Soccer Dad and the People in your Neighborhood: True Tales of an SLC Cabbie

A taxi logo reflecting off the top of a cab

Note: All names of persons have been changed So I had had a decent 10 and a half hours of driving, money-wise and otherwise, and I was seriously considering cutting out before the final 2 a.m. bar rush. It was, after all, my fourth night in a row of working. I was cruising around on

Butcher’s Block – July 2005

Alright, bitches and bitchettes, listen up. I want to tell you, I am not going to Ozzfest, mainly because I can’t fucking stand Ozzy or Sabbath. I can hear the roars of disapproval already! But so what? I’m the guy writing this column, not you. I’m more metal than an I-beam falling onto an armored