Category Archives: My Top Lists

From Top 10’s to Top 5’s and every other number, here are some Top Lists.

Allergies Suck

I’ve had terrible allergies my entire life. I’m pretty sure if I were allergic to one more thing I’d have to live in a plastic bubble.

Well, at least I wouldn't be a Scientologist.

Well, at least I wouldn’t be a Scientologist.

Seriously, I’m allergic to shit that nobody should be allergic to. Like oak trees, dairy products, dogs, cats, birds, bullshit. It’s terrible. Typically every spring I can count on the fact that I’m going to have a sinus infection, I’m going to be completely miserable and useless for a month, and I can only get better if I get medicine that has to be prescribed to me from a doctor.

Except the medicine I need, they don’t easily hand out, and it always costs me an arm and a leg just to do a doctors visit, just to have the prescription written for me, when in reality I should just be able to call them up and say “I need help” and fifteen minutes later I could go to my pharmacy and get my stuff. And I swear to jeebus if one more hack of a “doctor” tells me to try Mucinex I’m going to snap their fucking neck. OH REALLY?! I HAVEN’T THOUGHT TO TRY EVERYTHING READILY AVAILABLE TO ME. Asshat.

Luckily for me, this year anyway, I haven’t had any issues other than the occasional sneeze, which has to go down in the history books. I mean, sinus infection is something I can count on, every year, most of the time twice a year. Not having one in the spring has to be a sign of the impending apocalypse.

With that said, I just discovered a list of 2014’s 50 worst spring allergy cities on The Weather Channel’s website. You can go there to see the actual score of each city (#50 scored 67.8 while #1 scored 100) and a picture of each city, except I wouldn’t trust the pictures so much. For instance, I had no idea Philadelphia looked just like St. Louis.

So here’s the list of cities from 50 to 1. I can’t believe Cincinnati didn’t make the list. It’s okay, though, because the entire rest of Ohio did. Seriously, no other state represented this list quite like Ohio, with 6 of the 50 worst cities.

50. Austin, Texas Continue reading

I Hate Sex

Let’s get one thing straight. I really do love sex. I’m a red blooded human being. Who doesn’t love sex? Hell, as of the last Maury show I caught there are 12 year olds out there who love it. And you can’t go wrong when you hear it from a 12 year old on a day time talk show!

It just occurred to me one day that sex brings up a lot of bad shit. And for the few things that come from it that are truly good, it almost isn’t even a fair fight. The cons take the gold.

So I say that I hate sex as a way to pull you in. A way to get you to read the piece I’m currently in the process of writing. The title of a work of fiction (or something) should be catchy. It should pull the reader in. Grab them from the beginning, so to speak. So with all of us, including some 12 year olds, loving sex as much as we do I figured the title to be a decent hook.

The cons do, however, make it tempting to hate sex. Let’s look at them, shall we?


Porn is everywhere now, and a lot of people are getting into it who might not have been years ago. Such as women. Some women I know love porn as much as any normal man should. Hell, I love porn. As I said before, I’m a red blooded human, and I’m a man.

But what is porn? Technically it’s a way to help couples with sex problems. What it happens to be is a way for 12 year olds to learn how to perform sexual acts by checking out any of the free porn tubes that are now online and that require no age verification to watch countless hours of the good stuff.

What porn is really doing is showing men a bunch of women they’ll never get to have sex with, with a dong they’ll never be able to compete with. What it’s showing women is a bunch of giant dongs they’ll never get to be with (and in some cases women they’d probably be able to nail). The difference is, normal women could land any of those guys (if they found them) because male porn stars will do it with just about anybody. But where do men fall? Yeah, we still can’t tap the behind of those porn divas. So we’re on the losing end, and we’re the target for porn. That discretion makes it evil.

Sex Toys

Sex toys go right along with porn. Typically anybody willing to use sex toys also enjoy porn. And there’s nothing wrong with that. However, these toys are designed with sex in mind. Not making love, not a bunch of FEELINGS, just the primal, natural desire of SEX.

Case in point, these toys are designed, all of them, to get you off. Period. There’s no vibrator designed to cuddle you afterwards and smoke a cigarette with you, holding you and talking about your feelings. There’s no blow up doll designed to cook you a meal and get all dolled up when she goes to meet your parents. No, these toys are there for sex. Dirty nasty sex. EVIL.


