Zombies

I know I'm a little late getting on this bandwagon, but today, I picked up a copy of The Zombie Survival Guide. I hadn't even opened it yet, I just set it on the kitchen table and went back to the car to get more of the groceries, and my father-in-law picked it up.

Him: "Did you get this for me?"

Me: "Uh, no."

So, I guess I know what to get him for Father's Day. It won't be nearly as cool as what I got my own dad, which was two pair of jeans and a hat that has a bottle opener built in. Because nothing says Happy Father's Day like something enabling one's father to embalm himself with Budweiser. Let's just put a pin in that for now because I'm not in the mood for crying or hollerin'.

Oh, yeah, by the way, I'm back in Wyoming. My fortnight in Colorado was pretty horrible, and I wish I could tell you why I was there but you would all just yell WHY DO YOU PUT UP WITH THAT. K.'s wedding this Sunday was really nice. My mother actually showed up to it, and brought her politician boyfriend. My friend Tom, who is K.'s brother, sat next to him and they talked grassroots campaigning and the economy for a few hours. I ended up ditching the wedding party's table an hour in for a few reasons, one being that nobody else from the wedding party was sitting there, the other being that my poor, sweet Gabe kept sending me texts with the words "scissors" and "bustle" and I knew it was only a matter of time before he snapped.