Listen up, bitches and brosefs! If you live in Juneau, you already know: A sunny weekend day in October is like Saquatch, the Loch Ness Monster, or a Chupacabra.
PICS OR IT DIDN'T HAPPEN!
And even pics alone aren't enough proof without putting that shit on blast all over social media, proving to everyone scrolling through their newsfeed that you didn't waste another sunny weekend autumn day in an otherwise typically dismal rainforest in your pajamas, too lazy and depressed to take your kids outside (i.e. yesterday).
But today is another day, and I dragged my ass--and Paige's--7 miles up a trail and back to our house, where I discovered Geoff pulling a full-on Al Pacino a.k.a. Tony Montana in Scarface with a power washer ("SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE FRIEND!")
Along the way, all I could think about was how I couldn't wait to get home, take a scalding hot shower, crawl into bed, and tell the world how proud I was of myself for moving my body from Point A to Point B in the out-of-doors; and how I might as well not have done it at all unless I could document it on this blog.
The only thing that can top off this day is a "town hall" style Presidential debate that promises to be exactly like an episode of Jerry Springer, perhaps up to and including flying chairs and shouts of DONALD! DONALD! DONALD! and a paternity test between Trump and Bill Clinton or something like that.
Donald Trump is NOT THE FATHER!!!! Aw sheeeeeeit.