Day Seis y Siete

Context of the previous “Connotate this, bitch!”: When Joe and I were talking about the whole fountain/art conundrum and how hard it is as an artist to get “discovered” I said, “As with everything in Vegas, it’s all about luck.” Joe then proceeded to give me a faux-awe “Oooo,” to which I replied, “I’ve been sitting on that one for the past four days.”

So here we are now in Sunny Southern California, a virtual oasis for those who like their tans dark and their car windows tinted darker. We arrived in the late afternoon and played a little hacky-sack on a sleepy neighborhood street while we waited for my friend to come back to her house. We noticed within the first couple of minutes of being there that L.A. is a dog friendly city. Everybody and their mothers owned a dog and I think that’s something I could like in a city. It’s like if I were to put an ad in the classifieds it would read a little something like this: “20-something, medium-well to well-educated male seeking chic, outdoorsy hundreds-of-years old state for fun and maybe something more. MUST LOVE DOGS.” Disclaimer: The previous statement is in no way an admission that I have seen that chick flick. Any inklings toward that possibility should be promptly snuffed out as well as never thought of again. But anyway, they love dogs and I love them for it. We started our tour of L.A. at the Salt Creek Grille. This posh yet pleasantly casual lounge/restaurant offered live jazz music to serenade the stylish crowd as they chowed down (in a classily restrained way, of course) on food of varied styles and flavors. They had all sorts of unique and inspired creations on their menu… so I got a bacon cheeseburger. It was a great experience up until we received the bill and I upon looking at it immediately shat a brick. We then hit up the L.A. bar scene, specifically, a Mexican bar full of the sorority sister-type hordes of L.A. girls. You know the type. It seems like they’ve rehearsed the exact order they are going to stand in and it looks like they’re posing for some brochure. Something that would have the caption, “Come to L.A., have fun, and stand in order from tallest to shortest!” It almost makes you wonder how much they have to re-rehearse if one of them all of a sudden has a growth spurt. After those shenanigans, we decided to call it a night and retired to the cottage on the park. The next day we started a locals tour of L.A. We started out the day eating at this expensive-looking yet totally affordable café in Studio City. Then we drove through Hollywood checking out all the tourist staples like the Graumann’s Chinese Theatre, the Kodak Theatre, the Hollywood sign (from afar), and Mel’s Drive-In Diner. We also hiked up a local canyon (which goes by the name of Runyon) to get breathtaking views of the city. These views weren’t so much breathtaking because of what we were seeing but because of the intense smog we were inhaling. After that healthy/unhealthy hike, we drove off to Huntington Beach to add some seaside action to our road trip. That location was made up mostly of alcoholic beverages, fire pit fires, and laying on the broken glass riddled beach with a gorgeous view of oil rigs on the ocean. We stayed in a full-blown house. I mean, one with more than one bathroom, antique furniture, and a sun room. And as previously mentioned, the fire pit. This fire pit was amazing. Once we dumped a whole half a gallon of gasoline on it, it provided warmth and entertainment for hours on end. We even roasted some s’mores. Well not exactly s’mores, but possibly something more amazing then them. They consisted of mini marshmallows, and chocolate covered keebler elf cookies. We called them logansmallows after their creator. All in all, I feel we did SoCal right so here’s some other events and observations that occurred:

Another reason we say we got a locals tour of L.A. is because we spent a large part of the time in the car. Apparently, locals spend all their time in their car either stuck in traffic or making their way across the city to get to engagements and what not. That made me happy.

Joe was attacked by pelicans while he was surfing. I guess it isn’t that funny if you didn’t know that right before that he was almost hit by and old armed forces airplane that did a fly by. It still might not be funny. I guess it just makes me happy seeing Joe come close to bodily harm every now and then.

Almondwood is the worst wood to use when attempting to start and maintain a fire. That’s the kind of wood we used the second night around the fire pit. It didn’t even last when we doused it in gasoline. It was quite disheartening and we were considering taking it back to the Safeway grocery store from whence we got it. Saying something like, “This wood you sold to us is an abomination and a slap in the face to all who have no real idea how to start a fire. You should be ashamed of yourselves.”

