I am trying to post. I had something cute and fun and wonderful to post but blogger is stoopid and won't let me load pictures or a video or anything. So now you get this, a little tyrade typed from the bed after three unsuccessful attempts to blog something meaningful. I guess I will have to actually write something instead of bombarding you with pictures.
Chris is watching National Treasure for the bazillionth time. My favorite time of him watching it was after a Kenney Chesney concert in Columbia, SC. We went with friends and were sharing a hotel room. After some wonderful rum punch at the concert we went for a late night gourmet meal at the local waffle hut where the air conditioning was set on butt ass cold. We shivered through our frozen eggs and crispy bacon holding coffee cups to keep our hands warm just like we were in antartica. We got back to the hotel room where Chris ordered National Treasure on video on demand while the rest of us, finally warm, fell asleep. Somewhere near the end of the movie, the male portion of the other couple got up to relieve himself of rum punch and on his way back to bed turned off the tv. The tv that Chris was watching. The tv that was at a pivotal moment in National Treasure about 20 minutes from the end. Chris jumped and scrambled to get his movie back and I laid beside him snickering at the entire situation. Not only have we seen the movie a bazillion times, but that night always pops in my head when we watch it. It was a great time with friends and I don't even like country music...I did wear a cowboy hat that night and I rocked it...until the dog ate it.