
I can think of three, right off the top of my head...
-USC-Texas, for the '05 title. That one is growing in nauseating importance, in terms of how it's sticking in my craw.
It's a fucking cancer.
-The hottest cheerleader for my high school, this ridiculously wicked little brunette. Even something as simple as bus rides together with her to away games felt completely magical to me.
It's nearly thirty years later now and for some reason I find myself thinking about her more lately than I did twenty years ago.
-Had an offer to be a road test writer/editor for a major motorcycle magazine. I would've really liked doing that as a career, and I was good at it.
Would've required a move back to L.A., for not enough money, and I couldn't do that to wifey.
Had to take a pass on it.
Turns out, one of the guys who ended up getting the gig is still there, all these years later.
He recently crashed, on Angeles Crest Hwy, doing a road test, and now he's paralyzed from the waist down.
Why the fuck did Reggie lateral, and where were the spies on VY???
GODDAMMIT!!
Lefty, I know you've led a charmed life, so you probably don't have any. That being the case, I don't care if you have to make something up, you better come up with something here, just to appease the Misery Loves Company gods...
The rest of, other than, oh, Moorese and 88, don't give me any crap. You're all worthless and weak, so I know you've got something of your own to add to this thread.
Hell, even Smackie Chan. Welll, okay, maybe not.
But that fucker mvscal, something set him off, and Nick didn't just wake up this psychotic out of the blue.
Then there's that whole twisted trichotomy with the Mgo/Ana Cong/Pog Impaler love triangle. Something shit the bed, for that to've happened.
Then there's m2...