That was one of the critiques I got in writing class for one of my stories. Seriously. How do lose control of something like a story? Maybe I lost control of my hand, and that is why it was choking you in class.
Anyway, in more civil activities (but not much), I’m going to Dream Machines today in Half Moon Bay to watch the demolition derby. Yup. Full on redneck. You know what they say – “You can take the girl out of redneckville, but you can’t extract the redneck from the girl.” The extraction fails because sooner or later some redneck activity, like a demo derby, entices the redneck out into the open space.
I’m making Bakingnotwriting go with me. She claims she is going full on white trash and wear her daisy dukes shorts and a big sun hat. I say, “Bring it,” and though she was mostly brought up in Berkeley, she can imitate a Southern accent like nobody’s business. I am going to make her do that too all day.
We are also hoping to ride in the monster truck, if the line isn’t too long.
And finally, Bakingnotwriting’s mom has told us to bring her back a lobster roll. The Big Guy has given me $$$ to get BNW’s Mom a lobster roll though I am conflicted about this. I certainly don’t want to carry around a lobster roll all day in my tiny hand that might get out of control and throw it in the garbage. It seems if we put it in the trunk of BNW’s car, the thing might kill Mom by the time it gets to her. The Big Guy looked at me kind of disgusted like when I was whining about this and said, “Just buy it right before you leave. How hard is that?”
Plenty. We might be 7 acres away from the lobster dispensing truck by the time we get ready to leave. So, I asked Bakingnotwriting about it, and she said, “Who knows? We might ‘forget.'”