I’m thinking that I need to start watching football, but then what would I do with my angst and pent up rage? I’m not planning on being a Tampa Bay fan. I’m not that crazy.
We learned today that the gassy smell in the vicinity of the car was, in fact, gas. Fortunately, my not-blown-up-in-a-fireball wife took it into the shop, and they figured out that our “no smoking” policy probably added 20 or so years to our lives. It cost us this year’s “Best Neighborhood Explosion” trophy, but them’s the breaks.
Sometimes not burning to death while speeding down the highway is the right thing to do.
Now you know, and knowing is half the battle.