Eat it Eat it
To read the first installment in the Open Mouth Series, click here. To read the second, go here and the third, click here. Otherwise, this post won’t make sense. Besides, it’s yet another photo of me with my mouth open.
All that climbing. It made the fat cells in her derriere scream, “FEED ME! FEED ME! FOR THE LOVE OF A FREAKING CHEESEBURGER, FEED ME!”
Because she ran all the way from the shores of Alaska to the White Cliffs of the Missouri, she WAS rather depleted. Getting out of the White Cliffs was no picnic, either. The closest town was a ghost, surrounded by lots of cows (alive and thus, to her, inedible) and one deer (also alive, and thus also inedible.)
She lost her Bear Sasquatch Creature, and she was bereft, wandering sandstone slot canyons and looking for the ghosts of the Corps of Discovery, when she stopped. And rubbed her eyes.
Picnic tables? And a roadside diner? In the middle of nowhere?
She waited in line and strolled up to the window, praying the Bear Sasquatch Creature gave her his wallet before he disappeared. Enough plastic or bills to procure some nourishment for her sad, shriveling backside.
And, lookey there. She got lucky.