10 February 2015

​So I'm sitting at the bar (having dinner), three stools over from a happy hour talker. A cop between shifts, married awhile (to wife number take-your-best-guess), railing about his mother-in-law and her tendency to "just walk the hell right in.  What if I'm doin' my damn wife on the effin' piano?!?!" "Do I have a... Continue Reading →

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