Hear me, see me, feel me......

While plunging willy-nilly into the depths of weirdness caused by too little sleep and too many crime novels and too much cooking.....

Cachagua is always there.....a bass beat in the background.

Last Sunday, after the Big Sur wedding where we literally almost killed a band member.....and the van blew a radiator hose on Hurricane Point......and we had a walk in 12 top for all Eggs Benedict....and a surprise bride for a tasting.....

I sat out back with the Grumpy Old Men's Club: Dave, Grant, John, John, Bobby, Fred.....like that. Talk was that Rex's.....a venerable old bar in Cachagua at Prince's Camp....was going to be turned into a Church.

There used to be a church next to my Store....in fact we inherited their septic tank when the church washed away in the floods in '97. The howlingly (first English use of that adverb) stupid previous owners of The Store hooked up the dishwash machine to said septic tank. Only because normally the geographics of septic tanks go: tank, tank, drainfield....and the church was upstream from The Store....they hooked us up to the drainfield only, saving the septic tank all that work.

Anyway, the New Church of Cachagua is supposed to show up at Rex's. Everyone had a solemn moment of thought about that....being it was Sunday and all.

Then Grant piped up: Well, I guess if they are going to have a denomination in Cachagua, I guess we all know what they will be......"

Everyone turned to look at him.....

"It's obvious........"

"Crystal Meth-odists"

Rim shot, ka-ching.