ANGER, redux
I am watching endless amounts of Fox Soccer Channel and catching up on all of the Wayne Rooney temper tantrums of the past year.
I am driving the Ford Ranger through sultry nights in Downtown Austin, watching The Black Heart Procession at The Parish by my lonesome with lots of large-breasted women-folk and hip-looking men-folk milling about, sucking on small straws full of whiskey sours, etc, and trying not to hit deer. Don't hit deer, I tell myself. Hitting deer means a broken Ford Ranger, I tell myself. A broken Ford Ranger means an angry father roused from the comfortable confines of 2 a.m. high thread count sheets. Don't hit the deer.
I am hoping that we (DANGERS) can manage to sell 300 records or compact discs at $10 a pop. Can it be done? We shall see. That being said, updated with some MP3's and whatnot: http://www.wearedangers.com
Back to Old Tratford,
Al
I am driving the Ford Ranger through sultry nights in Downtown Austin, watching The Black Heart Procession at The Parish by my lonesome with lots of large-breasted women-folk and hip-looking men-folk milling about, sucking on small straws full of whiskey sours, etc, and trying not to hit deer. Don't hit deer, I tell myself. Hitting deer means a broken Ford Ranger, I tell myself. A broken Ford Ranger means an angry father roused from the comfortable confines of 2 a.m. high thread count sheets. Don't hit the deer.
I am hoping that we (DANGERS) can manage to sell 300 records or compact discs at $10 a pop. Can it be done? We shall see. That being said, updated with some MP3's and whatnot: http://www.wearedangers.com
Back to Old Tratford,
Al
posted by Alfred Brown IV at 1:02 PM
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