Manic Sunday, more like. F'in crazies.

Yesterday, among other bizzarities, it was snowing Dippin Dots. On May 1. Carly nearly ran outside with a bottle of Hershey's syrup.
2. Hari Krishna
My dad's post-church rant was about the multitude of shampoo bottles and razor handles in the shower. In the midst of his rant, he starts tapping his thumb and middle fingers together chanting "Hari Krishna." We eventually all join in.
3. Guy shlumped over at Target.
As we pack our loot in the trunk I spy a child (small. 2 or 3 years old, max.) spinning the wheel of a running parked car. There is a strange figure beside him that looks suspiciously... dead. I think to myself, Self, this is one of those times when you can either be a bystander or a child-saver. I choose the child, by God. I get out of the car and go up to the driver's side window and look in to see a motionless lump. So I tap on the window and the little one sees me and hides behind the seat.
Suddenly, the motionless lump looks up at me, disturber of sleep. Holy Heck, I need a new pair of underoos. "Sorry," I say, "just checking."
4 (and final). Improv show with crazy disappearing men and the stage-licker.
Brave New Workshop last night for their $1 Sunday night show during which a young lady is presented and then attacked by birthday cake. So the cake bearer cleans the stage. WITH HER TOUNGE. Oh, and three men leave during a scene and never come back.
If I knew enough Spanish to exclaim, I would say, "What kind of crap is this for a Sunday?"