By Car Johnson
My neighborhood is filled with whackjobs. There’s the Jenkins (of course), but there’s also the Smiths, who think aliens are coming in 2012, so they build a protective parameter around their house out of unopened Cracker Jack boxes. Apparently, aliens are allergic to caramel popcorn and salty peanuts. At least that’s what Walter Smith yells from his porch every dawn. He’s like an insane rooster,
Continue reading The Life and Times of Car Johnson Part 8
