Teh 'Bride and I were the only ones from our side of the family who could make it to my Aunt Dorothy's funeral the other day. It was a 10 a.m. funeral in Lansdale, PA, just outside of Philadelphia and Teh 'B and I left at 8 a.m. which should have given us plenty of time to get there on time because Google Maps said it was a one hour and 23 minute trip but guess what because you'll never guess.
We were late.
And that happened because originally Google Maps said, hey go THIS way — it'll only take 58 minutes; but THIS way would've taken us via a road I happen to know twists and turns and just fucking well goes out of its way to get you lost in the hinterlands of PA's Bucks County and if you've ever been to PA's Bucks County you'd agree with me that "Bucks" is probably a typo for "Sucks"1.
So I grabbed one of the little nubbie things on the route-line generated by Google Maps, saying, Fuck YOUR suggestion, Google Maps! Give us directions that'll get us there THIS way, via major arteries. And I dragged the little nubbie thing until Google Maps gave us directions to Lansdale via 95 and the PA Turnpike.
Yeah, but the thing is? The directions as to how to get on the PA turnpike from 95? Not so intuitive. And the Pennzers2 haven't quite learned Teh Ancient Art of Useful Road Signage because two miles before the exit for the turnpike there would be a sign with an arrow saying "Penna Turnpike" but when you got to the exit? No sign for the turnpike. O, sure, there were signs, saying things like Route This and Route That. But nothing for the turnpike.
And so you reckon quite reasonably, Well, then, the exit for the turnpike must be the next exit. But you realize, to your dismay, when you get off at that exit, that it is not the exit for the turnpike, and you (meaning Teh 'Bride, who's driving) risk life and limb trying to get across traffic on a busy Pennzer highway so you can get back on 95 going the other way and get back to the exit where the connection to the turnpike can be made.
And then but so even when you do that and you (again, you = Teh 'Bride) get to that exit (and there are NO SIGNS for the turnpike going this direction, either) going like 90 because you realize, now, that even though you gave yourself a 35 minute driving time buffer you're still going to be late for the fucking funeral, and when you get off at the correct exit, finally, finally, you further realize that the connection to the turnpike is not a direct one and so you end up getting lost in local traffic in Bristol, PA, where the kids are sharp as a pistol3 when they do their eponymous Stomp and you do manage to spot the turnpike signs, but the directions they give are contradictory; because when you follow one sign you end up on a road that is clearly wrong, and you look back and, going the other way, there's another turnpike sign pointing you back in the very direction from which you've just come (that's what she said!)!
And this whole time, Teh 'Bride is going, "Fuckity fuck fuck fucky fucky fuckity fucking Pennzers can't make useful signs fuckity fuck with a Large Fuck4 on top!1!"
We finally did get on the turnpike, though.
And just as it looked as though we still might actually make it to the funeral on time, and we're less than 2 miles from the church?
Yeah, the road was closed due to construction and we were detoured about 5 miles out of our way. And Teh 'Bride's all: "FUCKITY FUCK FUCKING PENNZERS!1!"
This post is already too long, so tune in tomorrow for part two of Our Day At The Funeral, in which a Genuine Frenchman pronounces Teh 'Bride's name with his French Accent and Teh 'Bride swoons as she's FUCKITY FUCK well never done over anything I've ever said!
6.4 mile run this morning at an 8:54 pace
1 In fact, parts of Bucks County are quite rural and picturesque, even breath-takingly so. But the part of Bucks County where this particular route loses you?
Yeah, pretty sucky.
2 Teh 'Bride's ... let's just say "pet name" ... for Philadelphians and Pennsylvanians ever since she, a life-long Joiseyan, attended a party, years ago, at my brother's house in Fishtown (a part of Philadelphia) and all the people there, including me, got drunk, which was typical of Teh 'Bro's parties at the time, and they were all Philadelphians and, as is typical with Drunken Philadelphians, the conversation eventually turned to the topic of Jersey Drivers and How Horrible They Are and everyone shared their Favorite Jersey Driver Stories, including me, and Teh 'Bride Proud Garden State-Reared Heart was taking all of this in and on the drive back home — Joisey Driver Teh 'Bride behind the wheel — I got an earful about what JERKS those Pennzers were and LOOKIT THAT PENNZER DRIVER OVER THERE he can't even stay in his lane, stupid Pennzer, etc.!1!
3 Which may very well be true, but you gotta think, also, that these Bristol Kids are also a bit fucktarded because "sharp as a pistol"? What are they doing — stabbing people with their guns?
THOSE THINGS FIRE BULLETS, ya stupid fucking PENNZERS!1!
4 In fact, Teh 'Bride never uses the word "fuck". Mostly she was saying "freak" or "a-hole" or just "Stupid PENNZERS!1!".
But she was thinking "fuck".
A husband knows.