Defying the laws of driving probability.
Donnie and me cruise down to San Fransisco.
I’m twenty two.
We have a little too much of this and too much of that.
Actually way too much.
Donnie’s out cold.
I throw him in the back seat.
Feels like I can fly a helicopter when I turn the key.
Three hour flight.
ACDC till the speakers explode.
Sixty two now.
I’m still a pilot.