If you ever happen by Huntington Beach, you should definitely check out Ruby’s Diner which is right at the end of the pier off the downtown area. Not only is their namesake and mascot incredibly fot, the food is great too! They have the best jalapeno jack cheese sticks around and I could stare at the placemat with a drawing of Ruby for an eternity. So what if the way she tilts her head makes it look like she has a broken neck. I would gladly put her neck brace on any day of the week.

When we were driving around the Beverly Hills neighborhood where all the stars live we tried to follow a tour bus really close so we could hear whose houses we were near.

On Mother’s Day, a group of us went to IHOP for brunch… without our mothers. It was very weird because every other table in the joint had a mother present. I almost felt like borrowing one of the mothers from another table just so we could have one at ours.

The one neat thing about the broken glass-riddled, oil rig-dotted beach we went to is that there were dolphins playing in the water literally a football field away from us. This taught me one lesson: Unlike humans, dolphins aren’t picky. Even when a patch of water is teeming with oil and broken glass, they will still play in it like the dickens.

What the hell does that saying mean, “like the dickens?”

Wahoo’s is a great place for fish tacos and a whole lot of good food at good prices.

Joe should do public service announcements for a cause that I’ve found is near and dear to his heart. It would go something like this:

“Hi! I’m Joe Dixon. You might remember me from such places as the beach, or the hospital or even your bedroom. But today I’m here to talk to you about something altogether different. When on an incline, make sure to curb your wheels and most importantly engage your parking brake. This will prevent your car from initiating any unnecessary sliding and from becoming a “runaway car.” This has been a parking brake moment brought to you by Joe Dixon. Stay Classy!”

Trivia: More than six hundred thousand Americans each year are injured on beds and chairs.

“Connotate this, bitch!”: “Why, do you want to get some wood?”

In Between the Lines 2

It truly has been awhile since I’ve written anything and I apologize to anyone out there that was yearning to hear more. Not that there really was anyone, but it’s sort of motivational to think that someone is actually reading. However, this side of the country has left me sort of speechless with its beauty.

I have to say Las Vegas was fun. I went into that city thinking that I would not have any interest in gambling, but left it $70 poorer and quite a bit drunker. I was sort of disappointed in the general lack of nudity throughout the sin city. Apparently, there has been a general effort throughout the city commissioners to divert it to more of a family attraction. I disagree in their logic, not only because I didn’t see any boobs, but also that it’s a bad business proposal. Do you think Disney would make any money if it decided to become a gambling drunkfest? Ok, well, maybe I have always wanted to see Minnie naked….

Honestly, the most amazing thing to me about Las Vegas is how well everything works. Walking throughout the casinos makes it very apparent just how many people are needed to bring the whole thing together. By the way, it is virtually impossible to walk a straight line in Vegas. No, not because you’re always drunk, but because they’ve cleverly designed all the passageways to lead visitors to the casinos and also hid the exit signs. It tricked us, but I do feel we sort of outsmarted the system. We brilliantly scoped out the 1 cent slot machines closest to the cocktail waitress entrance. Scattered throughout the casinos are entrances for the waitresses where they go and retrieve their drinks. So, we would signal a waitress down or wait in the area and then put $1 in the machine and pretend like we were seriously gambling. When, in our minds, we were just there for the top shelf liquor drinks. In reality, however, we ended up getting hooked to the machines and spent quite a bit of time trying to line up the sharks, miners, or magic carpets. We also, by the way, went to Walgreens to get cash back in order to avoid the ridiculous ATM fees at the casinos. There’s a good tip for you.

On the first night, we walked around MGM Grand in search of a cocktail waitress. We tried a few slot machines thinking that these wonderful women would suddenly appear in front of us clamoring for our drink order. However, this proved incorrect, and we were forced to search out the source of the alcohol. After getting a tip from an older woman that was holding a beer, we planned our attack on a cute Asian waitress, Arlene. I asked her if we could get a drink and once she asked us if we were going to gamble we proceeded to plant ourselves in front of the slot machine. However, in the heat of the moment, we accidentally sat in front of a 25 cent machine. These are much too high rolling for us….

