Girls with Insurance

I got arrested three weeks ago for public intoxication, failure to obey a lawful order, and disturbing the peace. There is no peace where there are fucking police. That's what I say. But who the fuck am I?

I took time out of my life to read this thing by this guy named Steve Roggenbuck and, like most poor decisions, I found myself asking what the fuck did I just I sit in this library for this long reading this for? There are worse ways to waste your time, yeah, but I'm just saying: what the fuck? And look at this guy. He weighs 95 pounds and pretty clearly thinks he's clever. This is the kind of guy that is fashionably thin and functionally incapable. Something. I just wanted to take a second to talk shit on him, because fuck him. Actually, though, this one struck me as being worth the 8 to 10 seconds my eyes flashed over it:

The ride from North Dakota to New Mexico was three days. It was a lot of money, too. I have no idea why I picked up and packed off to New Mexico. It was random enough that I didn't question it very much. I handed over cash to the bus people, they gave me the ticket, and several hours later I boarded the bus with most of my possessions in my backpack. I felt good about everything. Before leaving, I cashed all my checks. I am still carrying a lot of money.

[Editor's note: in lieu of a column, Mr. Puma sent in a link to the following 3 hour documentary. While we generally don't make it our business to be educational in nature, the content of this particular video is too compelling to be ignored. Henry thanks you for your patience while he half-bakes the fifth (really fourth) installment of "Fault Line." -phm]

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