The day began with bushwacking. My daughter and took a sweaty hike through the bush.
That was great.
We went to the heritage village where I found some great material for some fresh stories about my nanny - including one on 1940’s birth control - it will drop soon!
That was wonderful too.
As the long shadows of a late summer evening stretched across the land, things went haywire. We were on our way to the barn to prep for a horse show the next day and things got a bit hectic quickly. Coming down the hill just past the hypermarket when I realized that I didn’t have any gas left in the truck.
I pressed on the brakes.
Nothing happened.
In a second, all of the trash talk about Dodge truck we just saw being dragged onto a flatbed disappeared. Friends don’t let friends drive a Dodge. Dodge trucks, extra styling to make up for a small penis.
Then there was the line I used unknowingly about my cousin’s Dodge pick-up unknowingly while talking with her father, my uncle: Who owns that giant shiny red …
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