After getting our amazing Gin and Tonics and Rum and Cokes, we relocated to the 1 cent machines. Once Arlene realized that we would keep asking for drinks and tipping her, she kept coming back about every 30 minutes. Eventually, she just started bringing the drinks, knowing that we would be empty. After 4 or 5, she started giving us the I-know-you’re-getting-drunk look, but still served us. I even asked her later if she was still going to serve us and she pleasantly responded in a slight accent, “I don wan get you drunk.” Finally, after 8 or 9 drinks, we decided to go in search of food. I will always wonder if Arlene was overcome with sadness when she returned to find us not there in our spots. However, if she did, it was probably because she was realizing she was out another $20 from us. Arlene, I salute you, you were a very good friend for those 6 hours I spent in front of that Shark Frenzy machine. You made losing money all that much easier.

Throughout Nevada I was awestruck with the general friendliness of the locals. Granted, we did spend a great majority of our time in a so-called “Age Restricted” area. A clever euphemism for a retirement community, I might add. We stopped at Walgreen’s to replenish the supply of bottled water and the lady there was amazingly nice. She was almost too nice. I guess I’m just used to the people in Florida.

On the way to Los Angeles, we came to the realization that we did not buy any postcards. So, as we drove along the interstate we scoured various gas stations and convenience stores in search of them. Surprisingly, it’s virtually impossible to find any outside of The Strip. We weren’t about to head back there for fear that we would lose even more money after deciding to just stop in to MGM for a few minutes. On our last stop, one woman overheard me asking about postcards and told me that she makes them and would be more than happy to give me some. All I had to do was just follow her back to her apartment, just a few blocks down the road, for these postcards. Call me skeptical, but I decided it would be best to get back on the interstate. Perhaps my dream of nudity in Las Vegas could have been fulfilled, though.

Day Cinco

Context of the previous “Connotate this, bitch!”: Self-explanatory…

VEGAS, BABY, VEGAS!!! SIN CITY!!! WHATEVER HAPPENS IN VEGAS, STAYS IN VEGAS!!! Well, that’s all well and good but what if you didn’t do anything that needs hiding and you want to tell the world how your Vegas Vacation went? I hereby waive my god-given right to “Everything that happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” That’s right I pledge a full disclosure of all that happened in Las Vegas. Of course, the worst thing we did was try to get into the Bare Pool Lounge to see some nudity (you’d be amazed how difficult it is to see naked women in Las Vegas) but I hope the stories are still somewhat entertaining. So we started out our first night with the intention to scope out the strip. Just to explore the casinos and pick the ones we wanted to hit the next night. But a simple little slot machine inside the massive rooms of the MGM Grand Hotel and Casino destroyed those plans. This slot machine was called “Frenzy Shark.” My god it was awesome!!!!! Like all slot machines, the object of this game was to match up objects to win money. As if that isn’t addicting enough, if you got 2 or more shark fins in the first four reels and the frenzy shark in the last reel, you got to meet a pleasant little shark who shares his name with the game and play a bonus round where you could rack up a lot of money if you were lucky enough (I got 5 dollars in one round). After 5 or 6 hours and 8-10 mixed drinks at this wonderful contraption, it got to the point where Joe and I had our own personal theories as to how to win the game. We could let it spin out or stop it in mid-spin or we could bet 15 lines to give us more of a chance to win and then drop down to 5 lines to mix it up a little. We were positive we had it all figured out until as with all games in Vegas, we ran out of money. So at 4pm, what began as a mission to scope out the strip, turned into an 8 hour binge drinking, gambling, sloppy mess of a night. You’re average Vegas night. At 2am, we retired to the parked car in the garage of The Mirage to sleep off a little of the liquor before driving home. Good times. We woke up today with only a small inkling of guilt and even smaller hangovers (due to the high quality of liquor used. Seriously, some of the best mixed drinks we have ever had and it was all free as long as you’re gambling!). Then we made the long trek to the Grand Canyon. Or at least tried to. After driving for close to 3 hours through desolate desert landscapes, arid mountains and down one long, unpaved off-road experience we finally made it to the gateway to The Hulapai Indian’s Grand Canyon West where the new skywalk is located. Little did we know, the cheapest package we could get that would allow us to walk this architectural wonder costs $79 per person. So once we learned of this unfortunate fact, we drove that long unpaved road back to the paved road still in the middle of nowhere and once on that, to the town of Meadview (also in the middle of nowhere). There we stopped at their restaurant and ate a hearty meal while being treated to a view of the vast valleys and mountains in the area as well as Al Sharpton defending himself on Headline News. From there, we decided to follow the road (it was called Pearce Ferry Rd.) down to where it ends on a whim and were treated to a view arguably more majestic than even the Grand Canyon Lake Mead, a jewel of shimmering water, was hidden amidst the scorching hot mountains like a pearl in an oyster. We got our first glimpse of this natural wonder from atop a nearby mountain and continued getting mesmerizing glimpses as we winded down the mountains until we came face to face with it’s sheer splendor. It truly was one of best kept secret of the natural world. After that we drove back through all the barren roads and over the Hoover Dam to the strip for another night of gambling. And once again, lost all our money. A wonderful two days in Vegas, and here’s some other things that happened and observations we had:

