Let's pause a moment to reflect on the beauty and extreme yumminess of the sushi.
And let's not confuse my friend K Who Lives Up The Street with my other friend K Who Lives In The Middle Of The State, or my friend K Who Lives in Ohio, or my friend K Who Lives Ten Minutes North Of My House. I know, it can be confusing. Much thanks to the seventies for bringing K back.
Also, because I'm all about the K today, if you haven't tried K hard cider, you totally should. Because it's good, that's why. And K + Chambourd = happy mama. Try it.
Back to mah girlie date with K Who Lives Up The Street. She came down the street to pick me up because she is a classy dame. And as fate would have it, we were dressed alike because we's some classy dames. Brown shirt, dark blue jeans... except I had a supercute babeh I was wearing as my most obvious accessory. I was wearing that guy in a green and blue paisley reversible sling that I had finished making only seconds after my friend K Who Lives Up The Street walked in the door. Because I'm a crafty, classy dame, and don't you forget it.
Eventually we left my house, and hopped in her cute little car to go to Rochester.
Here's where the Bad, Bad Thing happened.
But not to us, so just relax.
There is a little section of the major road, we'll call it Route 98, just for fun, and well, because that's what road it is, where there are four lanes. And because all of us are clever? We call it The Four Lanes. Honest to God, that's what we call it.
Well, people drive like complete jackasses at The Four Lanes. The extra two lanes are turning lanes, actually, but jackasses believe them to be PASSING ON THE RIGHT AT INTENSELY EXCESSIVE SPEEDS LANES.
The car in front of us stopped. The two cars coming at us in the opposite lane stopped. We stopped. The Complete Jackass behind us? FLOORED IT AND PASSED ON THE RIGHT.
And she killed Mr. G's grandson's beagle that Mr. G was dogsitting while his son recuperated from surgery.
Everybody pulled over, and I got out, Jackass Dog-Killer just sat there, and people came out of the houses to see what the deal was. Fortunately, the dog died immediately, and didn't suffer or gross me out. I walked over to the Jackass Dog-Killer's car and looked at her with my Scary Teacher Eyes.
Good job, I said. That could have been a kid.
And I muttered, Asshole.
Which was not the right thing to do, but that's between me and God and I apologized to Him for saying something that I shouldn't have said even though it was true. I apologize quite a lot for saying things I shouldn't say even though they are true.
Then I got back in my friend K Who Lives Up The Street's car and we went to eat raw fish. And we liked it. The end.
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