31 July 2012

How I became an asshole

I knew a thermonuclear meltdown was imminent. I knew it would be spectacular. I just didn't know how big the mushroom cloud would wind up being.  (and the fallout hasn't hit yet. I still have to order those shades.)

Y'all, it was one hell of a weekend. I shopped. There were shoes. There were pants. There were tops. There were more shoes. Like these:

(OK, so I totally fixed. I find that there are far fewer negative consequences associated with new shoes than there ever was with dope.)

So Sunday was my shopathon, and I bought a lot of stuff. The thermonuclear meltdown didn't stop there.

Monday, we experienced something that I am only slightly ashamed of. We went fossil hunting.

In this:

I don't want to hear any shit about it. I already know how awful it is. Shit like this, which the owner calls the yellow thing in his driveway, is why summer is so fucking hot these last few years, y'all. I know that this vehicle represents the absolute worst of western consumerism and our biggerbetterfastermore mentality. The fact that we were running 90 in it at one point on our way to our destination just makes us really big fucking assholes.

Am I going to apologize for it?

Fuck no.

It was fucking fun, y'all.

The yellow thing went down a hill very much like this one to get us into this dried up river.

(Confession: my stomach flip-flopped like on a rollercoaster as I looked out the windshield and saw the riverbottom right in front of us like whoah)

The yellow thing also drove through this 'puddle'

that was actually much closer to the window than this picture shows. I know the water was halfway up the doors of the yellow thing, which would make it waist- to chest- deep on me, and I am 5'7" tall.

This is Sunshine, driving the yellow thing up a very steep hill while the owner scouted through the very tall weeds looking for anything that could cause a major problem, like getting stuck, or rolling over.

And this is the view out the window as Sunshine drove. Yes, that would be the ground outside the window, which would mean we were kind of leaning sideways

At this point, the owner reclaimed the driver's seat and asked us to exit the vehicle, because (and I quote) "it might roll over. I've already had this thing on it's side once."

(let me digress to ask who the fuck is that nonchalant about rolling a fucking eleventy hundred thousand dollar truck? Apparently, our friend. Which is awesome. He might have a yellow thing in his driveway, but he is so not attached to it or any other material thing. Which is full of the awesome.)

As if we haven't been assholes enough, after I exit the vehicle, wearing these hill climbing shoes
the owner successfully climbs the very steep hill and lands here
in a soybean field.

(The yellow thing, the shoes, Sunshine, Mollie-puppy, and myself all survived the adventure, no worse for the wear. My favorite Armani pants did not. The kookoobirds stuck to the legs of them so thick that they scraped most of the skin off of my feet and calves. Alas, no pictures to show you what a kookoobird is, but it is a little prickly ball thing that comes off of plants and sticks to your clothes. And dog.)

So, I absolutely experienced thermonuclear meltdown, and it was the most fun I've had in a long time.

I needed it.

Now, off to order these:

Because I owe it to myself and Joules.


  1. But at least you were doing what you're supposed to do with the yellow thing. I know a woman who uses hers to drive her kids to school. In the suburbs. No field or pond crossing necessary.

    Also, can I borrow shoes from you sometime?

    1. Yes, at least we used the yellow thing for it's original intended purpose, which makes us less assholey than the woman who uses hers to drive the kids to school.

      Also, I wear a size 7 to 7.5 (or 37-38 in european sizes), depending on the arch support. So, if you can wear that size, yes, you can borrow the shoes.