Friday, July 5, 2013

Hide The Silver. The Gasparro's Are Here.

Fueled by $17 dollars worth of Popeye's Fried Chicken and The National on Pandora, my husband delivered us safely to the shores of the Chesapeake Bay this morning. My husband claims that the moment I cross into Virginia I talk slower and begin dressing like Britney Spears.

Luckily we made it just in time to check the crab pots before lunch.  There's a crab race tomorrow, but it's BYOC, so we're trying to catch the winning-est looking crab before the race starts.  I've got my money on this guy.  His smile says, "winning", which means he's unaware that after the race I plan to dip his legs in butter.


  1. Are we talking Baby One More Time Britney or Gimme Some More Britney?

    1. Closer to Barefoot in Public Bathrooms Britney


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