My day started off quite beautifully, despite the insane, sleepless day and night before. New Mexico dawned with all the beauty of a typical California sunset.
In the midst of driving away from the watercolored sky, I came across a hot air balloon launch. Sadly, with all the glare and the distance of the balloons, I have no decent shots.
My frown soon turned upside down again though, when I took a potty break at quite possibly the prettiest rest stop ever.
Yes, that photo is from the side of one of the hills there. I took a power nap, parked under one of their lush trees, and then hobbled up to that rock formation to get the blood pumping.
And then I drove and drove and drove all the way to Amarillo, Texas. I scooted over to one of the few places open that late, 7 Grill&Bar, where I had some kickass smothered fries with a hot sauce that would make Legendary Jerky proud. Watch the Vimeo from that link and you'll hear me screaming like a little bitch in the background.
Anyway. Being Texas, I had to vet their fajitas. Also, I didn't realize I had gone to a steakhouse and sure as hell couldn't afford Prime Rib.
I was disappoint. Their chicken lacked citrus flavor, and was more than peppered with pepper.
All was reconciled when my new favorite waiter, Andrew, graced my table with this beauty, which he insisted was so lacking in nuts it made me look manly. I was really worried about my allergies, and he thought I was funny, because, well I am.
It's a brownie, people. A brownie so fudgy, I dry sobbed. This brownie, served in a fashion similar to the beloved Pizookie, erased the Purgatorial trials I had endured to get to this very day and place, and filled my fatass soul with happy.
It was a good day.
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