One of the reasons I hate St. Louis so much is that every time I go there – or more accurately, go through or around the city – I get lost. The last time I had to go through Hell St. Louis, I got off on the wrong exit and got lost in the ghetto looking for a gas station while driving on fumes. On that trip I saw one of the funniest billboards ever. I was driving, cursing, crying, smoking, and trying to find my exit when I looked up and saw the St. Louis Arch on one side of the highway and a giant billboard across from it. The billboard was all black and in the center in white letters it said:

JESUS CHRIST

And I thought, “Exactly!”

That billboard was gone, but it was replaced by a smaller one. The new billboard was green, with white lettering and it said:

JESUS

Behind it, on its back side, was another billboard but I couldn’t tell what it was for because it was facing the westbound traffic. It was bigger than the Jesus board. What I could see of it made me laugh because it was a hand with the forefinger pointing up to the sky like one of those giant foam fingers. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to get a picture of it. Maybe next time. I looked for it on the way back but because I was in fucking Hell a strange city I had to pay attention to my driving instead of sticking my camera out the window. Somehow, though, I knew the giant pointing finger wasn’t going to have the same comedic effect in front of the Jesus billboard as it did behind it.

On Saturday we played trivia for charity. I think it was a community thing because J and M play regularly with a group of about ten people. It was a lot of fun and it was for a good cause. It was for a family with triplet girls who apparently had some medical bills or maybe just needed some extra help. They charge a fee per person and then they pay out the first three places. We won (of course) and the group donated the winnings back to the charity. One of the categories was music and I came up with the save of the night.

The question was: What song has the lyrics “Mirror queen, mannequin, rhythm of love. Sweet dreams, saccharine, loosen up.” Name the song and the band.

Everyone at the table looked confused. Then it hit me. Pour Some Sugar on Me! That’s what those words are! For years and years I couldn’t understand that verse and it clicked with me at just the right moment. Victory! After the game, one of the women asked me if I listened to “that heavy metal music” and I sheepishly admitted that I do. Then she asked me if I like gangsta rap and looked relieved when I said no. I almost told her I like Eminem but I didn’t want to lose the few points I’d just gained.

On the way to the trivia event, we stopped to pick up a pizza. J started to get out of the car and MoC said, “No, I’ll get it.” J hopped out and ran in and MoC opened the door and strolled after her. MoC doesn’t run – ever. I really wanted to see a chick fight, but I know what MoC is capable of and I feared for J’s dignity. It’s embarrassing to get your ass kicked by MoC. Ask me. When they came back to the car, I asked who won.

MoC: I won. You wouldn’t really bet against me, would you?
Me: No.
MoC: I didn’t think you’d be that stupid.

And later at the trivia event, they announced a door prize of around $500. I leaned over to MoC (who had the tickets) and said: Have I told you lately you’re my favorite?
MoC: Have I told you lately you’re adopted?

I can’t win. But she didn’t win the door prize, either. The person who won it donated it back to the cause, which I think was pretty cool.

I got to see J’s daughters for the first time in … man, it has to be ten years. It shouldn’t be so long. It’s kind of sad how families drift apart and don’t stay in touch. There’s always something else to do or somewhere else to be … “and then one day you find ten years have got behind you. No one told you when to run. You missed the starting gun.”
(Just thought I would throw in a little more music trivia.)

On the way home, I kept asking MoC if she wanted to go to the different cities I saw on the road signs. She turned down Memphis and Chicago. As we were closing in on MU (the University of Missouri, for all foreigners and people living in Kansas, which is pretty much the same thing) I pointed at the sign and said, “Do you want to go to MU?”

MoC didn’t miss a beat. “Isn’t it too late to enroll?”

Yeah. It was that kind of weekend.