Every single time Mister Cupcake and I ride our bikes back into the farthest reaches of Sycamore Canyon I swear to myself I’ll find these three gorgeous broads and every single time I come within an inch of being heartbroken because I can’t find them—until the very last minute, when I do.
A photograph doesn’t capture their scalawag, brazen quality, really and words can’t describe what it’s like to be near the three of them except for sharing the fact that the middle dame, I’m convinced, is related to Phyllis Diller and the other two lookers are her snappy sidekicks.
I could swear, when I ride past them, I can hear them laughing their asses off, cracking jokes and making the world a better place.
Here’s To a Good Guffaw,
Sara the Snort Giggler