Polish Joke...

...would be the name of the play I saw this weekend, in Portsmouth, with KBH. After we went to the Friendly Toast and holy Honolulu have they gotten expensive.

But I digress. The play was pretty sweet, a bit long and draggy in places, but overall very funny, and we both had front-row seats so when the guy dressed as a bike cop came out in painted-on shorts his junk was eye-level with KBH. (We got there late and had to take seats in different sections.)

One of the highlights of the evening was the drive home, during which KBH played a Garth Brooks CD. I had forgotten she liked country. "I've been listening to it since I was 19!" she said. Ah yes. That would be the summer she worked at a local farm and I worked at a factory and the work was repetitive and the soundtrack was WOKQ.

I stopped listening to country after that summer. KBH kept at it, and married a man who likes country music, and they played some at their wedding. And she knows all the words to this song, and sang it to me a capella while I rode bitch in her truck and laughed so hard I could barely breathe. Later I realized I'd been serenaded like this before--by Dr. Moo.

Good times, good times.