This morning Uncle Bob fixed a lot of great tasting French Toast. There were just a few people in the kitchen at first, and then, when the aroma permeated, bodies came out of the woodwork. Bob used eight eggs and managed to spoil the punchline on a few pirate stories. After a while there was a massive run on the facilities, and there was fighting in the hallways for a spot in line. Outside there were huge waves and grey skies. An attempt to drum up interest in beach volleyball and a trip to the Ebro Dog Track fizzled. We headed off for shell beach.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
French Toast
This morning Uncle Bob fixed a lot of great tasting French Toast. There were just a few people in the kitchen at first, and then, when the aroma permeated, bodies came out of the woodwork. Bob used eight eggs and managed to spoil the punchline on a few pirate stories. After a while there was a massive run on the facilities, and there was fighting in the hallways for a spot in line. Outside there were huge waves and grey skies. An attempt to drum up interest in beach volleyball and a trip to the Ebro Dog Track fizzled. We headed off for shell beach.
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2 comments:
So at this point, does that house feel like a variation of a "clown car" at a circus? You know, the ones where like 15 clowns squeeze out of a '78 VW Beetle....
duh,duh dunna dunna duh duh dunnnnnn---aaaahh.
And of course at that big-top, there is no quick exit to the cotton-candy station or the candied apple vendor, only a ticket to see the bearded lady (for 7 days in a row)
Oh, I don't think its any where near that organized! After all the clowns are professionals in the end, and this place is stuffed with asylum escapees. More like the 12 Monkeys.
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