Crap.

It was a good week. Lots of driving, lots of friends, lots of flat boring portions of these United States.

But now the road trip is over. A call last night informed us that Shelby Woo the Subaru is dead. Done. Gone to a better place. Kicked the proverbial bucket. Was sent to a nice farm in the country where she can run and play all day long with other Subaru's. The amount it would take to fix her is roughly 75% more than what we originally paid for her... a month and a half ago.

So now we're crashing with Chandler's step aunt and uncle in Denver, trying to figure out what happens with our lives now. No money. No jobs. No home. No clippers to shave this burly man-beard I cultivated for the road trip.

But in the midst of the despair, there is a light that never goes out (freakin' A the Smiths!). I can see the Rocky Mountains from the window next to me, there's a Chipotle less than a mile away, and I happen to have $10 in my pocket. The Good Lord's taken care of us so far, and I've always wanted to go dumpster diving.

Things. Just. Got. Interesting.




The Illest of Hip Hop Gangster Shoutouts To:
Lila Jeanne Taylor, born yesterday to Kyle and Sarah. Welcome to Thunderdome little nugget.