One crazy ride.

I was driving to my mullet support group, AMA (American Mullets Anonymous) when at a stoplight I was surrounded by fourteen 72 year old midgets wearing Rip Taylor costumes. I maintained composure, but when they brought the farm raised corn fed chickens into the equation thats when things got a bit out of hand. I'll spare you the grim details, for the entire story would take up half the free space on the internet to type but I will tell you this... it involved a Clydesdale 1.2 inches tall named Tim Fraunch injured in a pole vaulting experiment, a back molar tricked out of the mouth of ferret by a pro con-man, and a medium sized picnic table that I have personally taught how to sing any Michael Jackson song on command. It wasn't until then, I gained control of the situation, and made it to my meeting 3 minutes late. It's cool though, I'm always 3 minutes late.

-DR