There haven’t been any updates because I haven’t hardly been on the line.
Most of my real life adventures feature the same group of shitbags I deal with on a regular basis, and there’s no point writing about them.
I think I’ll walk down to the beach, stake out a space, plunk down a lawn chair, prop open the shade umbrella, open up a room-temperature beverage and return to this online world some other day.
For Shrove Tuesday, we went to eat at the International Horse of Pancakes.
All conversation at the table stopped when I reached over to Brian’s plate, yoinked a triangle of toast and put my tongue flat across the middle of the bread. I was only trying to slurp off the “butter” that was allegedly on said toast… I don’t know WHAT they’re using on toast out here in California, but it isn’t the same stuff they were using back in Kentucky.
Green Wage sneaked out in to the weather to make a snowagel!
Dude, it was a good thing CK and I ate something substantial before the night got away from us, because we spent the rest of the evening trying to collect enough spare change from under the couch cushions to make bail money for Wage. I never knew that being too cute was a criminal offense!
I bawled like a baby when the pigs took him away in the paddy wagon.
CK and I went back to Jerry’s for more butter and sugar. I especially enjoyed the fried butter with caramelized sugar drizzled over the top. And the toast.
While we were sitting at the table, she leaned across and said to me, “I’ve never watched someone slurp butter off a piece of toast like that. It’s very appalling and yet, strangely erotic at the same time.”
Here we see CK as her drivers whisk her away from the scene. She continues to vehemently deny rumors that she is the father of Anna Nicole’s baby. We could hear her cry out, “Why can’t you madmen just leave that poor dead woman alone?! It was the TrimSpa!”
We knew we’d arrived at our destination when we saw the sign:
I know. You thought I was talking about the Horse Piss Beer sign over at the liquor store. I somehow managed to control myself and skipped getting that picture. Which means I forgot.
CK and I stopped in at Jerry’s. Once we sat down, we knew we’d need subtitles or a translator to help us communicate with the waitress. She told us they had Diet Mountain Dew ON TAP (heaven!) and then asked if we wanted a “rallcahrnbreahfrainchtoas” with our meal. Unsure, we tentatively agreed to having one of these local delicacies. Then she asked which one we wanted. After much discussion, the waitress discovered that we couldn’t understand what she was asking and slowed down her speech to ask if we’d prefer “a roll, corn bread or french toast”. She suggested the roll, split down the middle and grilled with butter. Mmmmm…. butter….
I ordered a Mexican Salad, which is chili, salsa, onions, shredded lettuce and cheese over a fried tortilla. I told CK I was paying for everything, so she could get what she wanted. She ordered a liver and onions without the onions. They messed up her order (I KNOW!!) and comped her meal. Result!
I was feeling so generous by that point that we considered the dessert menu.
Wage got the junior size hot fudge cake. He’d have ordered the regular portion, but he said the chocolate goes straight to his hips.