the wheels go 'round and 'round...

I was driving to work this morning, and I came upon a vehicle that, evidently, was a car for a Bud Light representative, as it had the logo at the rear and on the driver's side door.

So, my friends, I ask you...

What kind of vehicle would you associate with Bud Light?

Some might say a truck. A "manly" vehicle for a "manly" beverage.

Some might say a sports car...to be associated with the "young" and "cool".

Well, you might be surprised to know that the "official" car of the Bud Light representative is none other than....


a station wagon!!!


HA!

Neither "manly" nor "cool".

As it should be.

sorely disappointed...

Love Harrison Ford.

Love Indiana Jones.

Do not love the I.J. Crystal Skull movie.


Two words:

Predictable.

Duplicated.


It reminded me a lot of National Treasure 2.

Sorry, y'all...hope I didn't crush anyone's Indiana hopes and dreams. I really wanted it to be good, though.

Feel free to let me know if you felt differently about it.

can i get a woot! woot!

YEA! for stimulus checks!

Thank you, Jesus!

And George!

Mainly Jesus!

That is all. =)

Something New!

I'm going to try something new!

We had taken my mother-in-law to a nursery for Mother's Day to pick out a grandkid, I mean a plant, and while we were there, I decided to get some tomato, squash, and zucchini plants!

While I was getting the area ready for planting, I was thinking about my grandparents who always had gardens. I remembered one year when my dad and I planted a garden in our backyard. It was a pretty good sized garden. We planted corn, squash, zucchini, tomatoes, and who knows what else.

We began putting this pink stuff on the ground (I think it was fertilizer), and Dad told me not to rub my eyes, nose, or put my hands in my mouth or anything like that after handling this pink stuff. We got it all finished, and as we are walking up to the back door, I realized I just rubbed my eyes with my hands.

Oh, my goodness, I'm going to die.

Did I go to my dad or mom and tell them that I thought I was going to die?

No.

I went to the bathroom and feverishly flushed my eyes with water, then proceeded to go to my bedroom and make sure that I knew that I knew that I knew I was right with Jesus.

And then...I wrote my will.

Because that's what you're supposed to do when you're about to die, right? In a twelve year old's mind that's what you're supposed to do, and it was hard trying to decide who was going to get my rock collection dusted with fool's gold from Colorado or the Trixie Belden mystery book collection. Really hard. And I think I was giving the book collection away out of turn because I think it was my sister's. It's hard to say. With two girls in the family, we shared a lot of things.

Anyway, we'll see how this garden-thing works out.

But I don't think I'll be using any pink fertilizer.

Excuse Me?

Don't ask me why Dan and I were pointlessly driving around town when gas is $150 million a gallon. But we were, and I see this restaurant with a sign that reads this:

NERAH'S
Mediterranean Grill and Hookah Lounge



And what lounge???

Wait, I don't wanna know!

my 2 cents

This is my take on Syesha Mercado:

She knows she can't win.

So, she's doing songs and performances that aren't going to get her anywhere for Idol, but might get her picked up by a television network or a musical.

It's getting on my nerves.

Second time around...

So, I was in the grocery store yesterday waiting for a food tray I had ordered to be ready, and I noticed these shoes this lady was wearing.



Do you remember the jelly shoes? They're back, evidently. I've been seeing shoes lately that reflect back to the early to mid eighties era...the yo-yo shoes, the wedge, now the jellies.

Interesting.

(By the way, it did feel a bit private eye-ish discreetly trying to take a picture of a total stranger's shoes. Am I that desperate for a blog post?)