You can keep going back to Vegas and always find something new. That’s why there’s so many old people. If it was boring they would have stopped coming back in the 1930’s.

Why is the western part of the US so much more expansive and breathtaking than the rest of the country? It’s like a family where one kid got all the good-looking genes whilst the others look like they’re the mutant babies of Steve Buscemi and Barbara Walters.

While watching the fountain show in front of the Bellagio, Joe and I got into a conversation about the nature of art. This is a favorite pastime of mine and often causes me to be passionately belligerent when defending my points of views. We were arguing the merits or lack there of an artistic water fountain show set to music. I thought it definitely was important art because it had emotional content, told a story and had a point of view. Joe thought that although he can appreciate the talent it takes to create an installation like that, he would much rather watch humans choreographed to music because they have greater capacity for emotional expression. I explained that even if you thought the water was not an emotional representation, the music took care of that. But I think the water expresses emotion too based on the movements it executed although I’ve always been someone who read emotions in movement. Whether it be body language, a sharp change in direction of a stream of water followed by an almost lyrical loop of it, or a dead leaf lilting softly in the wind, I think they contain the capacity to be provocative and though provoking which is in of itself the nature of art. It’s not like most art today which is force fed directly to the audience. This is an art that you have to meet half way but I’d argue that it becomes more resonant that way. I feel like I represented my point of view a lot better when Joe and I were having our debate but you get the gist.

Conversation Excerpt:
Joe: I don’t know why when I see a Dodge Neon, I think Mexican.

Here’s a little piece of advice you may not know. While on our recent leg of the roadtrip we began noticing a foul smell whenever we would have the air condition on outside air. We discovered that when your grill becomes a mass cemetery for the splattered carcasses of insects, this foul smell is what results. Since they spend the vast majority of their pitiful little lives feasting on shit and death, this consequently becomes their natural odor and when there’s enough of their formless guts on your grill, that symphonic aroma infiltrates your car and causes an altogether unpleasant experience. You’ve been warned.

Trivia: In 2002, after much research, British researchers identified what they thought to be the funniest joke in the world:

A couple of New Jersey hunters are out in the woods when one of them falls to the ground. He doesn’t seem to be breathing; his eyes are rolled back in his head. The other guy whips out his cell phone and calls 911. He gasps to the operator, “I think my friend is dead, what should I do?!?!” The operator in a calm soothing voice, “Just take it easy, I can help you. For starters, I need you to make sure he’s dead.” There’s a silence on the line and then a gunshot is heard. The guy comes back on the line and says, “Okay now what?”

“Connotate this, bitch!”: “I’ve been sitting on that for the past 4 days.”

Day Cuatro

Context of the previous “Connotate this, bitch!”: While Joe and I were in Denver, we visited the 16^th street mall downtown. It’s an awesome collection of shops and restaurants that populate oddly enough, 16^th Street. This road is closed to car traffic except for hybrid buses that shuttle people back and forth along the parkway. So I observed that, “It’s so long you can ride a bus up and down it.”

We ended up staying in Richfield, UT last night because for some reason all the hotel lobbies in Salina were closed. That’s not how I would think one would make business but then again I’ve never worked in the hotel business. We’re pretty easy when it comes to what we want for our money: Two double or queen sized beds, free internet to keep up with the blog, and a nice hot breakfast and we got that again at the Quality Inn in Richfield. The guy who checked us in was a little creepy. As in, I will break into your room and kill you while you sleep creepy, but besides that the service was stellar. I only have one complaint about Richfield, UT. I seemed to be the only minority there. We decided that if I chose to move there they would probably keep me in a zoo and feed me scraps of meat much like the corned beef hash that I had today at the breakfast buffet in JB’s restaurant which was right next door. We had one regret on this leg of the trip. We missed much of the natural beauty of Utah such as more majestic mountains and the red rock formations because we were driving through at night. The good news is we picked up postcards in Richfield to show us what we missed. What else happened you ask? I’ll tell you:

We learned that a Hooter’s Girl competition is just as good as porn at 2am in Utah.

