Rock On

That rock’s gotta roll eventually. A little too much moss on the north side, a little too much rain freezing/thawing in the cracks to break the bond, a light breeze and a single butterfly poop could set the whole thing in motion. I wouldn’t stand within 100 yards of that man squasher because you just know that there’s a jerk with a lever on the far side and his buddy’s aiming for a viral hit on the Utoobage.

[Found here.]