See, that's what I love about you - you're so fuckin' sensitive

Lucky. That's what you should call me. I had the opportunity to visit the laundromat two times this week. Two times! Two different laundromats!

I was actually at my regular 'mat last night, and that one happens to butt up against the back of the airport property, so there's a nice vista there for sunset viewing. I always curse myself for lack of camera, but not last night. Nope. I glanced out the window, saw the sunset, and literally RAN to my car to dig out the camera and capture some shots before it faded.

I never know exactly what the shots will look like when finished, as my shades tend to give the whole thing a fiery glow that it doesn't really possess. But I can't say I was unhappy at all when I uploaded the pictures and saw this:



That is not retouched or fiddled with in any manner. That's just the way it went down.

I was inspired to scribble down some totally heartfelt poetry to go with the smashing sunset:

When I got up off my booty
I got all up in Nature's beauty
Spread like melty buttah on the sky;
I felt the tears roll out of me
And then I realized, that's pee!
Can someone bridge the river on my thigh?

Yes, I know, that's way more mush than you usually get from me. But I was inspired, man. Inspired like a hippie with a gro-light.

And just when I thought it couldn't be any more beautiful and wondrous than that, I strode into the laundromat, turned the corner, and beheld an even more primitive but splendid vision:


And the angels sang in perfect falsetto harmony...

I had nearly decimated the contents of the machine when it held Homies Series #7. My level of delight shot off the chart when I saw the new, hand-lettered sign and the full belly of the coin-operated beast. Perhaps it's best that I don't divulge just how many quarters I poured into its gullet last night. I'll save that for the photo session.

As soon as work is done today, I head over to Grand Haven to visit my family. My #1 priority? Scour the laundromats and grocery stores of Coast Guard City, in search of new and exciting Homies. Other, secondary activities planned for the weekend:

• Tease Mom about her bouffant. Repeat 1567 times.
• Watch General Hospital on SoapNet, every chance possible. Come on, two trains crashed in a tunnel that is now collapsing on top of every amnesiac, pregnant, gun-toting adulterer in Port Charles - how can I not repeat that drama over and over and over and over?
• Insist on discussing General Hospital in depth whenever Tardist enters the room, causing him to rightly believe that all the women in his family are mentally impaired,
• Sneak photographs of Squirl when she isn't looking; threaten to publish them later, thus ensuring I receive rumcake for my continued hiding of said photos.
• Refer to rumcake as "cumcake" all weekend because of its magical, orgasmic properties.
• Act like a total boneless idiot while walking the streets of Grand Haven, since I don't live there anymore and don't really give a rat's ass what the uptight residents might think of my shenanigans, and really, I hope it pisses 'em off, or at least confuses 'em.
• Eat Mexican food at the Tip-a-Few. Feel pangs of gas and regret almost immediately.
• Battle with Tardist and Squirl all weekend for the one Internet-connected computer in Mom's apartment. Plot to set them up with wireless, immediately. I will not be denied my blogging, dammit!
• Celebrate my one-year blogiversary on Saturday. The blog may be hung over on Sunday.

Bonus Bucky Points if you can tell me where I got the quote that is the title of this post.