New Pictures and Philly in detail

I�m running on a week delay. These are from the weekend of the 13th. Philly pics are coming soon to a computer near you.

This is what happens when you invite us to your party and we have smuggled in postcards advertising courses in adult dancing. Be aware we will deny knowledge of them.

What happens when you ask me to make margaritas:

I�m happy to be here...honest.

Who doesn�t want a picture with this woman? No one...that�s who.

Now that a mediocre synopsis of the weekend has been posted more and more details are coming back to me. I will break them down into segments. Hopefully I capture the meat of the story and it doesn�t turn out to be one of those �you had to be there scenarios.�

Scene one was getting back into the car after eating at the diner and hopping into the car to begin the first leg of the journey. After about 25 miles of singing along to pop idols and generally turning my car into a glittering rainbow flag Marcus says something along the lines of �nobody move.� My first thought was we were getting pulled over and then I look over at Marcus, who�s riding shotgun and notice that one of our MD cicada friends decided it wanted to attach itself to Marcus� jeans and take the road trip with us. I guess we were just too much in the parking lot so he decided to be a stow away. The music goes down, Reggie screams and I put my hazards on. Had I had a little more sense in me at the time I would have snatched it off his leg and threw it out my window like the butch mother I am. Instead rather there was a lot of head turning, lane changing and an eventual stop on the shoulder of I-95N so that we could let his monkey ass out of the car and fly away to be with the rest of his buzzing crew. The cicada was looking for love in all the wrong places especially considering that I had single footedly caused the cicada massacre of the IHOP in College Park. *CRUNCH*

Crisis averted, we drove on. Britney got us through and I couldn�t have been more grateful. I�d like to thank Ms. Spears, the patient drivers on I-95, and the cicada for picking Marcus� leg and not Reggie�s otherwise he would have tucked and rolled out of the car and the last thing I wanted to do was dial 9-1-1. It was, after all, a vacation of sorts and who wants blood and ambulances this soon into the trip? We hadn�t even crossed into Delaware yet, sheesh.

e.