Crunchy Thoughts

My family has always had a habit of re-naming places around town to something more amusing or true. For example, if you want a computer, you go to Com-pewsa (CompUSA), to visit an older part of Birmingham you’d head to Eye-ron-delay (Irondale), you can always get some coffee at Barns and Farms (Barnes and Noble), and there is always sub-par electronics at Radio Crap (Radio Shack) where their slogan is, “You’ve got money; we’ve got junk(tm).”

This practice is still going on with Steven and me, and we’ve set to work re-naming some of the places around Auburn. In particular there is this chicken finger restaurant that has a Christian theme paired with good chicken. We’re probably going to Hell for this, but we call it Jesus Fingers. And Jesus Fingers is a good place to eat.

Well, last night I was craving me some Jesus Fingers, and since we forgot to get the taco shells for the tacos we were planning to cook, we headed over to get us some Fingers, making jokes all the way.

“What if I accidentaly ordered a place of Jesus Fingers instead of chicken fingers?” Steven asked. “Do you think they’d kick us out?”

I laughed. “Yeah, they’d smite us and say, ‘Out, sinner!’ Man, please, please, please don’t order Jesus Fingers.”

On and on we went. Would Jesus appreciate us eating his fingers or would He get offended? To that I said, “Well, He did say ‘take of this bread for it is my body.’”

Then Steven shot back, “‘Take of my fingers, for they are deep-fried.’”

At that, I just lost it, laughing so hard that tears were streaming down my face. It was a typical Carrie moment. Unfortunately, that moment happened right as we were pulling into the restaurant, so we had to sit in the car a few minutes while I got my giggles out. I was still doing my best to stifle my laughter as we finally walked inside and, thankfully, ordered chicken fingers.

We sat in the ‘Wild Goats’ section and waited for our food, pondering what circle of Hell is reserved for us. Wherever it is, I hope they serve our favourite Fingers.

I can’t recall if I’ve mentioned this before, but I’m going to be getting on a plane in two weeks, two days plus an assorted number of hours. Not that it’s been on my mind or anything. I’m headed to Las Vegas, Nevada on a nifty business conference trip. This will be very interesting because 1) I’ve never been any farther West than Arkansas, much less Nevada, and 2) I’ve never been on a nifty business conference trip before. Unfortunatly, the most economically sane way to travel there is via plane.

I had my first plane dream for the trip last night. This seems to be evolving into a tradition; I had crazy plane dreams the last time I had to fly in 1999. I still remember that one vividly. We were flying to England but in my dream we took the Concorde — this was pre-Parisian firebomb of destruction, — which turned out to be no bigger than a kayak and our bodies were exposed to the elements as we flew in a stomach-lurching, roller coaster-like fashion through high rise buildings and lots of neon lights. Crazy Dream England and their neon lights.

Last night’s dream was, thankfully, in a normal-sized plane, but we were flying to Dallas instead, go fig. We used the interstate as a runway then the pilot immediately did a barrell roll to avoid the power lines. Only after the barrell roll did the pilot announce that the roll was a planned maneuver. Thank you very much, Red Baron. Halfway through the flight I’m told it’s my responsibility to call the Dallas airport to make sure their runway is big enough for our plane, but I can’t get through to them with my cell phone; I keep getting cut off. So, because of my ineptitude, we come to find out as we land that the runway is in fact not big enough, so the plane gets caught up in power lines and everyone hates me.

I don’t think it’s helped that Steven and I have been watching the entire first season of Lost. Have you seen that? Have you seen the plane crash sequences?! Why am I getting on this plane in two weeks? Someone tell me why it’s worth it!

______________________________

Arrrrr.

While exiting the stadium Saturday after the game, we overheard our feelings summed up by a fellow fan, who said, “Well, that ol’ Auburn feeling is back.”

Indeed.

It took a while, but we finally got our next podcast up. Go check it out and listen to our lame excuses as to why it took so long.

Gettin’ close to GAMEDAY . . .