I can like my two friends when we make plans to play Steel Battalion and talk jobs. I can like them eating pizza in a triangle around a table with one leaf folded against the wall. And before giving many more places and ways I can like them, I can not like them when I ask them to hit the weights in the basement and their hands become paws. Paws that can still clench things. All the dumbbells, the single kettlebell, the range of bars and my Dad's God damn exercise bike that this morning is not displaying its timer numbers. I can not like them before I dislike myself about not saying, "THE SIGN SAYS GET OFF."
Coincidence if the electrical coils really are corroded.
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