feliz revolucion!

he plunked it down with a wide shit eating grin. must've weight fifty pounds. when people 'talk around the water cooler', they do it around one of these. a big ole sparklets water bottle.

filled to the brim with change, mostly the silver stuff, and some wadded up bills.

"happy birthday, moan. double digits, that's a big fucking deal. that's the big time, kid."

"thanks, dad." truth be told, i wasn't so hot at math and didn't comprehend that there were several hundred dollars contained in that birthday gift. it seemed like a kinda dumb present. it sure as hell wasn't a malibu barbie or combat rock. but oh well. i was an ingrate like that.

so we went lost weekend tripping. me, my dad, my step mom in her impossibly teeny short shorts, and dana, my ten year old step-aunt.

the idea was to have an 'ass kicking road trip. laguna beach, wild animal farm, tijuana, and vegas baby.

a quick highlight reel reveals-

my dad almost drown in laguna beach. he kept pushing himself to go out farther and farther until a wave knocked him under and we didn't find him until he washed ashore 20 minutes later. laughing, coughing up seaweed.

at the wild animal farm, he parked his truck between two angry rhinos and baited them until they charged the car.

in tijunana, my dad and terry left dana and me on the avenue de la revolucion where we were greeted by hungry children, men selling firecrackers, and friendly hookers. they finally came back around midnight with the biggest pair of longhorns you ever saw. stuffed to the rim with high grade pot.

as for vegas? what happens in vegas stays in vegas.

didn't you know that?

happy birthday to yours truely. double digits plus, and counting.