Trollheart
Nothing Wicked This Way Comes...
I think in a way I can be compared, at times, to an old but sometimes trustworthy rustbucket car. At times I'll roll smoothly on, eating up the miles while the scenery rolls by. But then, for no apparent reason I'll stall, engine will cough and you'll spend the next few days on the hard shoulder trying to flag down a ride and kicking and cursing me. Then, when all seems lost and you're looking to see if you've enough for a taxi, you'll try the key once more and I'll sputter back into life, toddling on merrily for another while till I inexplicably break down again.
On occasion I can outpace a Formula 1 driver, other times snails yawn as they pass me.
On occasion I can outpace a Formula 1 driver, other times snails yawn as they pass me.