I mean, who can blame him? Rocks are rock-solid. Rocks are rock stars. Rocks rock. Rocks rock on.
Rocks are solid like a rock.
You know who else loves rocks? And whom Mistah somehow shanghaied into coming over on Sunday to help him?
A dumptruck full of rocks is a whole lotta rocks.
Remember Louis, from our boulders?
I love our boulders.
I also love a dump truck.
And . . . Boom.
I rode my bike over to join the fellas for their second run . . .
I call this one: "The Rocks, the Magnolia, the Fellas, and Me."
Back home during the second unload I got distracted by all the things that Sunday wanted me to do, but the second load got unloaded via wheelbarrow, weeds got pulled, beers got drunk, burritos got inhaled, Louis went home to his wife and his life, rain fell and fell and fell, temperatures dropped, and we were left with . . .