Look How Hip We Are: Volume 1

We were having our typical Friday night. Peeling myself off the couch from two hours of TV watching, I tried to convince Derrel, again, that 10 o' clock is an acceptable time to go to bed, even if it is Friday.

That's when Derrel suggested going downtown to the late-night hot dog stand.

When in Rome...



And, in classic Ebert fashion, we went to hang with the hipsters...in our flannel pajamas. One step at a time.

Then, to add insult to Polish dog injury, we did it again on Saturday night, only this time, I opted to try some frozen yogurt from Red Berry instead. It tasted...a little different. A little...nasty, actually.
Derrel: "What is that taste?"
Nicole: "I don't know, organic?"
Derrel: "Yeah, that's disgusting."

Look here, hippies, you keep your earth-kissing, tree-embracing fare away from us. We'll take our food processed please (and if you could stuff it in a casing and only sell it late at night, that'd be great).