Fully loaded we got snacks and supplies
Its time to leave this town
Its time to steal away
Lets go get lost
Anywhere in the U.S.A. --Red Hot Chili Peppers
(Love this song, BTW)
The Girl and I are off to Up North, Wisconsin for the annual Foot-Extended-Family-(and-Friends-Thereof)-Resort-Takeover-and-Drunken-Waterskiing Festival. Unfortunately, Mrs. Foot was unable to "steal away" so she's staying behind with The Boy. This is a good thing, because The Boy is an unmanageable demon when he gets out into open spaces like those found in the nort' woods. Hell, he's not all that easy to contain in a well controlled environment like, say, my living room. One minute he's just a cute little shmorklet making funny faces and repeating everything (everything) you say. Next thing you know, he's assaulting someone with a large stick:
The Head of Alfredo Garcia Will be doling out the Kool Aid during my absence. Or, more accurately, barfing it back into the faces of fools like these people.