Hello to all my darling prairie dogs!
I’m writing this note on a paper towel from the ladies restroom at the Greyhound Bus Depot in downtown Minneapolis. I’m heading out of town today, as the homos need me in Hawaii.
I haven’t taken the bus to Hawaii in years But if anyone can get me there safely, it’ll be my friends on Greyhound, with their motto: “Pay in cash, don’t visit with the driver, ignore the smell, and leave the driving to us!” What a shame that doesn’t rhyme.
Everyone at the bus depot knows where I’m headed, as I wore my coconut bra and grass skirt, so I wouldn’t forget them. Some of you may remember that last time I went to Hawaii I wore the coconut bra with a matching coconut skirt. But wow, that was so uncomfortable to sit on those coconuts for the entire 183-hour ride.
Going to Hawaii is such an ordeal. It’s one thing to stay in the United State of America, but when you leave for Hawaii, you need to be prepared. You don’t know how those foreigners live. I’m bringing a roll of my own toilet paper.
On my last visit, I stayed at the Motel 5 in Hawaii. And right there at the hotel, they exchanged all of my American money into Hawaiian money. It pays to be a smart traveler.
But the strangest experience was to find that most of the Mexicans in Hawaii speak Japanese. That really threw me at first. But that’s always the case with the Mexicans, whether they’re from Spain or Viet Nam, once they start yakking, it’s all Greek to me.
Must run and get this in the mail, as Marilyn at the church office promised to type it and get it online right away.
XO and one to Jesus,