We also learned that many of the highway onramps on our trip that are pretty much in the middle of nowhere have grates across them so that curious wildlife will not mosey on to the highway to see what’s up only to see there lives flash before them instead. These grates are called “cattle guards” and everyone uses them as landmarks when giving directions…. And only them. No street names, no mileage, just cattle guards.

We’ve really encountered some interesting odors sitting in a car for 3000 miles so far. Some of them are still unexplainable today but others we have found are emitting from us. For instance, we’ve decided that the smell off our sandals could choke a cow. We’re still working on remedies for this and we think lathering them in Old Spice might do the trick.

Exit 17 on I-15 in Utah: “Chain Up Area” Anyone else think this is in bad taste considering this exit is right next to an Indian reservation and the antagonistic relations between them and the white man?

Beaver, UT- “Mountains of Fun”- So says a billboard near the city. I don’t have a dirty mind or anything, I just thought you should know.

There’s an exit on I-15 in UT that you’re supposed to take if you are “fatigued.” The first of it’s kind that we’ve seen. We were trying to envision what it must look like and we decided it probably looks like a bowling lane with those rubber bumpers on the side. You know, you still get to your destination on time AND you don’t kill anyone!

We stopped in a wonderful restaurant/bar in Glendale, AZ that was pretty much in the middle of nowhere but the food was great. And I’m pretty sure it was just called, “Restaurant-Bar.” It was a wonderful experience except when I was ridiculed by Joe and the waitress for ordering a patty melt without the grilled onions. They both thought all I did was order a hamburger. But hear me out! I see the difference between a cheeseburger and a patty melt residing in the type of bread used. A cheeseburger has a hamburger bun, a patty melt has rye sliced bread. That’s a major texture change and thus for me I think it calls for a “patty melt” order so I can get it. Of course, I guess I could order a cheeseburger on rye bread but I think that defeats the purpose of having a patty melt on the menu…. Right?

We had our first night in Las Vegas tonight and the merriment was off the hook. But I’ll save all the sordid stories for tomorrow’s entry where we will have a massive Las Vegas entry. I’ll give you a hint as to what Joe and I did… twins!!! Schwing!!!! Siamese twins…

Conversation excerpt:

Joe: I’m going to feel weird defecating there.
Me: Yeah, me too, I can picture the toilet bowl being filled with holy water. It may burn me.
Joe: Crosses imprinted on the toilet paper. I may need to poo when I get there, though.
Me: Right away?
Joe: No, not right when I get there.
Me: You just go right on the driveway. “Hey Tita Marilou and Tito Ned. That’s my friend over there shitting on your driveway”.
Joe: He was raised by wolves. Just give him a bowl of water.

Trivia: An adult sleeping with another adult in a full size bed- four feet, six inches wide, and six feet two inches long- has less personal space than a baby in a crib.

“Connotate this, bitch”: “Your banana keeps poking me.”

In Between the Lines 1

To me, the theme of this trip is to get lost. Not necessarily in the physical capacity where I don’t know my way, but more in the idea that I lose all ties to the daily monotony that has been my life for the past year. The trip is to be an adventure of epic proportions; never before have I conquered the vast open area past the Mississippi. Strangely enough, we drove over the Mississippi and I did not even notice…. Maybe that’s an indication of larger themes in my search for getting lost.

Somehow there is a true connection to driving in a car across the country and freedom. Perhaps, it goes back to the ingrained American mentality of limitless land and the idea of free range. We have driven through such varied terrain that honestly I can’t even describe the beauty of this country. On the other hand, we have driven through towns and cities that resemble any other city in this country with their gas stations lining the streets, expansive parking lots in front of WalMart, and fast food dining options. As we drove along the interstate in Tennessee, Illinois, and Missouri I constantly referred back to the idea that if I were driven here blindfolded and then asked to guess where I was, I would have no idea. I also was able to draw references to Denver and Orlando, oddly enough. However, as I sit here in the passenger seat driving through central Utah, I can’t help but utter a “wow” as we drive by the expansive nothingness and erosion rock formations. It’s truly amazing to stare out the window at 80mph and watch as the horizon slowly changes. I’m not saying that it is necessary to go to a so-called untouched land in order to feel lost, but it’s certainly much easier than dining at Burger King and shopping at Albertson’s.

As you may notice after reading this, Jon and I differ in our writing styles. However, it has worked out quite well in our travels so far. Understandably, it is only 4 days into the trip, but I don’t predict any complications. His witty comedic style bodes well with my relatively dry, logical mindset. So, don’t fret, his journal entries will continue. In trying to think about a general theme of my entries, I’ve decided to talk about some of the people that we’ve encountered along the way. Along the trip there have been people that have stuck out in my mind, for some reason or another. I’m sure they have no idea that their existence was memorable to me or that I made any sort of impact on their life.

First, there was Liza, our waitress at Denny’s in a little interstate town called Junction City, Kansas. We arrived there around 7am to her shining face. She was a short, little Asian woman with obvious experience in the restaurant business. I’d argue that she was cute too. She quickly sat us and tended to our needs, all the while joking with us and smiling. It was definitely the encounter I needed at 7 o’clock in the morning after driving straight through. I’d like to add that she was the one that offered to refill my orange juice after it obviously was just orange flavored water. After leaving I couldn’t help but think about her life. I can’t imagine Denny’s being that much of a high paying career, but I could be wrong.

The original idea for the road trip was for Jon to find a place to live in Denver, so most of the day in this city was spent searching for apartments. On one of our stops, we went to an apartment complex called The Lodge. It looked nice from the outside and was in a decent location, so we decided to give it a shot. It was just your typical cookie cutter style complex with fitness center, pool, and little 1 bedroom apartment. However, there were two things that set it apart from all the rest. First, was the fact that you could chose an accent color on one wall for free when you move in. For me, I end up painting my walls anyway and Jon felt it would be amazing to have a red wall in his room. He’s into the passion thing, I guess. The number one selling point was the rental manager, Robin, that showed us the place. It’s not that she was attractive or overly friendly or anything similar to that. It was her attitude toward the whole procedure. She had such a sarcastic, slightly bitter, hurried north eastern mentality that it drew me to her and all that she had to say. If I were moving to Denver, I’d most likely want to rent from her just to wake up in the morning say, “Hey Robin, have a fantastic day” and to eat her fresh cookies that she puts out in a little tray underneath the poster of accent color choices. While meeting with her, I did feel slightly obligated to distance myself from the whole procedure because I did not want to get the question, “So, are both are you staying in the apartment together?” It was, after all, a 1 bedroom, with two guys looking at it….

We’re now about 2 hours out of Las Vegas. Apparently, crazy things happen in Vegas. We’ll see if that holds true, but I guess “what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas….”

Day Tres

Context of the previous “Connotate this, bitch!”: Joe and I visited a pleasant little Denny’s in Junction City, Kansas and we both ordered orange juice and it’s that crappy oj from concentrate. I just noticed that his oj had much more froth than mine and felt that he needed to know that. Of course, he also got a new glass of oj too when the waitress switched to a new container of concentrate. High maintenance…

Ahhhhh Colorado, the Colorful State. It is absolutely gorgeous. The rolling hills, the majestic snow-capped mountains, the majestic not-snow-capped mountains, the mesas, the valleys, the small towns nestled in those valleys, and the cities. You know they say everyone in Colorado is fit and fot (fuckin hot) and they ain’t just whistlin’ Dixie. Everyone of every age, creed, sex and ethnicity looks like they have a billy blanks dvd on repeat in their dvd players. And they’re so nice too. I mean as long as you avoid the people in certain motels we looked into, you will spend a day in Denver participating in good conversation and witnessing random acts of kindness. I will go so far as to say Colorado has the nicest people in the country and possibly in the universe! And they’re all about good times here too. There’s a restaurant chain here called “Good Times” that as far as I can tell sells custard. Then we saw another restaurant in the mountains with the very same moniker that was a brewery and grill. What’s not to love about a place that worships good times like a secretary worships her copier? Driving through the Colorado frontier, we even came up with another name for our blog that we kind of like better but it’s too late and that is, “Silhouette Mountains in the Sky.” Now on to the day’s doings:

We pulled a stay at the Drury Inn last night in east Denver and it was friggin amazing! If you are ever in that area and need a place to stay, do yourself a favor and check into the Drury Inn. Get this: You get a free “hot” breakfast (none of that slice of bread and an apple shit), a pool and a spa, free wireless internet, free long distance for an hour and free local calls, heavenly beds, free pizza at night AND (the main selling point for our stay) 3 free cocktails with the free pizza! A Great deal and the service was great! But if great service is not your bag, you would probably enjoy the prairie dog colony that is right outside providing wonderful entertainment for adults and kids alike. I would guess that by the size of the field they performed on and the amount of them that were there, they were reenacting the battle of Gettysburg.