Depending on who you ask, babies are a good thing. Unfortunately there are many being had to people for all the wrong reasons and sadly that will never end. I think a child should be a blessing in any situation. BUT, that’s a lot of work, regardless of where you stand on it. Your life is over after you have a kid. And anything that could potentially end your life has got to be evil.


Something that is supposed to be a wonderful thing, something that is supposed to be for the prosperity of the human race, something that is supposed to be a way to feel great while you procreate, can also kill the shit out of you legitimately. How many diseases are there that will drop you dead just because you got your noodle wet? There are so many simplexes of herpes they fucking numbered them.


“In the army they give you a medal for spraying napalm on people, civilian life you go to jail for giving somebody an orgasm. Selling is legal, fucking is legal. Why isn’t selling fucking legal?” – George Carlin

In most places in the United States if you go find a woman who is willing to sleep with you for a little cash, you can go to jail for making that exchange. Yet if you take a woman out on a date, dinner and a movie and then you get lucky, you had a successful date. No jail involved, although depending on the girl you might get handcuffed. But it’s the same thing, only you played it out a little more. You paid money that night for the chance to get some ass. If anything, taking that route as a man is riskier, because there’s no guarantee of a payoff for him. Yet that’s the way our law enforcement wants us to go.

Personally I think it should be legal. Tax them like most cities that allow prostitution, and let them do their thing. In all seriousness, what’s so wrong with it? I’d never go to a prostitute, but what’s wrong with it? Hell, you can go to most trailer parks and find some little skeeze who’ll do you and everybody else for free. That’s legal.

But prostitution isn’t legal so you can go to jail for it. I think this also says that money is evil because that’s the difference between prostitution and free and legal trailer park ass. Money.

Prostitution can send you to jail, potentially give you a few simplexes of herpes and 9 months later you might end up on Maury taking a test to find out if you’re the father of her bastard child. So I’d have to say that it’s pretty evil by those standards.

With all of that going on plus some I’m sure I missed, what’s to like about it? It makes you feel good and in some cases gives you a wanted baby. Sometimes you can even “make love” but that makes you feel good so you’re still left with just two positives.

With the cons outweighing the pros, I think I’m going to have to stand by the title of this blog after all. I hate sex.

4 Reasons Why The Monkees Were Great

First off, let me start by saying that I’m a fan of The Monkees. As a child I used to watch their TV show on reruns (obviously, I’m not THAT old despite what my wife would have you believe) and I’ve always loved their music. Some people, especially huge Beatles fans, tend to hate The Monkees even though The Beatles themselves liked them.

From the TV show to their music, they were great and actually still are. Just a month ago they had yet another tour even though one of the four, Davy Jones, passed away earlier in the year due to a heart attack. Can The Beatles say they’ve toured recently? No. Of course more of them are dead than just one…

So here are my reasons why The Monkees deserve some fucking respect.

4. They Rocked

Despite rumors that have been around as long as they have, The Monkees played their own instruments. Yeah, that’s right, they totally did. Don’t believe me? Go read something. As much as I hate to use Wikipedia as a source for info, I can’t link to a book and have you read that without you actually buying it.

So The Monkees played their own instruments. Interesting. I wonder what else we’ve been lied to about all of these years.

“Wikipedia isn’t a reliable source? Nooo…”

Now let’s get down to it. The music they played was indeed rock, even though they had some slight country heading to the mix. Eventually they wanted to lean more towards blues which can go either way, in country and rock.

They had four number one albums in a one year period. They held the No. 1 spot on the Billboard album chart for 31 consecutive weeks, 37 weeks total. You can’t do that if you don’t put out some decent music.

Their first album The Monkees held the top spot on the Billboard 200 for 13 weeks, after which it was knocked out by their second album, More Of The Monkees. It included their first hit, “Last Train To Clarksville” which as it turns out was a depressing song about going to fight in Vietnam and most likely not coming home from there. Even the Cracked writer who wrote that bit thought they didn’t play their own instruments. Shows what kind of research they do.

“Hey Hey we’re The Monkees, and people say we monkey around!” Yup, now it’ll be stuck in your head all day.

Take the last train to Clarksville now I must hang up the phone
I can’t hear you in this noisy railroad station all alone
I’m feelin’ low oh no no no, oh no no no
And I don’t know if I’m ever coming home

Depressing shit, but the song was a fun-filled number you could dance to, so people loved it. Plus, you know, it was The Monkess, and they were top shit then.

