Rock me like a hurricane
I turned 32 this week. To celebrate, the urban family took me to the most authentic "Louisiana" Po-Boy joint in town. It had been a while since I'd indulged in a hurricane - let alone four. That night I had the most bizarre dream: Two Amish men throw me into the back of a car. As we speed away, I think, NOT that it is strange I'm being kidnapped by the Amish, but rather, it is odd they are driving a car. They tell me I wear too much makeup, and then let me go.
Note to self: The Amish are not to be trusted - obviously, they have no idea what they are taking about. Oh, and next time, lay off the hallucinogenic hurricanes.
4 Comments:
*Four* hurricanes? If they were even close to French Quarter strength, then it wasn't a dream, chile. And you wouldn't have confused Mormons for Amish in your rummish haze, would you? I mean, Mormons *would* drive a car (with a bike rack on top) and might have a problem with makeup (although I don't recall they ever gave Marie much guff about it). Or they could've been agents for Victoria Principal.
10:49 PM
Here is the DC -> Pat O's Hurricane conversion rate:
2 DC Hurricanes = .75 Pat O's Hurricane
I could still stand by the end of the night, so they weren't *THAT* authentic.
10:53 AM
Heh. Good times! With the Amish!
8:55 AM
Maybe it was your subconscious telling you that instead of being a sexy Bond girl for Halloween, you should gone as an Amish girl?
11:16 AM
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