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Party caravan makes it way to the Panhandle of Paradise. Or makes it back up to the sliver of a state that is NC. Who knows? Gas stations all look the same, and I can't tell which direction the car is pointing.
A house located at the apex of a turn on some side street in some mid-sized mountain city, rented out by four twenty-somethings without a cause of anysort, plus a regular visitor named Phil, and a scattering of other pals and aquaintances that stop in from time to time. It may soon develop into an outpost of pick-up sports, regional mountain biking, community dinner parties, and raving (yet responsible) house parties. Just you watch...
1 comment:
Best looking basement I've seen all year. You guys have a one track mind and I love how you are totally into bikes. I have a barn full of antique tractors, but I can see Lexy rolling his eyeballs now if I threaten to show them to you.
Where the hell is Spring? You guys got it? It's nowhere to be seen here in dreary Ohio.
Ride 'em if you've got 'em,
DA Max Sr
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