It started with a fortuitous drop of a radish into the split-leather pouch of my trusty slingshot. Fast forward two decades. This is a running compilation of snapshots and notes from days gone by.
Sunday, August 14, 2005
What smell?
When Schwack was a kid, he rolled backwards on a bigwheel into the street. He hit his head on the bumper of a car and it knocked the smell right out of him. Yep, Schwack can't smell.
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