My mom and I did about the most St. Joe/redneck thing you could do on a Sunday. We went to a chili cook-off. Now, I can't poke too much fun. I see the draw. It's a lot of really, really good chili. And that's fine. And I can't make fun of the people who go to it. But it's just not my bag or my people. Maybe when I'm 60 and turn in my ironic shirts for overalls. Maybe.
No comments:
Post a Comment