All Normal, Except For Pink Milk
On Saturday, I left the house during a rainstorm (I had a gig, after all, so
the weather had to be bad!). I drove at the turtle's pace allowed by
the drivers in front of me, but thankfully had plenty of time to get
to where I was going.
Around here, if there is ANY precipitation AT ALL, everyone slows
WAY down (ridiculously so) and then hits their brakes every 20 seconds
or so....because we all know that locking up your wheels is the best
way to get traction on a wet road....er...hmm....
After a twice-as-long commute, I arrived in the City of Potholes.
Well, that's what it should be called. It's been called worse.
Ate some dinner, played the required blues notes (see the outdoor
mascot, above), then drove home in a rainstorm.
When I got there, I found a few dirty glasses in the sink that had
obviously contained strawberry milk. Uh, oh. Strawberry milk is
Mrs. L's "I'm desperately ill" comfort food, so this was a bad sign.
Woke up Sunday: no rain!
Go figure.
posted by Mr. L at 10:41 AM
4 Comments:
Hmm...it's chicken bouillon, tea, or mashed potatoes for me on the "desperately ill front." Hope things turned out better for you than the omen in the sink.
In case you're not aware yet, I used to be The Jane Bear over at Sock Monkey, but had to move my blog over to Laughing Frog. Bud and Deni know all about it, so I'm not a troll poking around here.
~Froggie
Yp, That's our Jane Bear all right. Just follow the bouillon wrappers and teabags to the mashed potatoes. Peanut butter is my desperately ill comfort food. But I use damn near any excuse to get into the peanut butter.
City of Potholes? I think I grew up there.
Thanks for the link, Mr. L!
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