Crash, Crash, A Healing Touch, Guinness, Underwear, and Some Dancing
December 17th 2005 “Bloody Hogwash!”
Tuesday, 3:30 p.m. We’re in a car returning from Duckenfield when we get in our second car accident of the day. This one, we think, is not our fault. This one, we explain to the giant Rasta man and his two accomplices walking toward us, could not possibly be our fault. But let’s reverse a bit for some back story, shall we?
Tuesday, 8:15 a.m.[/b
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