Some maniac tried to kill me with a crop duster. I've got a job, a secretary, a mother, two ex-wives and several bartenders that depend upon me, and I don't intend to disappoint them all by getting myself "slightly" killed. Not that I mind a slight case of abduction now and then, but I have tickets for the theater this evening, to a show I was looking forward to and I get, well, kind of *unreasonable* about things like that. What the devil is all this about?
posted by theostandsfornothing on Apr 1, 2014 - 21 comments