Saturday, September 9, 2006
Don’t call me chicken! The old two-door Chevy had for many years been a fixture in our chicken yard. Then one day we noticed something strange. The chickens or someone had put some makeshift wings on the old car. Well that very night they made a break for it, flew the coupe they did. Then the cows started selling their pies, believe me, Pepperidge Farm they weren’t. Most accounts said they were downright crappy. We wanted to sell the pigs for Canadian bacon, but they wouldn’t say “eh” no matter... Sign in to see full entry.
It’s the end of the weak
Friday rolls around. Particularly if you are filthy rich and you are riding home in your Rolls Royce. Do Rolls Royces come with a jar of Grey Poupon? A car like that is said to ride as if one were floating on a cloud. Well, my ’76 GMC pickup rides like a cloud too, a thundercloud hanging over an airport near an artillery range. Not only that, you get a good view of the road slipping by your feet where the floorboards are rusted out. This truck has a feature not found on many rigs. The gas gauge... Sign in to see full entry.