Mike Rowe

Once upon a time, (2005, as I recall,) a nice lady named Mrs. Frazier awoke to an unaccustomed sound emanating from the lower level of her modest home in Staten Island. It began as a “gurgling,” evolved into a “babbling,” and quickly grew into a series of growls and barks, interspersed with the sounds a giant might make if he were trying to clear his throat of all the phlegm in the world. Alarmed, Mrs. Frazier stood at the top of her stairs and peered cautiously down, wondering why some escaped demon from hell had chosen her home to chew Read More