Weeast Dakota Car Games

These are games to play in your vehicle while cross country wondering.

1) Where's my finger. One player must sit in the front seat, the other in the back. The places to hide ones finger is limitless. They include in other body parts, things or on a map. Tourist brochures are especially good. "Nope wrong. My pinkie ain't in my ear. Not in the bag of Cheetoes. Or full of Black Hills gold. It is in the "Unexplainable Cosmos Mystery Area." Or is it?"

2) Hit the tumble weed. Ok so the driver tries her best to hit the fast moving dry brush. Others cheer and bet on success.

3) What do I gotta do to make this semi driver honk. Driver must pull along semi and kids do what ever it takes to illicit a honk of the air horn. 32 honks and we where in Rapid City. Truckers where hitting detours.

4) BISON! BISON! Ok there are no set rules to this game. Just yell Bison when ever you want to change the subject or get attention.

5) Wrong Song. Sing any pop song you want from any time era but change the words to cowboy lyrics. "My spurs, my spurs, my lovely little spurs. In the back and in the front. Get you love drunk on the saspirilla. Make you scream ,Make you Scream....."

6) How slow is this Dakotan. These people are over friendly and ask way to many questions. We know half this state is closed down because it is not tourist season. That is why we are here. Stop asking. We are doing our own "Minnesotans Gone Wild", video.

7) What won't these donkeys eat. Sorry you will just have to wait for the picture.

8) WWLIWD? Short for what would Laura Ingals Wilder do.

9) Get Lost. Easily played when driving on closed mountain logging trails, caves, large never ending Cabella's.

10) Name something they don't sell in Wall drug. Clearly labeled radio-active material, defibarators and live animals.

My World

I heard the crash and knew what it was immediately. After the roar, and the heavy thump, I ran into the living room and found my antique globe shattered on the wooden floor. My world in a million irreplaceable shards. So all did all I knew how to do. I followed him in the kitchen screaming like a fish monger's wife. That wasn't enough. My words and my reason and my tears were just not enough. So I took a swing at him. I smacked him full on the back of his head, right where the goose egg from last weekends tumble protruded from the back of his skull. Still not enough. I turned my back on him as to have the last say in the matter. Naturally he chased me. Hit me. Go ahead and hit me. I even curled myself into a tight ball and tucked in my chin making myself a target. Take your best shot at my back, you bastard, I'm not going to run.

But run I did. Sometimes a couple of states can make a world of difference.

It Would of Been Romantic If There Had Been Romance

There was a zing of excitement in the fresh spring air as we drove to our destination. The forty minute drive took only a blink of an eye, our conversation was that good. He played the charming tour guild for me and pointed out to me things I had never noticed much less known about. I wanted the night to last until summer .
During the show, we shared secret jokes and did not even listen to the narrative. I ate off his plate, he drank my wine. We enjoyed sharing our passion. He was the perfect gentleman.
An onlooker confided in me, "You and your husband look like you are having such a good time. It's obvious you too love each other very much." "Yes", I answer, But we are not married. Eric is my friend."

Kickin and Screaming

She fought with the phone company and had her service shut off for a week.

She battled the bulge and lay on her closet floor sobbing when she could not fit into the size 8 jeans. Then she read the tag that read, boys.

She fought the passing of time by Indian leg wressling her kids. Not only did old man time kick her ass but the laws of physics as well.

She fought back the nausea as she cleaned the puppy poo off the carpet and ending up cleaning her bathroom as well.

She fought all common sense and bought her son a trumpet.

She fought the wolf away from her door by working a sixty hour week. Where she also fought authority.

She fought the urge to laugh out loud at her kids spring concert and ended up bawling instead.

She fought with her husband and will no longer call him Goat. I will however call him Goaty Mc Goat Goat, Crusty the Goat. Grizzle Goatypants. Dusty Goat Breath. Or Bill

She fought the urge once again to run off to a far away country but booked tickets to Helsinki in July.