Let Us Step Out Into the Night and Pursue That Flighty Temptress, Adventure.

Suffice it to say I regard the above as words to live by. To be certain, my life is quite often devoid of adventure in the traditional sense of the word. However, I subscribe to the idea that each day can hold an adventure all its own. Not so very long ago my dear friend Kelsey--the Dagget to my Norbert--and I decided to visit the Mile High Flea Market. Advertisments would have you believe that it is the place to go if you should ever suffer the misfortune of being, "understuffed." We decided to test that theory for ourselves. We figured that if it turned out to be a bust in terms of shopping, at least we would get to eat some of that delcious looking corn on the cob that the kid in the commercial has. It is somewhat commonplace for us to get lost, and that day was no exception. We found ourselves at Water World before realizing we'd turned the wrong way coming off the highway. (If only we'd thought to "sport our swimming spoots.") When we finally did make it to the flea market, we found the offerings were not quite the bounty of bargains we had hoped for, and the corn? Unsavory to say the least--a grilled ear of corn with a wad of napkins smooshed around the husk, submerged in a vat of gooey 'butter' to be uncermoniously thrust into the next waiting hand. (By the way, thanks to my Aunt Jenny for ordering me to take hand sanitizer) Still, I wouldn't call the day a complete failure--we did snap a picture of the 'ultimullet,' and only narrowly passed up the opportunity to purchase some grillz. Perhaps our time would've been better spent at Water World, but given a time machine I wouldn't change a thing. Call me sentimental, but I take pleasure in the details, and invite you to do the same.