The One With the Bum Picture

Yes, this is my rear end. It's a long story, but I sat in wet stucco. I know, huh? I'm driving hundreds of miles in a car, so how did I sit in wet stucco? It is not my fault. Skippy actually tricked me. I'm not going to talk about it anymore. These were my most comfortable jeans.

You still haven't figured out where I was with guitar-shaped pool? Hmm. I'll give you a big hint. It has a Spanish-sounding name. That should narrow it down.

So I have been playing car tag with this old couple for the last hundred miles. Grandma is driving, which is a sure sign that I should give them a wide berth. Oh, and they're both wearing those giant wraparound sunglasses--you know the kind--they are post-eye-surgery glasses, guaranteed to screen out every last unwanted ray. Every time they pass me, they turn to stare, and then look at each other. I can almost hear the conversation. "GLADYS, we keep going by the same people. Are you sure we're not lost? We must be going around in circles!" Yes, Grandpa, you do keep going by the same people. But it's just me, playing a cruel trick on you. Psyching you out with my cruise control.