3. Jimi Hendrix Opened For Them

That’s right, guitar/rock legend Jimi Hendrix opened for The Monkees. As you can imagine it didn’t go over well, because well, their music styles are completely different. There weren’t a lot of drugged out rockers in the crowd at a Monkees show. At least not then anyway. During one of the shows, Jimi Hendrix finally had enough of the audience booing him and gave them the finger before walking off the stage and quitting the tour. And now he’s dead.

2. They Had A Hit TV Show

Sure The Beatles had some hit movies, but The Monkees had a hit TV show. In the scheme of things that doesn’t mean much, but The Monkees TV show, aptly titled “The Monkees” can be shown in reruns and syndication. The Beatles can’t say that.

The Monkees TV show first hit the airwaves in 1966 and went until 1968 before stopping production on new shows. It went into syndication in 1969 and has been reran multiple times up until the 1980’s. Because of the syndication, they sold even more albums and had more success, including more tours which were critically acclaimed.

1. They Still Tour

As I said at the top of this article, The Monkees just had a tour in the U.S. even though Davy Jones passed away on February 29, 2012. From Wikipedia (AGAIN?!), “The brief tour marked the first time Nesmith performed with the Monkees since 1997, as well as the first without Jones. Jones’ memory was honored throughout the shows via recordings and video. During one point, the band went quiet and a recording of Jones singing “I Wanna Be Free” played while footage was screening of him walking along the beach. For Jones’ signature song, “Daydream Believer”, Dolenz explained that the band had discussed who should sing the song, only to conclude that it should be the fans. “It doesn’t belong to us anymore,” said Dolenz. “It belongs to you.””

“Hey, aren’t we missing somebody? Oh… right…”
What? Too soon?

Hopefully that tour won’t be their last, because I’d love to see them live. Until then, thanks for the tunes, chaps. They rock, and so do you.

6 Rocks You Probably Never Heard Of

In this world there are many different awesome things. One of those that we take for granted are rocks. Because rocks are fucking everywhere. Some of us even have tons of tiny ones making up our driveways, yet we drive over them every day without a second thought.

Sure there are the Rosetta Stones and the Plymouth Rocks out there, but I’m betting you’ve probably never heard of the following six. I’m not betting a lot, because I’m bad at gambling.

6. ALH 84001

ALH 84001 roughly translates to “Allan Hills, Antarctica, 84001” which just so happens to be the place where the rock was discovered. It’s a small one, measuring in at basically the size of a potato, but what it offers us is something extraordinary.

“Representin’ the 672!”

The rock proves there’s life on Mars.

Obviously. It comes from Mars, which we can find out by reading the return address on the envelope it was sent in. And naturally if it was sent to us from Mars, somebody had to send it, right? Rocks don’t just fly off of planets and land on other planets.

Actually, it happens all the time, and this one is no different.

Discovered in 1984 by some people who realized the rock was out of place amongst a sea of snow and ice, but they figured that it was just a regular earth rock because, as it turns out, we have a shit ton of rocks on this planet.

But in 1996 NASA decided they were going to test the rock, whether they had motives or just a hard case of boredom remains a mystery. What they found was it was made up from Mars stuff and a bunch of “structures originating from fossilized, primitive bacteria-like organisms.” In other words, extra-terrestrial life. So yes, this rock apparently proves that there is life outside of our own planet.

Duh. We’ve known that since the ’80’s.

The rock is still under scrutiny by people who don’t believe Mars exists.

5. Hooker Emerald Brooch

Although I giggle and laugh at the name of this as if I’m still in the fifth grade, the Brooch is a serious rock.

If one man gives this to another man, it’s a Bro’ch. Get it?

Discovered sometime in the 16th or 17th century, it was given to Sultan Abdul Hamid II, because who else would it have been given to back then? He sported it as a big gaudy belt buckle like a Texan at a hoedown.

Eventually in 1908 it was smuggled into Paris as part of the crown jewels, along with the Hope Diamond. All badass jewels stick together like that. The Sultan was scared the Young Turks were going to kick his ass, so he was hoping to sell the emerald on Ebay and make off like a bandit.

Of all the Sultan haters, Rod Stewart is at the front of the pack.

