The Quest for Toboggans has taken a slight, twenty-four hour and counting, hiatus as the intrepid Comma Clan find themselves indefinitely embedded within the Las Vegas Airport
Although the structure itself looks as if it escaped from a science fiction adventure, the experience so far seems to have been narrated by William Gibson rather than Isaac Asimov.
In fact, it is quite possible that cybernetically enhanced Yakuza enforcers are moving in on us at this very moment.
Either that or some badly dressed tourists.
I sense the hand of Doctor Harold Toboggans at work here.
Does anyone have a private jet I could borrow? A pilot would be good too.
——-
Help.
I’ll fly the plane Brent.
How hard could it be, after all?
Dude, you’re in Vegas.
Let it all ride on red, then by your own darn jet.
You must be horribly distraught and distracted Brent.
Imagine posting such a picture of yourself where I can download it.
(At least the photoshop work will be easy.)
I have a paddle raft, it looks like a swan, if you go fast enough you might take off.
Home at last.
Glad everyone made it back safe, sound, & scruffy.
Thanks Debbie, I am too. Although I’m surprised we’re be back as sound as we are.
After listening to my kids all week, I wouldn’t have thought they had any noise left to return with.
Ah, the joys of vacation.
Really like the scruffy stubble look – the slight gray in there lends a tad of distinguish-icity? distinguish-idness? distinguish-ishiness?
Makes you look old.
In a good way.
My family seems to think it looks old in an old way.
They made no secret of it.
Thank God he shaved!
There’s just no appreciation of old fashioned manliness anymore. (sigh)
Nice pictures. The airport really looks like something out of a sci-fi movie.
I know, I was waiting for some kind of shuttle to fly out of there.
I Like the pictures too. Glad that you are home at last hehehe!
Thank you Mark. Glad to be home. Even if it is just a swamp-bound shack.