dude, where’s my car?

there’s nothing like leaving to go to work, and not finding your car where you thought you left it.

we had massive confusion in the household yesterday morning. i was ready to go to yoga, and the lovely PB scampered off to work. he was back within 4 seconds of stepping outside – i could hear him stomping the ground, i even think i heard him kicking the tires of my car, which were a pale substitute for what he really wanted to kick – namely himself. why? because he had left his car 11 miles from home. how did his car end up in the equivalent of siberia you ask?

i met him there (in siberia) yday – we left his car there and headed off to a nice outlet mall (i think that’s an oxymoron, but just go with me) 20 miles away (did i ever mention we live miiiiiles from most anything?) bc he needed simple v-necks to make it through an excrutiatingly long business trip to freezing cold canada (i know i know, one week is not technically excrutiatingly long, but time is relative so there).

the shopping expedition was v successful, we ended up going crazy at the puma store, had a great time, took ourselves to dinner, drove home high on love and new sneakers. it was a great evening.

except we never picked up his car …

i still think it’s hilarious, i still think he doesn’t think so.

and in closing, i leave you with another dude.

since i am useless at embedding video – please go to youtube.com and search for dude budweiser light. dude, just do it.

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