The number one reason I have to make a fortune, is because I need to be able to afford to have someone drive me around. I am Hell on Wheels.
Last night -- before I started drinking, mind you -- I was turning around on a dead end street 'cause I missed my turn. Backing up I took out somebody's mailbox and of course fled the scene. Now there is a big scratch on the back of my truck which is not cool. Slight dent on the second "O" in "Toyota".
I'm over at Booga's house