No. 169 - The Hair Dryer Called Austin
697 Words. 3 Minute Read.
The air was brittle, blanketing, obnoxious. Austin is like living in the path of a massive hair dryer—morning, noon, and night.
No. 167 - Cabs in Austin & Versailles
973 Words. 4 Minute Read.
As any man knows, there’s a point of no testicular return. It happens upon the submergence of Frick and Frack, when the boys and the central nervous system screech in unison—when a man would just as soon take a Louisville Slugger to the cranium as dip the old coin purse in chilly water.
No. 165 - Golf, Gunsmoke, and Juicy Fruit
342 Words. 2 Minute Read.
A blind man could’ve offered a better reading over the yardage markers, and the pin flags—what was left of them—were as threadbare as an old man’s underwear.