this long.  My childhood home was stripped of all the copper decades ago.  It is a sinister place, Snohomish County.

A few years back, I had jury duty on a civil case where a guy ignored all the construction signs to ride his bike through the construction zone, and clotheslined himself on some cable that was stretched across a closed path, doing construction things. It’s just human nature to think screaming orange signs don’t really …