TAKE THAT, ROBERT DOWNEY, JR.!
In Massachusetts, however, you would simply rocket off the first highway and, without decreasing your speed in the slightest, shoot blindly into the whirling, deadly traffic of The Rotary - which we now refer to as “The Killin’ Wheel” - and then aim your car at the exit spoke, put the pedal to the metal, and hope for the best.
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THE THREE COMPLAINTS OF JASON TOEWS
I have come to believe that the resident in Unit 73 - in clear violation of Regency Park Community Association policy - is operating a breeding and training facility for Mexican fighting dogs, or else some kind of long-term boarding kennel for incontinent llamas.
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MAX AND JASON: DAYS 9 AND 10
On our journey across these United States, Max and I drove over 3600 miles. Now, if Max hadn’t drifted off onto I-94, that number would be about 250 miles lower, but still: That’s quite a drive.
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MAX AND JASON: DAY 8
If you plan on staying at the Courtyard Marriott in Washington, D.C., make sure you request the “adult-size” sheets. Otherwise, they may give you the baby sheets.
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MAX AND JASON: DAY 7
Like Harvey Keitel in “Bad Lieutenant” I wanted to bust a cap in that damn radio’s ass, but I kept my service revolver holstered and we eventually arrived in Washington, D.C.
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MAX AND JASON: DAY 6
“I will not eat at any restaurant that urges me to visit their ‘World Famous Gravy Bar’.”
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MAX AND JASON: DAY 5
So we sped into Chicago singing along to Led Zeppelin- “Goin’ to Chicago... Going to Chicago... Sorry but I can't take you...” which is probably like some life goal of mine that I hadn’t realized before.
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MAX AND JASON: DAYS 3 AND 4
Somebody is doing a brisk business selling embroidered patches which read “Helmet Laws Suck”.
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