On Hubris and Photographic Evidence
When: Summer of '92
Where: A miniature golf course just off the highway, somewhere in Connecticut.
Who: A carload of friends (a bit hungover) looking for a Roy Rogers.
Why: Sure seemed like a good idea at the time, of course.
What: "OK, whoever loses the next hole has to dry-hump the life-size fiberglass gorilla."
Opinion and commentary, garnished with a sprig of cynicism, served with a heaping side order of sarcasm, and washed down with a tall glass of common sense, by a gun-toting political refugee from the People's Progressive Republic of Massachusetts, currently residing in New Hampshire and doing what he can to keep the Granite State beautiful and free.
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