The "great revolution" so evident the first time I was stuck here with many choppers at that other building was apparently cancelled.
May I have my FAA e-mail back?
Not yet?
Man, it was just like a movie!
Homeless girl fisticuffs on the street.
They notice, as with closing time, who you leave with.
Later, as I watched the cop helicopter, for the record I said:
"Easy to fuck up. Nice. Windy. Practicing? Ah ha, you big brown and black turds."
St. Louis, add HELICOPTER NOISE.
This here is Los Angeles, where when a guy with a Dodgers T-shirt on passes as you buy your not terribly healthy Cheetohs Puffs at the gas station and says, "Fuck 'em," it means the ball club is on board. No press conference? Tommy Lasorda died? Vin? Not yet?
I did not look at my stolen watch, soldiers.
As we said in North St. Louis, "A freckle past the hair," meaning we did not care. How long was our baseball/football practice? Till dark or little brother brought a message from momma.
Cell phone? Only grandpa Howard had one in 1966.
HE DROWNED IN THUN? Almost! Right Marko/Dino 790?
5,000 piddly watts? Disgraceful! Need more power, Scotty!
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