Drivin’ 2: Electric Boogaloo

I’m back in the ‘boken after traveling well over a thousand miles in under eighty hours.  I’m crunchy.  I’m stinky.  And I’m still haunted by the fruity/chemical taste of the endless Bojangles and Diet Mountain Dew fueled burps that my brother consistently managed to blow into my open mouth every time I turned to yell at him.

It was a long trip.

Never fear, there’s ample fuel for at least three more blogs (and pictures and VIDEOS) based on the antics of my siblings.  I just don’t have the energy to cobble together coherent sentences today (as exhibited by the last sentence of that first paragraph).  Instead, I leave you with a song.  It’s one of Thom’s favorites.  I think it explains quite a bit.  And no, I don’t think I’m the son of God.  Thom might, though.

We started the return car ride with Thom asking, “What about you, Elly – did you suffer a crisis of faith or did you just never believe in God?”  Then we ended the trip screaming along to the lyrics of this song.  Let the psychoanalysis begin…


  1. I now know what my answer will be going forward in life when people ask that stupid question…” If you could meet any historical figure from the past, who would it be?” I am definitely going to have to go with, “Oh, I would definitely want to meet fucking Craig, you know, Craig Christ, Jesus’ brother” LMAO
    .-= Wicked Shawn´s last blog ..Wicked List of Good and Not So Good Ideas =-.

    1. Glad you’re back safe. I can’t stop singing that Eddie Murphy song – my don likes to worry all the time, worry all the time, worry all the tie-ime.

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