…conversations which go from inspirational teenagers to sweatshops to, well, things that would make you shake your head… Continue reading
AND… my giant knife. I’d taken it with me for slicing bread, but realized it was great for scaring perfectly harmless, kind old men who worried about gypsy women camped out in questionable vans. Continue reading
I assured them that I’m not a psycho axe murderer, or well, any kind of axe murderer at all.
I think they feel good having that clarified. Continue reading
Carry your licence with you at all times, people, because, apparently, showing your iPhone Facebook Profile Pic is not a viable form of identification when stopped by the police. Continue reading
I see the thin, glowing line of this season of our lives stretching out. I see a season of so many exciting firsts, and the ache of lasts… Continue reading
I’m still not 100% certain how any of it works, although judging from the injuries coming off the field, I’d say Rugby’s official slogan is: lose your marbles and your fancy man-bits. Continue reading