In 1911 it was auctioned off and the new proud owner was Tiffany & Co., who transformed it from a redneck symbol of pride to a tiara the likes of which had every five year old girl in the country clamoring for it.

Fast forward a few dozen decades and the tiara wasn’t selling. Tiffany & Co. realized they should have left it a belt buckle but decided to try something else, so they once again transformed the piece, this time into a brooch, and put it in their Christmas catalog. It still didn’t sell.

Finally in 1955 a philanthropic heiress bought the brooch for an undisclosed price, and as it turns out she was a Hooker. Apparently one who was very successful at her job.

She’s one classy Hooker.

Having no reason to hold onto it, Janet Annenberg Hooker decided to donate it to the Smithsonian in 1977, as well as a few more of her prized pieces and five million dollars. Back then the brooch was valued at $500,000. Today it is estimated to be worth several kajillion.

4. Devil’s Organ Pipes

If you’re ever wondering where the Devil is, you can find him in Northern Ireland. That is, if you don’t go to Hell first.

There in the land of alcohol is a natural wonder that looks like a giant baby dumped his building blocks and just never picked them up. What it actually happens to be, is a volcanic masterpiece, causing over 4000 basaltic columns of rocks to jut out of the land in the shape of an organ.

Lookit the sausage on THAT guy.

No, not that organ. Like the one you would see in a big fancy church, only without God because this is the Devil’s organ. Heh.

The Devil’s organ? Giggity.

Legend has it (because everything involving anything has to have a legend) the rocks were built by the Giant Fionn MacCumhail so that he could fight against the Scottish giant called Benandonner. That seems legit.

Benandonner lost the fight because, instead of building his own giant rock organ, he opted for a Starbucks franchise.

3. Pantuo Rock

On the outside, Pantuo Rock is just a rock standing precariously on another rock.

“Come back for my three o’clock show where I juggle three kittens.”

Holy shit, that’ll do. How is it just sitting there, looking all “I’m about to drop on your ass”? Well, it has for millions of years and it doesn’t plan on moving any time soon.

There are tons of rocks all over the world that do this very thing, and it’s amazing to wonder just how in the hell they do it. But they do, and I’m guessing it’s because of a little thing called “balance”.

The three symbols on the side of the rock are “Pan Tuo Shi”, which loosely translates to “large boulder sitting on the edge of killing you”, or at least that’s what I think it means. It was autographed by Hou Jigao, the famous anti-Japanese-pirates general in the Ming Dynasty. Yeah, that guy. Which makes me reconsider what the three symbols on the side of the rock actually mean.

2. Stone Mountain

Have you heard about that one big rock with the four Presidents heads carved into the side of it? This isn’t it. But it was done by the same guy who did Mount Rushmore.

“Heh heh, those guys are ‘stoned’. Heh, get it?”

Well, he started it anyway. Gutzon Borglon began working on this piece in 1916 but stopped in 1925, and nobody knows why. Two years later he began working on Mount Rushmore, so maybe he was just paid a higher amount of cash to do that than the previous work. Who knows.

The job was picked back up in 1963 by some other dude and was eventually finished in 1972. The work depicts the likenesses of Stonewall Jackson, Robert E. Lee and Jefferson Davis, as well as their horses. It’s also done in the style of bas-relief and happens to be the largest of its kind in the world. A bas-relief sculpture is one that has less depth to the faces and figures than they actually have, when measured proportionately to scale. This technique retains the natural contours of the figures, and allows the work to be viewed from many different angles without distortion of the figures themselves. Neato, huh?

But they look so small.

Just to key you in on their size, the entire carving is 400 feet off the ground, so you have to really crane your neck just to get a good look at it. It’s 90 feet wide by 190 feet tall, never mind how many pixels that would be. To put that into perspective, the heads of the Presidents on Mount Rushmore are about 60 feet tall apiece.

1. Chained Rock

Before 1932, the people of Pineville, Kentucky had very little to do with their time other than come up with horrific things to tell their children with the hopes that the kids would fall asleep happy and leave the parents with plenty of time for moon-shining. *citation needed

Instead of the typical Grimm Fairy Tales, which only terrify kids until they fall asleep, the parents would often torture their kids for the entire night by telling them of a giant rock that sat one thousand feet above the town, and how it would ultimately come crashing down and destroy the entire place. The difference between the rock and the Grimm Fairy Tales was, the rock was actually there and could be seen from the town. The parents would guarantee the child’s safety by telling them that there was a huge chain bolted into the rock to keep it from tumbling down on top of them, ruining their chances at making their own moonshine once they turned 12.

