Kyle is one of those junkyard dog-type players. He is one that not many will account for in the scouting report. He is a luxury to have on the team.
Kyle is one of those junkyard dog-type players. He is one that not many will account for in the scouting report. He is a luxury to have on the team.
In our ludicrous efforts to 'change' and be perfect, we try to fashion a perfect world for ourselves. We start to imagine that we are actually in control of our world, which is further from reality than an all-parrot moon landing. The universe, our universe, is out of our control. We live on a speck drifting around in an infinite vacuum with countless trillions of other specks. Our world is in a perpetual state of perfect chaos and entropy, with everything falling apart and dying and being born haphazardly. Meanwhile, we try to make life as neat and clean and orderly as a computer research facility, when in fact it is more like a junkyard. It always has been, and it always will be, no matter how much fussing and sweating and striving we do to make it different.
Anything over two unlicensed vehicles, unusable machinery parts or scrap metal is considered a junkyard in an agricultural zone,
And I to my motorcycle Parked like the soul of the junkyard Restored, a bicycle fleshed With power, and tore off Up Highway 106 continually Drunk on the wind in my mouth Wringing the handlebar for speed Wild to be wreckage forever
Neighbors don't want an unsightly junkyard next door or in the neighborhood,
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories