The start of the trip. This interchange, near where I work, has about a half dozen signs identifying it as the Chuck Mattei Interchange. I have no idea why, as no one at all refers to it by this name. Still, I hope this fulfilled his dreams. I picture him as a young child, dreaming of the future, and when someone would ask him what he wanted to be when he grew up, he would answer, "Someday I'm going to have an interchange named after me!" And now, years later, that dream has come true. Or else Chuck Mattei is just an ego-driven blowhard who likes to see his name on things and lacks the clout of a Donald Trump.

I attended Martin L. Mattei Middle School, which I think, in the ongoing tradition (at least locally) of giving things unnecessarily long and complicated names, is currently called the Martin L. Mattei Intermediate Center And Educational Complex. I found myself wondering at one point if Chuck and Martin were related, but realized I didn't care.

Interstate 81 North is to the left. Interstate 81 South is also to the left. The one you can't really see, which I think is for Interstate 81 East, also points to the left.

I bet this isn't nearly as regal and important as it sounds.

I assume the Schuylkill Highridge Business Park consists entirely of this one tower, which I expect gives it one more impressive Interstate-visible tower than the Greater Hazleton Chamber Of Commerce Beltway.

I thought this might be a mushroom cloud, but it turns out it's only cumulus.

Harrisburg has lots of bridges, all in a row, which is better, I suppose, than having one single bridge twenty lanes wide.

Our happy host. She has willingly allowed numerous Loathers to visit her all at once without so much as a cover charge, two years in a row. She is clinically insane, and we are all grateful.

Other than hating people and attention, this dog was very popular.

Just because we're all wearing the same shirt doesn't mean we're tourists. I wasn't wearing this shirt when I showed up, but they made me change so that I would be just as original as everyone else. My eyes are a little wide here, but at least they're open.

For those with an eye for details, please note the following: PinkLady has one hand by my side--she's holding the bottle that appears to be growing out of my hip--and she has her other hand on Roux's shoulder. Yes, that's her hand, not mine.

I love my new camera. It's awesome. The flash lights up the night like a supernova. I fear this may be why, as much as people love my photosets, they are less and less inclined to tolerate me taking pictures of them. For some odd reason, people don't appreciate being blinded for half an hour just for the opportunity to be made fun of by me in a caption. Go figure.

I like how you can see the distortion from the heat rising from the fire on the left side, by the shed.

Speaking of fire, we sacrificed an armidillo. I know it doesn't look that impressive with the flash on, because the fire is barely visible, but trust me, that thing was caught in flames continuously, and, judging by how long it lasted, it was made of asbestos.

See? The thing was being torched. I figure we'll escalate what we burn each year. Sparemeister suggested a llama next, continuing the trend of only burning things with a double L. I promptly suggested Christopher Lloyd for Roux B Q 4, assuming she's crazy enough to keep doing this each year.

It did eventually fall. It was, I am told, a four alarmidillo blaze. (Don't blame me. I didn't come up with that one. And I am still kicking myself for it.)

He came up with it. Him! Blame him!

I decided to see if my camera flash was powerful enough to light up the night sky. I was astonished to discover that it is. For those who remember my photos from last year, I regretfully inform you that this year I was not directly under the brightest star in the sky. In fact, as you can see, there weren't really any stars visible. (That is my story and I'm sticking to it.)

Roux gives MrGreenSmiling a tarot reading that requires half the deck. I think it would be easier to use the entire deck, because you could then use the same reading for everyone, because everyone would have the same cards. It turns out that people do not appreciate my brainstorms.

I wonder how many cards involving fire would turn up in the reading if Roux did one for Christopher Lloyd.

People playing Munchkin, while one person reads the directions in the foolish belief that this will actually help her understand what's going on.

PinkLady and Roux share a hug, while Sparemeister, um, I'm not sure, but frankly, he's looked better. Let me see if I took a better picture of him.

Nope.

I don't know what's better, the picture we tried to take originally, or the absolutely perfect way she stepped in front of us. You couldn't stage that better.

I am not Ceiling Mariachi.

Ceiling Mariachi has less hair.

Changing clothes just because it's another day is for losers.

"Jesus Tap Dancing Christ, is Varjak still taking pictures?" To be honest, I was a bit worn out and trying to see how many pictures I could take without leaving the couch. I found the answer is: a lot, but they tend to be very repititious.

Our host prepares breakfast. She seemed quite chipper considering the amount of alcohol we had crashed through the night before. She apparently finds this fun. She is still clinically insane.

This picture is not included because Roux told me I'm not allowed to use it.

PinkLady's oldest present daughter--I've coined her T-Bor--wanted to take a picture of us. It came out quite well. I credit the Awesome Quotient of my camera.

There was, of course, Guitar Hero. It was more visible than this in person, but my camera doesn't take pictures of TV screens well.

The Guitar Gurus.

Also there was some of this.

Me with my hair tucked into my baseball cap. Every now and then I see a picture of myself that makes me realize I'm not fifteen years old anymore, and something about this one had that impact on me.

Roux and T-Bor were dressed the same. I took a picture of them, while MrGreenSmiling watches and PinkLady avoids appearing in the photo by shrewdly employing the "If I can't see you, you can't see me" defense.

See, they had more or less the same pants, too. Roux made me take this picture because the first one didn't make that detail clear. Really.

And with that, we hit the road again. PinkLady gave MrsGreenSmiling a ride, while I drove off on my own, leaving me free to safely take pictures while driving.

Pictures like this, for instance. As I type this, the image above is my desktop image.

Old people with silly hats and a vanity license plate on a Sunday drive.

Visit Pennsylvania's picturesque state capital, Harrisburg, and see the scenic power distribution infrastructure.

Allentown is 73 miles from here. Hazleton is 74 miles from here. It doesn't take a genius to tell that Allentown and Hazleton are one mile apart. It's basic math, people!

And the sun sets on yet another overhyped Varjak photoset. Thank you all.