I went for a walk this morning. The air was

I went for a walk this morning. The air was crisp and bright and 36 degrees. The upper layer of soil had lifted due to the frost. My steps crushed the soil with a crunching sound.

Without warning, a heavily armed Mexican gang sprung up from the vegetation. As panic built behind my eyeballs like pressurized water I wondered what choices I had -- I had none.

Unfortunately this did no good for my eye pressure, and with a loud *pop* they both flew out and into the faces of the closest Mexican insurgents.

Because a wise old seer had once told me this would happen, I had luckily implanted razor-edged micro beads into my eyes, and they embedded themselves into the hostiles' front line

documentary about the mortgage crisis started by Greenspan. The Producer of Front Line yelled at them to "get out of frame." But they were members of Straight Edge and

tired of driving across country in their mini-van, hopping from one college town to the next, in a desperate attempt to promote their anti-drug/sex/booze life-style. Even the Jenga

was pornographic to these teetotalers, what with all those devil's blocks sliding in and out of slots. Filthy game. It got to be exhausting cataloging all the sin. Their mini-van

's rusty axels groaned under weight of the sin of the world. A heavy, heavy load it was with all those blocks & slots & whatnots. Sister Nubbins was at the wheel when a tire blew,

came loose and went flying into the grandstand at The 24 hours of Le Mans killing 122 people. Sister Nubbins legacy was that her actions resulted improvements in safety standands.