In a message dated 98-09-23 10:35:42 EDT, cobmeister@zianet.com writes:
<< Well, let's see... You are somewhere's down around San Diego, no?>>
Almost. Costa Mesa is a hundred miles or so to the north of San Diego.
<<You know of course that Janet is game for any trip any time any where...
Hmmmm...>>
Geez Colin--your trip planning is almost as entertaining as your trip reports!
Who do I make the check out to, and where do I send it?
<<The two problems, as I see it, are A) getting there and 2) getting home.>>
Two solutions are A) drive the car and 2) fly home.
<<So far as getting there goes, I suspect that it would have to be a
non-stop trip as I am unsure that I can get in and out of that little
devil more than once. I supose I could stop overnight and just hunker
down in the car... It would likely be as comfortable as some of the
motels I have stayed in.>>
Oh DANG! It didn't occur to me that you wouldn't fit in the car. It is a
Midget, didn't you say? DANG!
<<Once at your place, would you serve me one of your famous beers whilst I
was still in the car? >>
Sure, I could serve you good cheap beers whilst you were still in the car.
But we'd have to get you out of it sooner or later . . . Which brings up some
on-topic stuff: What's the best way to get a Cobmeister out of a Midget?
>From the top or the bottom?
<< Then there is the problem of luggage... Since I won't have the
opportunity to change clothes betwixt here and there, I guess taking a
change of clothes would be pointless... >>
You could ship your luggage ahead in advance. The UPS drivers here all know
us really really well.
<<But I will have to have a small cooler with Vern . . . >>
BZZZZZZZZZT!!! I lied about the BYOV. We'd have lots of Vernors for you.
Lots and lots of Vernors!
<< ... Well, I'll think of something.>>
First we have to WIN the damn thing!
So what's the poop on buying the tickets?
Ramon
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