Apparently, I have a bit of a temper. I sleep better these days but it’s still dreamless. I’ve done major, irreparable damage to both shoulders using a combination of alcohol, punk rock, softball and comando rolls. I probably hate you already, I find that it’s easier to let you start out there and let you dig your way out of the whole. My liver is probably stronger than yours.
I’m a huge fan of beer, bikes, baseball, Biology, Biochemistry, Biotechnology, Boston, Boston accents, broads with Boston accents, bars, playing baseball blasted then riding bikes to bars to drink beers with broads watching baseball. And, um… alliteration.
I’m not a huge fan of people who go on duck tours, tourists in general, kids who come to my city from other parts of the country and start riots, people in riots who are surprised when they get shot in the face, people who talk shit about cops, cops who give people reason to talk shit about other cops, people who talk about the poker hand they had last night, people who push the walk button but don’t wait for the light, people who push the walk button on a street with little to no traffic, people with small children who don’t push the walk button at all, people who strap child seats to bikes and then put children in said child seat, people who don’t oil their bike chains, people who misuse their gearing (SHIFT, motherfucker!), people who beat up bikes locked to parking meters on their way home from the Kells. Once, just once, I’d love to see it happen.
