In honor of the rapture, and to cement the fact that we're not floating up, I'll share Josh story of some classy ladies of Zephyrhills.
Current mood: recumbent
After a recent trip to Chili's for dinner with my wife and neighbors, I noticed an 88 Shitbox Hatchback on our way home. In the front seat was the Zephyrhills version of Thelma and Louise (i.e. two frizzy haired, toothless hags looking hot in their undersized Jordache jeans). They were smoking cigarettes while heading into the local liquor store, undoubtedly for enough booze to help them stomach riding some homeless guy in their league.
In the back seat was Jesus. Not in person, the real Jesus wouldn't be seen with these "ladies". But in the form of a 3-foot tall framed portrait. I wonder if they felt guilty about putting him in the trunk while they gum down some dude in the back seat... I doubt it.
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