The fricking Blue Angels are strafing the city again, it must be Fleet Week. At first I didn’t really notice it. Now, after 4 hours, every time I hear those machines go screaming by, my guts tells me, “Shit! Shit! Shit! You’re gonna get killed! DO something!” My guts seem to be more worried about the building being bombed and me being crushed than getting shot per se.
They can stop now.
Any time they want.