“Somewhere at the back of my mind, there’s a small yet insistent voice I don’t often pay attention to. But it’s there, and in those rare moments that the swirling dirge of thoughts upstairs goes quiet, I can hear the voice’s plea, an inquiry: what’s Greg Lutzka up to?” —- that was gold!
I went to the WA state fair last week and notably missing was the tattooed, muscle shirted, chain smoking Gosling stomping his way toward the “Globe of Death”
“Somewhere at the back of my mind, there’s a small yet insistent voice I don’t often pay attention to. But it’s there, and in those rare moments that the swirling dirge of thoughts upstairs goes quiet, I can hear the voice’s plea, an inquiry: what’s Greg Lutzka up to?” —- that was gold!
lol, thanks, Michael! Need to find a way to quiet that voice, though. It's growing louder...
I went to the WA state fair last week and notably missing was the tattooed, muscle shirted, chain smoking Gosling stomping his way toward the “Globe of Death”
Is a place really beyond the pines if the Gos is not in attendance?