Hillbilly bowling and beyond

My socks have stars on them.

Also, today was crazy in a box. Minus the box. It was awesome.

First, we went to this little tiny church around the corner. Ok, so they had as many people as we do, but it was still little and tiny. Don't argue. There were very nice older people, and the greeter lady gave us nice cards and tea bags for visiting. Only we don't drink tea. So I'm not sure what we do now. Does that make us heathens? Are the angels frowning down upon us because of our dislike of Lipton? And tea in general? Somehow I doubt it, because I'm pretty sure that in Heaven there are rivers of orange soda. Not tea. That would be a nasty looking river. Plus orange soda is the bestest thing out there. Ever. Yes, I realize I said bestest. Don't talk. Aaaanyways, it was very nice and little and quite enjoyable. Until the music/piano lady stood up, looked at us, and said, "Would our guests like to do a special?" We just kind of sat there...Dad shook his head but she ignored him. She looked at Mom, and said, "Will you sing?" like 4 times before Mom said, "We don't sing," and she left us alone and made some other people sing instead. It was very weird. Not cool. We don't sing, except in the car. Singing-ness is not the only gift God gives people, people. So don't assume that just because we're in ministry we could make in on American Idol or something. Because we can't. I'm sorry if that's in your preacher-family manual. It's not in mine. But then, mine's in NKJV, and yours might be the Message. I don't know. No offence by the way. Anyways, we made it out alive and special-less. Sad day.

After the whole beingfreakedoutbecausewethoughtweweregoingtoberoundhousekickedintosingingsomethingwedidn'tknowfortotalstrangers thing, we were all about ready to DIE of hunger. You think I'm kidding, but I'm not. Well yes I am. But not the point. Anyways, the town/city/village/resort/randomplacewherehouseshappentobe doesn't have any fast food. So we drove our starving selves around until we found a nice little resteraunt. That happened to be connected to a bar and a bowling alley. They had good pizza. We ate. We went bowling. Which was cool, because I got like 2 strikes, and that never happens. I didn't win, but I at least beat some...other people. Oh, and we had to keep score for ourselves. On a piece of PAPER. I have NEVER ever seen that before. It was quite fascinating, let me tell you. Good thing Dad was around when they had those kinds of things, or we might have had to ask the nerdyglassessmokerwhotalkstorandompeoplelikemybrotherinthebathroom guy who works there for help. I actually kind of liked his glasses. Also, I hope that some day, in about 13 years, more than 7 people read this blog, and I become rich and famous and can buy Snuggies for my dogs. OK, back to your regularly scheduled programing. Bowling is nice. I like it. But sometimes you have very interesting people in bowling alleys. People that select Kenny Chesney on the Jukebox (that was at least electronic) and turn it up louder than it can legally go. People that dress scarily and have tattoos in weird places. People who go up to other people of the opposite gender that I don't think they actually know and start flirting under the guise of "I can't bowl, but you can. So teach me now!" People who end up sharing a pitcher of beer with the other people. While smoking. And then start making out. But don't worry about the 11 year old kid sitting right there. And the 5 year old in the other lane. Who was lucky enough to merit bumpers. Ha. First of all, there are certain places in which one should not do certain things. Second of all, there are certain things that should not be done to begin with. Wow, this is getting really long. But it's entertaining, so you shall keep reading, yes? Of course yes. Don't be silly.

That was an adventure. A kind of weird, slightly gross adventure, but still an adventure. Besides, I got 2 strikes, remember? After that, Ripley's Believe It Or Not was almost tame. Almost. Did you know that they do in fact make paper out of elephant poop? And furthermore, they call it "Poo Poo Paper," and sell it in gift shops! Which is like THE single coolest thing EVER. But do you think my nice father would buy me some? Nope. So I went and told the nice guy that worked there that my daddy wouldn't buy me elephant poop. He laughed. I'm sure he probably gets that a lot. They weren't exactly sold out. It was oderless, by the way.

I think that's about it for today...oh, except that we went down to the Landing, which is like the coolest place ever, and they shot fire and water to the tune of I don't know what it was, but before that they played Taylor Swift. Which has nothing to do with anything, but I thought I'd tell you anyway. Oh, and on the way down there, there were weird old men with horse pulley thingys, only I would never ride them, on account of they were so rude as to make their horses wear the dumbest hats ever, and if I were a horse I would be mortified. I am thinking that there are a lot of run on sentences in this post. But such is life. Also you should never start a sentence with 'but' or 'and,' which I have also been doing. I hope the grammer gods don't kill me. BUT I'm not too worried. What were we talking about? The Landing. The light posts played music, which kind of freaked the Sister out. We were going to go take some pictures on this little dock thingy, which didn't really look different from anything else, only there was a gangster dude fishing off of it. So we didn't.

And we also killed an armadillo. It was loud and crunchyyy. That, my friends, is a true story.