"Look at this asshat." A silver mustang rent-a-car was charging across the new one-lane bridge, despite the fact that we were already on it. Mike stopped, but did not reverse immediately. When the oncoming car irched satisfyingly to a stop, he eased backward to make room for it. The other driver rolled his wrist for us to put down our window, like someone calling for their check by pantomiming a signature. "How far is it to the park?"
That poor man looks like Pauly Shore, I thought. The blonde in the passenger seat was shrinking down and looking embarrassed. "About 5 minutes." "Kay, thanks," he drove on, covering his face a bit with a hand. "That was Pauly Shore, you know," Mike said. "What."
motherfucking Pauly Shore!
It was a holiday campout weekend, in celebration of a young friend's birthday. Rampant children, frisbee, volleyball, hiking, fireworks, card-playing! Also rain.
When the sun emerged, we threw the children into the water, to distract them from trying to rescue all the forest critters from themselves and take them home trapped in plastic cups.
motherfucking waterfall!
Not so fun: I plucked a piece of meat out of the serving pan and discovered, on the way to my mouth, that it was covered in spiky little fly eggs. And that all the other pieces of meat were studded with little white clusters, too. And that I had just swallowed a big mouthful of them. Am off meat for the foreseeable future, and surviving on no-bake oreo pie, which I am about to make.
edited to add: I grabbed a spatula from the jar-o-utensils on the counter, and discovered that it was covered in baby cockroaches - just in time for them all to bail onto the pie and blend in with the cookie bits. Am off oreo pie, and now surviving on gummy vitamins.
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