But Do They Sell a Big Gulp?

My friends Tall Brad and Mean Mr. Mustard were both on vacation last week. Mean Mr. Mustard partied the you-pee and Tall Brad rubbed elbows with rock stars (Bob Schneider - whose CD is actually sitting in front of my computer downstairs) in Breckenridge, Colorado. Actually, Tall Brad would have to stoop to rub elbows with most of humanity - so maybe he just elbowed Bob in the head. Hope it doesn't affect his music. I have pilfered two photos from Tall Brad's pictures as he doesn't have a blog of his own. Item one, a picture Tall Brad took on vacation that he thought I would find very funny.

Item two - a picture I had Pooteewheet take in South Dakota the week before because I thought my friends might find it amusing.


Can I pick my friends, or what?

And item three - an A & W Sign Tall Brad saw on vacation. I don't know about you, but I find myself extremely unlikely to discover Jesus at the bottom of a root beer (or orange) float - though my pareidolia does extend to clocks and grilled cheese sandwiches, among other things. If you're not familiar with Isaiah 53, by the way: "And God so loved root beer floats and Coney Cheese Dogs, that he did send his only son, Jesus, down to fetch him some as he had the wicked munchies. "