What she Wore: polka dot short sleeve top with white trim, long white shorts, polka dot espadrilles with red ribbons that tie around the ankles. These aren’t them exactly, but it’s the best I could do.
During my road trip I’ve had a couple of random things happen, none which would comprise an entire blog entry. So, here’s goes the list of randomness that made up my last few days.
- Have you ever noticed that gas stations are the great equalizer? I’m at some gas station in the middle of nowhere Mississippi and behind me is this mormon-looking guy in a tie and his daughter. Right next to me is a blue low-rider with chromed out rims and the sound system blasting. I didn’t recognize the song, but the chorus was clear–"I can’t f(beep) this b(beep)" How. Freakin. Appropriate. Maybe the little girl will learn some new words during this cultural exchange.
- I’m eaves-dropping while standing in line, and I was privy to what was possibly the greatest assult to the English lanuage in recent times. There was a young man behind me and this is an exact quote of what he told his friend, "I went to this girls house, and her dad like boiled crawfish, and her brother like brought some beer, and it was sooooo, man." Now, I know that was pretty eloquent, but when I cast a backward glance I got a look at something that really scared me–a cetain t-shirt that made me realize without a shadow of a doubt that this guy was in college. Frightening. At the rate we’re going, they’ll be kids in college whe can’t even make a complete sentence pretty soon.
- I’m driving through Mississipi and I see something weird in my rear view mirror. It looks like a bunch of people hanging out the windows of a car. The car is going at a good clip in the left lane, so I just wait to see what the deal is. When the car passes me I see what it really is–a man driving a green Thunderbird with a Chucky doll hanging out of one window and a Bride of Chucky doll hanging out the other side. I’m still trying to figure out what that was all about. Any ideas?
- And finally, Katrina has left many New Orleanians living in some strange conditions. I went over to my friend’s house and her mom was in the garage. Upon closer inspection, I discovered she was cooking with a pot on a barbeque grill. I may never forget the image of this stay-at-home professor’s wife cooking ghetto-style in her garage. Priceless.
Not very coherent, but when am I ever?