L + G + M + R + L

So I go to regina for the night. I'm trying to find this damn truck of my dreams (a black chevy S10 automatic extended cab circa 1998 for those who care). Bought myself a Truck Trader a few days back and realized that there's tons of trucks in regina. Figured it wouldn't hurt to go have a look, take one more sunny road trip in the little blue wagon that could. Get to town around 1pm, hit lots of car lots. Meet lots of fun old car lot men. Drive lots of fancy trucks I can't afford. Stop for steak sandwiches and beer. Drive around to some more lots, check a private sale (cb radio included!). Even make it to the Mackenzie Art Gallery (nice touch). Scam free parking for the whole night at the Casino parking lot. Go for a walk and a smoke, find a pub across from Victoria Park with picnic tables and icy cold pints and you can smoke on the patio hallelujah. Stay for three, go to leave. Run into Murray, still rolling drum, living in the Queen City these days. Go to leave again. I hear "what's Nicki doing?", turn to find big grinny Lowell standing there. Order more beer. Smoke more cigarettes. Drink more beer. Realize that I'm fantastically happy to be right where I am, and have to stop myself from telling everyone that I love them. Damn that waiter and his voodoo moves.