Gotta go see my good friend Irish Gumbo this weekend. I don’t have time to do this in real life (not that blogging isn’t real life), so I’m driving my blog over to where he lives: the Metaphorical East Coast. I think America’s Sputnik Moment landed there. We’re gonna pick up some friends along the way, and fulfill his greatest desire: to be warm.
One way or another.
- My special road trip banjo, which is different than my normal banjo. You never know when the mood will strike.
- 20 pounds of pork rinds. It’s a long trip.
- Frozen Irish Gumbo in tupperware. Ironic that I’m going to see a frozen Irish Gumbo, and I’m bringing him frozen Irish Gumbo. Let me know if that makes sense, eventually.
- Warm clothes. It’s not Hell-frozen-over where I live, but it sure is where he is. I might even pack the red long johns with the butt flap. Heheh, I said butt flap.
- Dilithium crystals for the warp drive. ‘Cause I gotta get there, like, tomorrow. Impulse power just isn’t gonna cut it.