The neighbor’s goulash party was a yearly hit, but as the new guy on the block, he’d never been to it. And though he was a clothes horse—stylish, svelt and cool,
he wasn’t very good at spelling, as a rule.
So when he was invited for a goulash blast, he didn’t know the party was for a mere repast. Now here he was, dressed in his sheet, feeling pretty foolish when no other party-goers showed up looking ghoulish.
Lake Taco and Car Wash is onto a good idea. As cars wait their turn to be washed, their owners can dine in the attached palapa restaurant. They had some good offerings for the main course and if the specials of the day, seen here, didn’t tickle our palates, we could always order off the menu. We balked, however, at the dessert:
The resident friendly cat rubbed up against our legs, assuring us she could finish any dessert leftovers, but still we demurred. “Then how about the shrimp burger?” she purred. It was beef hamburgers for us, all around. We skipped dessert.