matt-h's blog

It wasn't so shocking that John was leaving multiple, berating voicemails to get me out to his place in Colorado to do some riding and relaxing. After all, he's been harassing me about everything since the fourth grade, when my first not-so-friendly encounter with him on a field trip resulted in my sweet 80's comb in the back pocket being thrown deep into the woods. And Doug in San Francisco calling me to meet him at John's is an annual occurrence, so no surprise there.