Gotta get up and moving tomorrow. Gotta go to Jungle Jim's and buy refreshments for the Sunday bonfire. Then it's on the church to finish preparing the stained glass for soldering. And I still need to get another clergy or two for Chrysalis; the three calls I've got out don't seem to be yielding any fruit, so time to go hunting again. Then gotta call Delores RE Knife & Fork Club (our moveable feast).
When I went to the bank this morning, there was this truck with jacked-up suspension and big tires in the parking lot, taking up two spaces. The driver had pulled in diagonally across both spaces. I don't know why: perhaps he didn't want his paint job scratched; perhaps the dinky parking lot made for a tight turn into the spaces; maybe he was just lazy.
But I know this: the good ol' boys where I come from would have disdained the driver of this truck. They would say that if you can't whip that puppy into the space provided for it, then the problem isn't that the truck is too big for the space, but that the truck is too big for the driver.
