My dad's a TV repairman. Got a killer set of tools. I can fix it.
I never thought this day would come, but damn you, three-day weekend. Damn you straight to hell (aka Northeast Philly.) Had I been working today, I'd'a seen something I've been waiting to see since my commute took me out Kelly Drive to the Falls:
A speeding car careered off Kelly Drive and into the Schuylkill River at the height of the rush hour this morning as rowers and runners looked on in horror.
The car sailed nearly 30 feet from the embankment before it plunged into the waters.
"It was just like a Charles Bronson movie," said Bill Ban, a rower who was finishing up his morning routine at 8 a.m. just north of Boathouse Row.
Mr. Majestic, lookie here: If it were a Bronson movie, dude would've jumped out of the car with eight guns to seek vengeance on the filthy Schuylkill water like he don't got a care in the world. And he'd have killed it dead. Real, real dead.
How do I know this? Oh, only because I'm a mere 24 hours from breaking a rule I told myself I'd never break: Hitting a gun range out in the Poconos as part of J.J.'s bachelor-party celebration. I'm told they have M-16s and Dirty Harry guns and a whole bunch of other stuff. Wild, right? Right. Hope I don't get me no gun fever, though. The world needs that like the dude who drove into the Schuylkill needs one of Milton's duck boats.