In reality only most of the town would be destroyed.

The only problem was, there was no chain. It didn’t matter that the rock only appeared to be ready to fall and was actually very secure in its position on the hillside, there was no fucking chain. Essentially, the parents were lying to their kids. Believe it or not, parents have been lying to their kids for a long time now, which makes it okay for you to do.

“Don’t worry, when the rock crushes you, you won’t feel a thing. But your brother will, because he still wets the bed.”

The town decided one day in 1932 that it was time to change that, so they hauled a 1.5 ton, 101 foot chain up the hillside via a four-mule team to legitimately secure the rock to the hillside. This decision was made because the former lied-to children didn’t want to lie to their own children, and they needed some sort of reason for tourists to come to their sleepy little town. Apparently the moonshine wasn’t bringing them in like it had been before the Great Depression.

“You’re right, this is a LOT better than zip ties.”

So now if the rock decides to come loose and fall, it’ll just swing along the hillside like a giant pendulum of destruction, tearing out trees and other rocks which will fall on the town, still destroying it all. That’s a fair trade.

No matter the reason, nobody knows for sure why they actually put the chain on the rock, but one thing is for sure. Pineville is now the most visited town in Kentucky by the people who live there.

5 Things (I Just Thought Of)

Welcome to a new and improved blog piece. Actually it’s not new or improved in any way. I’m trying to keep the standards around here at their normal “abysmally low”. In any case, I just had an idea to do this blog in this fashion. I would write about whatever the fuck pops in my head at any given time. And here we go with number 5.


This blog. I thought it might be interesting to do this blog, so I am doing it. And I also just realized that my finger hurts. I cut it at work the other night, right across the tip, and now it looks like a mouth. I’ve been making it open and close off and on, to make it look like it’s talking, but that’s not helping the healing process. Neither is typing, by the way, which really fucking hurts. Here’s a picture.

Just kidding, I don’t have my phone on me. Maybe I’ll take a picture later and post it. Anyway, typing sucks.


I had a collie once when I was a kid. My dad heard she was related somewhere down the line to the original Lassie. And logic would say that since the original Lassie was the smartest dog ever, this dog, albeit a dozen generations later (apparently) should be just as smart, right? Plus it’s a Collie, one of the smarter dogs known to man.

My dad shelled out $200 for the pup and we brought her cute ass home. Oh she was a gorgeous dog, but quite possibly the dumbest animal to ever walk the earth. Like, inbred dumb. Several generations of inbreeding dumb.

Apparently the people we got it off of, if they were telling the truth and the dog was actually a descendant of the original Lassie, had one day in the past bought a dog off of the original Lassie’s family line and kept breeding it generation after generation just to be able to say it’s a direct descendant, even though it was ready to marry its cousin.

This dog wasn’t trained very well, I will say, but I don’t believe training worked out all that well, because the dog was so dumb. My dad built her a pen in the back yard, fully equipped with a dog house, and let her live there, sad as it was.

She spent her time either sleeping, or running in circles around her dog house from morning to night, never stopping. Even if someone walked past our back yard, she would bark, but she wouldn’t stop running in that circle.

Dad took her to the vet and the vet constantly told us that she was 10 pounds under weight, but there was nothing we could do. We fed her and she ate, but she never stopped running. I guess she was always concerned with her figure.

Finally, one day during the summer, dad told us all that she ran off, which she was prone to do, and we never saw her again. I’m sure he sent her off to some farm or something, maybe the SPCA. Sometimes I miss that dog, watching her run in circles, over and over and over and over…


Speaking of my dad, he used to take me to all kinds of awesome things when I was a kid. Thinking back on it, he took me to ball games all the time, concerts and even wrestling shows. Every time the WWF (that’s World Wrestling Federation, not World Wildlife Fund, this was years before THAT lawsuit) came through, my dad would take me down to the Coliseum to watch a night of slams and clotheslines. Once we had to get tickets off of someone outside the venue, that was my first time dealing with ticket scalpers.

