and she said.. "how you interpret the dream is probably more important than the dream itself"

Nobody likes a whiner. This is true. In fact, the squeaky wheel may get the grease but it's the quiet ones that are truly appreciated.

Just shut the fuck up.

Just post simple things.

Camp was a blast and so we were all in good spirits when we hit the road to return to the real world, heading down Interstate 95 in our bombers - a beat-to-hell geo metro (3 cylinders! Three frickin' cylinders)

and my '87 Slaab.

We kept our eyes open and our digital camera ready for cute chicks on the highway but as it is with the Maine highway, they were far and few between, so we had to make due with just making faces at eachother and trying to run eachother off the road.

Finally found a cute hippy chick flying by in her Volvo station wagon decked out in bumper stickers and anti-bush window dressings. She was rocking out to some music with her blonde curly hair bouncing in the wind and her foot sticking out the window. We watched her fly by and she smiled at us. We felt blessed.

We sped up and tried to snap a few pictures of her but they came out with too much glare and then, when she caught us in the act, we saw her throw her head back with laughter and she stomped on the accelerator. As she cruised by she rubbernecked us and blew a kiss.

We slowed down to let the Metro catch up.

When we got off in Augusta she waved to us and we waved back, happy to have had a driving buddy on the boring run from camp. We pulled into the Citgo station to wait for my dad who was driving my car up to get some work done on it. Dad's are good for something. He was late, though, so we chatted with the high school kids pumping gas and watched the late afternoon traffic trickle by. Dad's are a pain in the ass sometimes, too.

Now it's friday and it's my last day of work for a long long time and I'm not planning on doing any real work. That's in the contract, right? It's part of federal law I think - must provide 15 minute government mandated breaks and no work shall be required of an employee on their last day.

Or it should be anyway.

Had an 8am company meeting so you'd think maybe I'd have got to bed early or something but I didn't, nothing new there. Up till all hours talking with the crazy roommate's sister who, strangely enough, is a smokin' babe and had drivin' up from Maryland yesterday and was crashing at our pad. Good looking Maine girl with an amazingly even tan from Florida. I guess there is something good about that state.

...

And since it's good, I'll rip this off from Tony who ripped it off from devoy who left it in tony's comments section:

A 70-year-old Texas Rancher got his hand caught in a gate while working cattle. He wrapped the hand in his bandana and drove his pickup to the doctor. While suturing the laceration, the doctor asked the old man about George W. Bush being in the White House.

The old Texan said, "Well, ya know, Bush is a 'Post Turtle.'"

Not knowing what the old man meant, the doctor asked what a Post Turtle was.

The old man looked at him and drawled, "When you're driving down a country road and you come across a fence post with a turtle balanced on top, that's a Post Turtle."

The old man saw a puzzled look on the doctor's face, so he continued to explain:

"You know he didn't get there by himself, he doesn't belong there, he can't get anything done while he's up there, and you just want to help the poor dumb bastard get down."