My friend J and I had decided to go on an adventure Sunday. A photographic safari to find the word Mother in all its forms and create an album. We went to several locations and and got some shots. One location I thought might be a good place to llok was a cemetery. Sometimes you can find headstones that say Mother.
What we found was something little more disturbing. A shoe. A man's shoe just randomly laying a bit askew in the grass. Not near a grave, more like it was tossed out in haste or lost during an altercation. Was a man kidnapped while bringing flowers to the gravesite of his mother? Did an ex-husband get in a duel with the current husband over a grave of a beloved wife and in his haste to remove the now deceased husband leave a shoe behind?
There is more.... we stopped at one location to find a geo-cache which was there a couple weeks ago in April but we could not find it. We moved 114 rocks around and never found it. The clue had the word prick in it so we assumed it was near a prickly pear cactus. The blue GPS dot stayed right there by the cactus no cache. We moved on.
There we sat havng a lovely dinner when a gun fight broke out in the restaurant. A child was screaming and running a man was growling and chasing him. As we sat there in disbelief the child hid behind a colum near the salad bar and the man charged from his hiding place shooting the child square in the chest with a big fat "splat" sound. The boy shreiked. The man laughed and off they ran again. Yep, it was a water pistol fight right there in the restaurant involving the staff and customers.
Next the manager escorts a family over to the salad bar and stays with them as they heap lettuce, tomatoes, dressing and cheese on their plates challenging them all to a salad eating competion. He makes a salad and off they marched to their table where we could here a 1,2,3, go! Several moments later the manager screams "I won!!!" He then proceeds to do a victory lap to the kitchen.
Our waitress happens to be Megra, the wife of Hercules and we are forced to listen to her lamentations of life with Herc and his crazy vengenful father Zeus. Could this night be any weirder?
Yes, there before my eyes on Mother's Day is a little family. A mom loaded down with a large purse, a ginormous diaper bag, in the other hand she is holding the tiny hand of a barely walking toddler and where is dad? Strolling along behind them with a very proud look carrying nothig but a phone the size of an i-pad strapped to his skinny, pant sagging, hip. Carry that diaper bag and your son you addlepated, dim-witted, under-educated nincompoop!! What a bloody wanker!!!!
Next letter we will be discussing Mr. Brain's Pork Faggots.
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