Well, I had a friggin' blast today. Up on Cypress with poutanen, timmytard, and kung-pow. A little wet in the morning, but snowed all day, and it was getting deep by the time I had to leave. At one point we found ourselves riding along inches from the edge of a significant cliff. OK, I'm awake now!
Yeah, that's me, Tracer Bullet. I've got eight slugs in me. One's lead,
the rest bourbon. The drink packs a wallop, and I pack a revolver. I'm
a private eye.