Daily Check-in #2

I talked to my Gramps on the phone today for 33 minutes - I like to be exact. I’m an accountant for statistics that don’t matter. He lives in Great Falls, Montana which is actually located in a galaxy far, far away from Los Angeles. Montana has been reopening since last week - they’re the lucky kid who got picked up by his step-dad at lunch to go to the “dentist” (Hooters happy hour...aren’t all hours at Hooters happy? Who’s the step-dad now? I’m the step-dad now *voice of the pirate from that Tom Hanks picture*)
The cool thing about Montana is that the state population is about one tenth of L.A. County but it’s area is almost as big the whole of California. That’s why people live in Montana - well, only a handful of them but they sure do love it cuz there is no one else there. Everyone gets their own mountain. Comparing Montana (why isn’t it Mountaina?) to Los Angeles is like comparing oranges to dirty syringes. Imagine if the homeless guy in Great Falls, Larry, saw the marauding packs of Walking Dead extras roaming the streets of L.A. - he would shit his pants and then promptly walk those pants to the laundry mat to be washed for free cuz he goes way back with Todd, they play golf together in the summer and bowl in the winter. Larry sleeps behind the pins in the bowling alley during the winter to stay warm - legend has it that you every pitcher of Blue Moon you can see the sparkle of his eyes, deep in the bowels of the gutter.
From gutter to gutter.