Cram Carnage

Years ago, when I lived in Greensboro, there was a Chinese food restaurant that had a huge banner out front advertising "All You Can Eat Cram Legs!" What was hilarious to me about the sign was not just that it was misspelled, but that a banner-printing company had not pointed out to their customers that the word is crab, not cram, and that the restaurant just hung it on up anyway.
And so, henceforth, I have referred to crab as "cram." So much so, that when I typed that sentence, it read "I have referred to cram as "cram." Heh.

This weekend, Jennifer, Thomas and I ventured out to the Tiki Bar in Carolina Beach in search of sun, sand, Coronas with lime, cram legs and Da Howlies, my neighbor Paul's band.

Well, it poured. But we ate cram legs anyway. Here is some carnage, courtesy of Jennifer's phone:



And here is a moist towelette (shudder):



Discussion at dinner included: how the phrase "moist towelette" is JUST SO WRONG, and how I think that the phrase "save it for later" is hilarious (causing people to stow their moist towelettes in interesting places, so as to save them for later).

When it started to pour, we collected the awesome Michelle G. and headed for our front porch, where Paul busted out his drums and we were all percussionally inclined for several glorious hours. Thomas broke out his washboard and jug and Jennifer even played a wooden frog (she kept calling it a fog) from Thailand. It was one of those blessed evenings you can't plan for, with people calling out their favorite words:

"Guantanamo Bay!"
"Rapture!"
"Quantico!"
"Mellifluous!"
"Onomatopoeic!"

Naming our dreadful band ("Sunnyland") and imagining our terrible show. "Hey," we'd say. "We're Sunnyland. And we kind of suck. But listen anyway!"

I was reminded once again of the glory of summer and good friends, the kind of friends you can just be crazy with. Thanks, guys.