Jesus wanted our money — but this time it was for a good cause: better brewing from Larry, for fuck’s sake.
It hadn’t rained in Tucson for 50 days and 50 nights. The first time it did, my fucked up tennis friends “ran away” like they were being chased by a killer rabbit.
I was denied summer camp as a child. I skipped the college dorm life. For a few years, I filled the camp/dorm fake nostalgia with Newks tennis camp.