Post from the Coast

We are here. After a couple hour drive, then a couple more hours getting The Smoodge back to sleep, but we are finally sitting down to life as it should be. Sitting in a warm salty breeze, eating powdered donuts, drinking bottomless cups of Diet Coke, and chatting.

I am not shitting you, one of my friends just made a batch of cookies and set them down in front of us. I hope my funeral was fun, because I must have seriously died and this is what heaven is like.

Funnily enough, two of us are online, the third, well, she was busy making cookies (she knows her role), and we've got Pulp Fiction on the tube.

The drive here was not so bad. We got on the road around 8, The Smoodge was crashed out before we even left the city limits. And that's when the three hour marathon of every awesome song from the past rocked us all the way here. You do not know a good time until you are singing along with The Proclaimers explaining how you'd walk five hundred miles (and then you'd walk five hundred more), hoping the fuzz don't stop you. I just don't know how humorous they would have found it when we rolled down the window and let them know that under no certain terms are we ceasing the singing until the da da da-da's are over.

So yeah, I'm having a great time. And we haven't even done anything yet. Technically, at this point in the trip, we could have driven 1604 around and around for three hours until we stopped back at someones house to blog and bake cookies.

Ezekiel 25:17 :)