Something about dead flies and jars of perfume

When we last saw Your Humble Narrator, he had just brought his vehicle’s resale value down by about two-thirds as the result of hilly terrain, a temporarily mobile home, high velocity and his own slow wit.

Also a guardrail. Also that.

But I was all right, and after checking under the now-bent hood, determined things looked alright, so I determined to drive on. I had a wedding in South Texas to get to, after all, and just hours to cover all the miles.

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It was the bad karma from 10,000 dead butterflies

People often ask me what happened to the front of my car.

It used to be pretty, but for the past few months, the front near the license plate has been well-crunched.

So I say, “I was dodging a house.” Then they laugh and say, “It jumped right out in front of you, huh?” And I say, “Well…”

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The cartoon virus makes the world a more colorful place

The other day, I realized I probably enjoy Facebook a little too much, or at least for the wrong reasons. The social network super giant makes it almost too easy to creep — or rather keep up with everyone you kinda sorta met one time. Or might someday.

But Facebook is a lovely thing, as much as it is a monster.

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