It's official. I'm living in Animal House.
I had plans on Saturday to go visit my mother and to give her a mother's day present I picked up while I was on Mackinac Island last week. What awaited me once I got to my slightly rusty 13-year-old Honda Civic? Vomit on my windshield. That's right gentle blog readers - instead of yakking on the lawn, some drunken moron decided that my windshield looked entirely too clean and free of upchuck.
I was unthrilled.
Really, really, really unthrilled.
Now I don't have any proof that it was the American beer swilling college morons upstairs - but honestly now, if it walks like a duck, sounds like a duck and acts like a duck.....
Well it must be duck season.
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