This wet summer comes down on us dripping wet and nibbling on our ankles. It's time for some of that good old fashioned Americana. The superstar stuff of champions. The sort of inkling that creeps into your blood, sending jitters down your spine. There you find yourself; sprinting barefoot on that oozy asphalt towards that chrome ball of dreams: the playground.
Lick your lips, gathering in all that salty anticipation. The parade of play! The paragon of ultimate childhood fun! Though seemingly aged to the heavens (a musky 21) I am so enamored by these metal beasts and their accompanying slides, bridge, and knee sores. Long live the imagination! Here I am: Captain Explorer! In the land of youth they were everything. Now? I see homeless guys sleeping in one sometimes; it reeks of urine.
Let's go back to church people...
NOT IT!
BUT NOT FOR THE SHOW OF SHOWS... CORVETTES!
Serena Williams? Pfffttt. Everybody know Obama gon' be the first black president.
My name is Shelton Quarrels. I played corner back for the Tampa Buccaneers. I'm coming to eat your cookies!
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