Of late when I go out on our porch late at night, all too often I'm hearing loud engines gunning in the distance. It's hard to tell where they are. All they way back on Franklin? Over on Weaver Dairy? Just across the lake on North Lake Shore?
It's apparently quite a thing out there in America. Jackasses driving around in their trucks, on motorcycles, trumpeting their would be penis size through their tailpipes. The worst of this we've heard, undoubtedly, was in Houston two years ago when we were there for the national robotics championship we were on the 6th floor of our hotel, I think, but it was on a pretty major thoroughfare and 6 was nowhere near high enough to get us outside the range of the cacophony of Texas masculinity growling up at us from the streets. I think I didn't fall asleep till 3 am one night, which is super late for me.
The other night I heard the engines after having a rather apocalyptic conversation with a local tech billionaire type about some work he's been doing on global warming issues, though he fears the horse has long since left the barn. It was hard not to hear the roaring engines in the distance as confirmation of his fears.
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