My brain is still catching up from my trip home somewhere between realizing I could die from snakebite when I'm doing a doggie bag job at the lovely Camp Roberts rest area on 101 and The Great I-5 Skivvy Jam where someone lost a pickup load of very colorful not-gender-specific underwear (in the slow lane, thankfully) or the 7 little brown guys in the 10-year-old 4-cylinder Ford F-Bucket with Arizona plates that couldn't get out of its own way and who didn't know where they were but no doubt happy they weren't in Arizona or in the gentle transition from the 7 lanes of eastbound rush hour traffic in Sackatomatoes (our state capital) to the goat path that leads to my house and this is what I've been reduced to for amusement. Caution: NSFW!
Better luck tomorrow. Hopefully...
Update:
Almost forgot. One of the highlights of our drives home from the coast is Casa de Fuckin' Everything on Hwy. 152 between Hollister and the haunted Pacheco Pass. If it can be made outta anything that grows, they've got it. Also animals, an RV Park, scads of old farm equipment, even a "Casa de Diesel" truck stop. Mrs. G got a bottle of their signature pomegranate wine and some strawberry pineapple slices. Worth a stop if you're in the area.
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