It's like a...

...different country here is Southern California. I want to move here...all I need is a source of independent wealth, idependent of my work product, that is. I'm thinking maybe finding a way to corner the market on some essential product out here is the way to an easy California life. Maybe twine for weed whackers or some coupe de commerce that gives me a stranglehold on the world's supply of flip flops....

The lady next door has a lemon tree in her back yard with lemons on it the size of...well...big lemons I guess. (Another opprtunity for hyperbolic excess is lost...alas, I am the victim and you are the beneficiary of a totally unexpected attack of restraint.)

Had a nice Viet Namese lunch of pho noodle soup...some of the best tripe and tendon I have ever slurped down.

If you look around, you get the impression that they spend all their time washing their cars...haven't seen a dirty car yet and as for the pick up trucks, apparently no one out here is interested in "Cruisin' in memory of fill in the blank" anybody.

Met someone last night who once lived in someplace called "Rancho Cucamunga". How can anyone say that with a straight face? Or Pismo Beach either for that matter.

It's really intimidating for a reformed redneck from Virginia...

Comments

[ellie]

Just so you know, Pismo Beach is full of rednecks who also happen to wear flip-flops and drive trucks. On the beach. Seriously.

[Susan]

Well,you should add "pho noodle soup" to that list of what you can't say with a straight face, because if it sounds like it looks, ain't no way in heaven or hell you would get me to say it, let alone order it...I eat no one's poo, even if it is noodle poo.