. . .
While we were shopping, I considered buying an old favorite for the first time in ages.
My pal Derek and I used to put this down like nobody's business. I remember a time when he and I made a pot of this stuff -- two boxes of Cheesy Enchilada Hamburger Helper, at least a pound of ground beef, sour cream, a package of shredded cheese, and a healthy dose of Frank's RedHot. We mixed it all together and ate it on tortillas.
All of it.
In one sitting.
. . .
I had another crazy dream last night. This one took me one step deeper into weirdness beyond my experience drinking with Joe Maddon. A majority of the dream was spent finding my way around a random amusement park, but by the end, the park was starting to close and most people headed for the parking lot. Not me. I was allowed to re-enter and go into a small room packed with about 30 people.
It was dark and hot.
There was a bluegrass jam going on.
Everyone was into the music something crazy.
In the corner, I recognized him. Hair spiked up on the side for some reason and wearing a pair of badly broken sunglasses.
It was 1970s Waylon Jennings.

He, along with everyone else in the room, was covered with creamy country gravy.
End of dream. I swear...absolutely none of that is made up.
. . .
At dinner tonight, the kids started talking about how I used to have my ears pierced. I got them pierced when I was 18 and wore a small silver hoop in both ears for a few years. I'd say it's been close to twenty years since I've worn earrings and the kids wondered if the holes were still there.
Only one way to find out. A trip to Amy's jewelry box answered that question.
Obviously, hilarity ensued.
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