More rain. Today was actually torrential. Last time I said torrential I was blindly misusing it because I didn't know we were about to drive into monsoon season. Also, the hole in the bottom of the car's floor from my passenger side braking has been joined by claw marks in the Holy Shit handle. It wasn't entirely Kyle's fault though, to be fair, I'm going to blame this on the whack nut engineer that decided to carve a shoddy excuse for a road on the side of a mountain while on PCP, making it barely wide enough to accommodate my ass, let alone a car. Looking out the passenger side window I was unable to see the white line due to the sheer drop off 200 feet down into the jagged cliffs of Northern California. Luckily motion sickness is a quick cure for anxiety and after an hour of hairpin turns I was feeling totally relaxed. And nauseous. Actually not relaxed. But really nauseous.
Tonight's restaurant of choice was rated number three in the city. Looked up some reviews on the internet, four and a half stars out of five, family run Italian eatery, good, good. The pasta came with soup or salad and after the waitress listed the dressings I chose the house vinaigrette. Salad arrives...the house vinaigrette turns out to be a creamy dill ranch. Huh. Plus it's so thoroughly coated in it that you wouldn't even know the lettuce was green. Hell it maybe it wasn't. Double hell, maybe it wasn't even lettuce. Maybe it was some genetically modified hybrid plant made by cross pollenating lawn grass with cardboard and made crispy by deep frying it.
On a more positive note I saw a bottle of Merlot for $2.21 in the Safeway. God Bless U.S. All.
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