Signs of life.

I've been in Idaho for only a few days now, but nonetheless, I am discovering that this may be my true second home. There are signs everywhere to prove it. Cougar Corner. No way. Now I know where I can spend my lonely Friday nights. Funny thing about this, when I did a u-turn to get back on the highway by this sign there was a group of middle-aged women pulling up on their bicycles across the street, spandex and all. I know I'm on the right path in life.
This is nothing special, except for my little sister, who now knows where she can go and buy more center pivots for herself. Not to mention jacuzzi pumps. True story. I did an 80-mile round trip drive and a 25-mile bike ride to this creek in hopes of photographing it's sign. The map said it's called Bitch Creek. Tragically, every single creek in Idaho has a sign except this one. That's what happens in a state full of easily offended Mormons. They should realize that vandalism and destruction of property is also offensive. I want my Bitch Creek sign!! Either way, knowing there is a creek for ladies like me makes up for it, sort of.
You play? I play. I think my brother is taller than your average leprechaun, but they got the hair color right, not to mention the huge nose. However, Brady's ability to grow sideburns does not match that of his cartoon self.
This is self explanatory. In Colorado, we just go to the doctor and then to the dispensary. In Idaho, you call 656-WEED, and apparently this truck shows up. Genius.
*
Post script. Blogspot is weird and I have no idea why some of the script is underlined and other parts not. Deal with it.