Waterfest was wet! And that's not a good thing. Plenty of cool VWs and Audis, but also plenty of punks and small floods. Check out my photos here.

OK, let's discuss this sign that I see in the morning on my way to work over near the dairy farm:




Now I'm not try to poke fun, I genuinely feel bad about the little chickens, but boy does that scream, "You know you're a redneck when..." or what? I was so scared when I slowed down to take the photo that maybe some shotgun-toting hick was going to come out and shoot out my tires because he'd think I ran over his chickens.

That sign reminds me of when I lived in the Dominican Republic in college. And in the morning my Dominican "mom," Doris, drove me to the concho stop. (A concho is like a public car, but an old, early '80s Datsun with a rusted out floor with literally seven people -- plus or minus a few chickens -- packed into it.) One morning as we drove through the dirty, windy, city streets, she was undoutably yelling at my rowdy little Dominican "siblings," Albert and Angelica, and wasn't watching where she was driving (not that Dominicans are known for their safe driving skills or anything) and she ran over a chicken crossing the road.
Thump.
Me: Gasp!
Doris: "Aye Dios miiiiiio! I saaar-ey!"
Boy, that shut those brat kids up. And Doris kept driving.