So dinner with the doodz wasn't enough. Oh no, not for me. I have to follow-up with a breakfast at Toot's with the bro. And fried bologna. And snausage. Grits with fake butter. Bacon and a bistit.
And no, I did not run over the Mormen riding down the road as we left. The frosty morning was sufficient punishment for them. Besides, they'd be about the only non-Bible thumping Baptists within 30 miles of where they have to live this year. That should be about enough pain for one while.