Road to Nowhere.

I took off Saturday afternoon to head to Beaufort, where my Lads now reside at their mom's, to watch them knock around the other kids in their first football practice of of the season in full pads. Normally I take the back roads, but I thought I'd take the Interstate this time, 'cause I felt like driving fast. It turns out that I miscalculated a smidge.
Argh! Looks like there must be some sorta wreck. The traffic was at a dead stop South-bound on I-95. Maybe I can find something to amuse myself.

Let's see. What is there to read? Damn! Wish I'd've thought of that.

(Warning! The next paragraph contains offensive material. If crude stuff offends you, just skip to the paragraph after next).

At least I brought along some snacks. These are Brazil nuts, but that's not what they used to call them in the South when I was growing up there in the 1960's (if you don't already know, I ain't tellin' ya, neither. South Carolina's got enough problems without my help).

I'm on my way back to the Boro. See ya, suckas.

I already posted David Byrne's version of Road to Nowhere. If you've been paying attention, you know I could use a good editor; well, here's several: