The sun was blazing as we walked toward the unimpressive building that housed the mexican restaurant. Bill said lets sit out side. No its too hot. I never get my way. You are just lucky we let you come with us so shut up Pricks, he mutteres.
Nice looking waitress looks at us like we are speaking a foreign language. Margaritas all around. She gets that. Deetto orders veggie burrito. Bill calls it a fag order. The waitress laughs and points to his strawberry marg and says pot calling kettle maybe. We all laugh at that one Sipping our salty margaritas watching the TVs. You cant look anywhere without seeing a TV. Some weather babe is pointing to red blob surrounded by yellow and green where the storms are moving in our direction Nice tits says Bill Then there is a promo for the TV station I did that spot says Bill. We hate it with the fast cuts we yell Pricks, he sulks. local celebrity babe reading the news Clooney says she looks like a skank. He wouldn't do her with Bill's dick. We eat our tacos and beans, veggie burritos and order some beer to chase down the Margs.
Look at that wind Deetoo says we look out the window at the leaves and bits of vegetation roiling around in the wind like you see on tornado hunters. Then the rain and hail for chrisakes pea sized bullets. A river of dark water churning in the streets almost over the curb. TV screen goes blue searching for sattelite signal.
By the time we finish our lunch it is all over and the TV's are working again. Clooney pays for lunch with his fathers day gift certificate. Because its my birthday,they tell me not to pay anything. Deetwo pays for the drinks. Bill says I drove and shamelessly throws in a mere fiver. Everyone calls him a cheap prick, except me.
As we leave Bill says he is glad we didn't sit outside. We pelt him with toothpicks.
He is the driver so we let him in the car. He heads back to Cherry St but being a numnutz takes a wrong turn. If that isn't enough a big tree has fallen across the road and we are forced to detour to the right. Unfamiliar streets. Suddenly it is tropical again. Strange sight: Freezing pellets of fallen hail still blanket the lawns. Clooney urges Turn Left. Deetoo says no turn right. Bill goes straight. We are hopelessly lost. Driving around the lifeless storm whipped unknown territory of auburndale two deckers and vinyl clad apartments. Yelling Where the fugawee!
Finally after wandering for what seemes like days without food or water we stumble back on familiar streets. Time is of the essence now. The Mexican fart food is building up dangerous lava pools of intestinal gasses which threaten to eruct in violent spasms of noisome vapors, or worse. I am the first to be dropped off. They all wish me happy birthday and I let go of an SBD as I exit innocently from the gray Toyota. Hah.
As the gas-filled Toyota backs out of the driveway, I wave farewell then my attention is drawn to my ruined garden. The hail has struck here too shredding the hostas and clipping the tomato plants like a scythe Where have you been yells my wife from the door the storm was awful we hid in the basement My young grandkids who we are babysitting yell grandpa you missed the tornado we were scared. then they go back to their monopoly board. I go out to the porch and sit there in the tropical dampness wondering about the tomatoes and cilantro dozing off thinking of Jack Nicholson's bucket list quote Never trust a fart
Look at that wind Deetoo says we look out the window at the leaves and bits of vegetation roiling around in the wind like you see on tornado hunters. Then the rain and hail for chrisakes pea sized bullets. A river of dark water churning in the streets almost over the curb. TV screen goes blue searching for sattelite signal.
By the time we finish our lunch it is all over and the TV's are working again. Clooney pays for lunch with his fathers day gift certificate. Because its my birthday,they tell me not to pay anything. Deetwo pays for the drinks. Bill says I drove and shamelessly throws in a mere fiver. Everyone calls him a cheap prick, except me.
As we leave Bill says he is glad we didn't sit outside. We pelt him with toothpicks.
He is the driver so we let him in the car. He heads back to Cherry St but being a numnutz takes a wrong turn. If that isn't enough a big tree has fallen across the road and we are forced to detour to the right. Unfamiliar streets. Suddenly it is tropical again. Strange sight: Freezing pellets of fallen hail still blanket the lawns. Clooney urges Turn Left. Deetoo says no turn right. Bill goes straight. We are hopelessly lost. Driving around the lifeless storm whipped unknown territory of auburndale two deckers and vinyl clad apartments. Yelling Where the fugawee!
Finally after wandering for what seemes like days without food or water we stumble back on familiar streets. Time is of the essence now. The Mexican fart food is building up dangerous lava pools of intestinal gasses which threaten to eruct in violent spasms of noisome vapors, or worse. I am the first to be dropped off. They all wish me happy birthday and I let go of an SBD as I exit innocently from the gray Toyota. Hah.
As the gas-filled Toyota backs out of the driveway, I wave farewell then my attention is drawn to my ruined garden. The hail has struck here too shredding the hostas and clipping the tomato plants like a scythe Where have you been yells my wife from the door the storm was awful we hid in the basement My young grandkids who we are babysitting yell grandpa you missed the tornado we were scared. then they go back to their monopoly board. I go out to the porch and sit there in the tropical dampness wondering about the tomatoes and cilantro dozing off thinking of Jack Nicholson's bucket list quote Never trust a fart
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