There are 406 pictures from my weekend in Charleston.
About 385 of those pictures are of buildings and food and trees and the back of a mule’s head.
I told you so.
Having just spent way too much time and hours I could have been cleaning uploading 406 pictures to Flickr, I’m reluctant to spend one more minute recapping a weekend road trip that is a week old already. I mean, I might as well tell you about my Christmas at this point! Right?
And yet, it is in the blogger code. You cannot go away for a weekend with another blogger and not give at least some kind of a recap on your blog. True, most bloggers delight in the endless amounts of blog fodder that can be gleamed from 12 hours in a convertible and half a jug of vodka consumed on a back patio – but most bloggers are clearly not as lazy.
Most bloggers also make it a point to avoid rambling.
ANYway, I tell you all that to tell you this:
Here’s your freaking recap of my weekend in Charleston. Sorry I couldn’t take the time to be mildly entertaining.
We call this “Britt drove”.
Alternate titles are “Becky said after the fact that Britt did not drive well, but Britt would like to point out that we are alive” and “I swear to God woman we are FINE!”
We call this “Guess Who’s Not In Charleston?”
Alternate titles are “this picture would be cooler if I had longer arms and “no one will die if we don’t make it to Charleston at a certain time. Seriously. Breathe into this bag, Britt.”
The coolest part about this trip for me was getting to make it up as we went along. I mean, once I got past the convulsions, then it was pretty cool. About two hours into our drive we started to see signs for. We realized that neither of us had ever been to Savannah before and so why the hell not?
We drove 30 miles out of the way to have lunch on River Street in Savannah. We were in town just long enough for Becky to develop a thick Southern accent.
We call this “And already we’re spending money”.
Alternate titles include “ahhh, thank yew, ma’am” and “we have GOT to come back to Savannah.”
We cal this picture “South Carolina looks like it might be a shit hole”.
Alternate titles are “this place better not suck, Becky. Seriously.” and “do you think we could just Priceline a hotel in Savannah?”
We call this “how many roads can we name 17 in the general Charleston, South Carolina area.”
Alternate titles are “Three?!?! Are you fucking kidding me?!?!” and “What kind of backwards ass people name THREE SEPARATE ROADS the same damn thing?!?!”
We call this “Aura Lee”
You may also see it referenced as “thank you so much for letting us stay at your place for free” and “we also appreciate the free booze” and “I cannot BELIEVE you know Prince!”
Also in contention was “you know, maybe Charleston wasn’t such a bad idea after all”.
We call this “Becky and Britt have a thing for carriage rides“.
Alternate titles are “so, we took a ride with a mule around downtown Charleston” and “look, I have a format here now, I’m just going to run with it.”
We call this “Shopping in the Old Market”.
Alternate titles are “I didn’t even buy this hat, but even I know this is a cute picture. Shameless!” and “I did, however, buy a really cute hat. But not this one.”
We call this “Britt tries fried oysters”.
You may also call it “no, really, you should have some. They are fantastic.”
OR, “the waitress who told me this was her favorite food is going to hell for being a lying whore.”
We call this “Becky made Britt go to a black tie Chamber of Commerce dinner in some podunk town outside of Charleston.”
It’s part of series:
“I can totally do Blue Steel!”
“Convincing Old Scared Southern Men To Take Their Pictures With Strangers”
“You can tell I’m sober because I’m taking a picture of myself in the bathroom mirror.”
The rest of the pictures, should you be so inclined and/or have absolutely nothing better going on today, can be found here.