Reminds me of the time I was driving on the Beltway in DC. There was a flatbed truck in front of me carrying bicyle tires. Suddenly about a dozen of them made a break for it. One of them came straight towards me, gently kissed my windshield, and bounced on to freedom.
Sat 29 Aug, 2015 08:39 pm
Kashmir, The Ocean, and The Immigrant Song, all on middle school percussion.