Redneck Bar & Grill

     Yesterday, I decided I would go out for a drive.  I had no particular destination in mind I just wanted to see where the road would take me.  I was certain that I would find some excitement along the way.  Alas, no such luck.  There was no male hitch-hiker who turned out to be a homicidal maniac that I would have to escape from after I picked him up.  No female hitch-hiker who would turn out to be a nymphomaniac that I wouldn’t want to escape from after I picked her up.  At no point did I come across a road sign pointing to free Blue Beaver Beer down a narrow overgrown trail that actually led to a house where a crazed inbred family would at first seem like nice (but slightly eccentric) people, but who would later try to kill and eat me.  Nobody even cut my brake line when I stopped at a small backwoods general store, so that I would end up hurtling down a long winding mountain pass. 

     It was an utterly uneventful day.  When I got home I wasn’t even so much as shaken up because I narrowly avoided hitting some sort large sasquatch type creature.  I’m beginning to think that maybe you can’t believe everything that you see in horror movies (not even the ones that are "inspired by actual events).  Next thing you know I’ll find out that it’s not possible for a deformed man wearing a hockey mask and wielding a machete to be a totally unstoppable murdering force of nature.  That will disappoint Sandi even more than me.

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