Oh, hello there. Welcome to DC, land of fucking quadrants. When you are intimately familiar with the New York City grid system, quadrants will blow your goddamn mind. But try to stay positive, like me. Here I am playing the role of happy-go-lucky woman whose head is not about to explode. Nope.
J, I told you, he said 7th and F! The Spy Museum is on 7th and F! I don't see any Spy Museum. God, I am hungry. And I have to pee. (Nefarious "SW" on sign overhears, and cackles. Another frustrated tourist! All in a day's work.)
Look, J! The Capitol Building. It's a magical place where bills become laws. Remember *sings* I'm just a bill, sitting up on Capitol Hill? Oh, right. *Rolls eyes* I can't believe you never saw School House Rock, J. Honestly.
Now take a picture of me, holding the Washington Monument like a sword, k? Oh man, J, this is clever. I bet no one has tried this before! Awesome.
Here we are trying to redeem ourselves, after the incredible photo a French man took of us once:
Wow, this is quite an abrupt ending to this less than stellar post! Rosie the Riveter, take us home:
3 comments:
Are you holding the SOP in that picture?
Did you see the Ruby Slippers while you were there??? - A
Yes, A. I did; and they were wondrous.
Also saw Carrie Bradshaw's computer! And Seinfeld's puffy shirt! The things that impress me.
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