My back yard is super ghetto. It’s more of a parking lot than a back yard. A gravel one. With a big ol’ broken down white cube truck in the back corner.

Chase, ever the optimist, refuses to believe that our yard is just a parking lot and has been looking for excuses to have a party back there (I suspect he wants to be closer to the BBQ – if he could sleep with that thing, he would). At 11 o’clock last night, we were behind the house making burgers and hanging out on the gravel like hillbillies, discussing why it would be wiser to host our Canada Day party in the park next door (where they have tables and GRASS) instead of the back “yard”. Chase had  set up one of those big yellow work lamps to shine through our bathroom window into the parking lot. I was admiring the way the light was reflecting off of the truck when it hit me; WHITE TRASH DRIVE-IN THEATRE!!

As soon as we catch up on all of our bills, we are totally buying a (very cheap) projector. We’re thinking about doing a Friday night movie shindig every week, complete with pop corn, soft drinks and no-name hotdogs (for that extra honky flair). BYOLC (bring your own lawn chair).


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