But the tickets were good ones, we were about ten rows from ringside, right along the aisle where the wrestlers came out to go to the ring. That was the first time I had ever been that close to the action. This happened right after the Undertaker had debuted and when I first saw him live, I’ll never forget how much of a presence that man had, even still to this day. He definitely pulled off the part to perfection. He wrestled “Hacksaw” Jim Duggan and destroyed him.

Also that night, behind us by a couple of rows sat George “The Animal” Steele, dressed up in a nice suit. Apparently he was just hanging out for the night. We also got to watch Sgt. Slaughter wrestle. This was about the time he was a good guy, because after he won everyone was all excited. I ran to the aisle and saluted him as he left the ring carrying the American Flag. He saluted me back and shook my hand. His hand was the size of a three year old. And sweaty.

That was just one of many wrestling gigs my dad took me to. We often finished the night at White Castles. He also took me to see the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles live at the Gardens. They performed this awesome play in front of us while scattering their hit songs all throughout. Their songs could be purchased on cassette from any Pizza Hut, called “Coming Out Of Their Shells”. I had a copy, and listened to it a million times. I wish I still had it. They even had a VHS release of the show…

Oh god that’s gay. I think I’m glad I don’t have the album any more.

Dad also took me to see the Reds play a lot at the old Riverfront Stadium. Nothing could ever replace the memory of seeing that green ball field as you walk through the doors and into the seating area. That same field you had seen so many times on TV, and oh how TV did it no justice. Being there, nothing will ever beat that. Thanks, dad.


Seems like I’ve spoken on this before, but I will again. When I was a kid my step sisters and I, usually just Brandy and I, would create ways to destroy the house and property it sat on just to keep ourselves entertained.

It was hot in the summer and we didn’t have that fancy A/C to keep us cool, so we had to find ways to do that ourselves. While my dad and her mom were at work, we would take our garbage cans to the front yard, yes, to the front so all of our neighbors could see just how trashy we were (pardon the pun, seriously), we would fill them up with water from the hose, and we would each jump in one and sit in it. That’s how we went swimming. We’d stay in it until we got bored and we would climb out, flood the front yard by emptying the cans there, and put them back.

We would also take the hose to the back yard, which was mostly a hill down and away from the house, and we would flood the hill so that it got as muddy as possible. We would then slide down it, and then fight each other while trying to climb back up it and be the first to the top. By the end of the day we would waste hundreds of gallons of water and we would both be completely covered from head to toe in mud.

Also, the grass never got to grow on that hill. Dad was pissed. Sorry, dad.


I don’t know why I thought of my dad so much tonight, but it worked out for some good stories. Here’s another. We collected food stamps when I was a kid, and back then it wasn’t on a debit card, it was actual money looking food stamps, of the paper variety. When my step mom was out of work, each day she would give us kids a couple dollars a piece in food stamps and we would walk down the street to the local penny candy store, the name of which I’ll never remember, and we would spend all of our food stamps on candy.

100 Swedish Fish in a paper bag, straight out of a big glass container with a scoop, for a dollar. What a great country we lived in.

We’d also get Chick-A-Sticks, bubble gum that tasted like root beer, and 2-liters of pop that we would drink on the way home. We would be loaded up. Then we’d go home, swap candies, have a good time, get all sugared up and run around like wild kids for a couple of hours until we all crashed and my step mom had a peaceful afternoon. That happened every day back then.

Back then, I also collected Dinosaurs Attack! cards, also from the same place. I never got them all, and one day I vow to collect them all once and for all. A friend of mine from school not only had collected all of them, but he had multiples of the ones I needed. But he never gave them to me. What a dick.

Tim Burton was going to make a movie based off of this but didn’t when a similar movie came out. Instead he made Mars Attacks!

There was also another store we would go to that was just around the corner from the penny candy store, I think it was called Tom’s back then. Not sure. Anyway, we would go in there with food stamps some times and we would buy Burples (remember those?), Now And Laters (which we called “ny-a-laters”, and cans of macaroni and cheese, which turned out to be the nastiest shit on earth in a can. Still is.

Years later that particular store had turned into some sort of gang base of operations, while the store acted as a front. Police raided it for some reason only to find hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of semi-automatic weaponry in the back in boxes. I think they also found a ton of hard drugs as well. Awesome.

The penny candy store closed and never reopened as anything else. It’s still closed.


Well, this was fun. Maybe I’ll do it again some time. Or not.