It’s really hard to curb the curse words–a phase I’m looking to end–when shit like this keeps happening. Plus, I re-remember that I must pitch a tent when I reach camp at least four times a day…and all I ever feel about this is “…damn.”
I’m in Palisade. Small town that consists of a bar, another bar, a liquor store, a gas station (WITH BAIT AND ICE CREAM), and a post office (don’t hold your breath. Only because you picky mail receivers have very specific locations you want mail from and they are all New Orleans. Real original). Oh! And a self serve car wash that resourcefully speaking, could work as a shower. Sooo….We good, yo.
The bar opens soon. I’ll have wifi and a beer and you’ll get less complaining posts. Deal? Deal.