Sunday Bag o’ Dyslexic Orange Wreckage
My dyslexia is not the normal kind.
"Your one-stop source for improper ideology and freedom seeds."
What was (and might have been)
My dyslexia is not the normal kind.
Bitch all you want about Boomers, we do try to stay up with the times.
Hola, amigos! It’s been a while since I’ve posted a bag’s worth o’ miscellany.
What, to the American slave, is your 4th of July?
That, right there, is where I spent the first four years of my flying career: Vance AFB in Enid, Oklahoma.
You probably think I’m being immature. Have you met any fighter pilots lately?
Pro tip: a suicide knob on the steering wheel is a must for driving with a dog in your lap.
The dogs get me up at oh-five-hundred hours every day. I let them out back to do their business, then pad into the kitchen to prepare their breakfast. As I filled their bowls with kibble yesterday, I remembered the coronation and turned on the TV to watch. Good on you, Charles, king at last. And you too, Camilla.