We discovered that in Colorado the best way to guesstimate the speed limit is to guess what you think it is and then add 5 to that. For instance, if you were on a highway and you guessed the speed limit was 70 (because that’s how much it would be in stupid Kansas) then you would just add 5 and get the speed limit on Colorado highways: 75.

Speaking of Kansas, when we saw some unneeded roadwork and lane closures on colorado’s highways, we said “Come on Colorado, Don’t pull a Kansas!”

When in a tunnel in Colorado, one will not hear an echo…

Exit 119 off I-70 in Colorado: “No Name”

Got a 4 hour oil change today in Denver. Apparently they didn’t have the oil filter since my car is a new model so that they had to scour Denver for someone who did. Meanwhile, Joe and I made like Jay and Silent Bob and hung out outside the Big O Tires walking over to 7 Eleven every now and then.

We’re not sure which is worse and perhaps you all can help us out. Kansas has road work and lane closures everywhere to fix there roads which are fine as is and not traveled often (I would think since Kansas sucks) but Utah’s roads are quite shitty and all they do is put up signs that say “Road Damage.” It’s like thanks but I just blew a tire when I ran over a pothole the size of Australia.

Conversation Excerpt:
Joe: Does it freak you out if, hypothetically sitting on a sofa with a big sliding glass door that you can’t see out of right in front of you, you see a show come on your tv that talks about serial killers who break into houses?

Me: Yes in that situation it does.

Joe: I wouldn’t even go near the sliding glass doors I would just turn the tv off and walk away without looking at the sliding glass doors.

Me: I would too.

Joe: I can see myself looking at the glass windows and suddenly seeing a face and he has a gun and shoots me through the glass.

Me: See that’s where we’re different. I picture him breaking through the sliding glass door and chasing me around with a bowie knife and stabbing me and throwing furniture and glassware at me and then kicking me as I lay on the ground bleeding to death.

We were afraid we were going to run out of gas for a hot second in the middle of nowhere in Utah and after our conversations about serial killers we were none too happy with that prospect. But all is well now. We are now about 60 miles out from Richfield, UT where we plan to spend the night.

Trivia: Volleyball is the most popular sport at nudist camps.

“Connotate this, bitch!”: “It’s so long you can ride a bus up and down it.”

Day Dos

Context of the previous “Connotate this, bitch!”: We had a mishap with the windshield wiper fluid. We turned it on to clean my gunky-ass windshield and immediately afterwards rolled down the windows. Some droplets rocketed into the car and mauled our faces and thus “Don’t swallow it, it’s poisonous” was spaketh.

Hey! You came back! Or you’re here for the first time! Or I’m still talking to myself. Anywho, it’s been about 14 hours I think since I wrote the last entry and craziness has abounded. We decided to drive straight through last night and are still going as we speak. I got about a 3 hour catnap between, around 3am and 6am this morning while joe got the shitty graveyard shift. Apparently, there was a monsoon while I was asleep, the road was poorly lit, and the lane divider lines were lacking those reflector squares. And believe me, when it comes to those little reflector squares, you don’t know what you have until they up and run away and your left swerving dangerously close to a semi truck carrying cows. But apparently we survived. Then I took over the driving at 6 am, coffee cup firmly planted in hand and we’ve made some good time since then. We’re now about 2 to 3 hours outside Denver enjoying the incredibly repetitive landscape of Kansas. Kansas now ranks high on my list of the most gouge-your-eyes-out boring states to drive through. We actually saw a tumbleweed roll across the highway. A real life tumbleweed in the most perfect state to contain them. But anyway, on with the fun and frivolity of the past 14 hours:

When you spend 6 hours driving through Kansas, you start to run out of things to talk about. It’s not so much lack of creativity on our part that causes this, but the fact that Kansas sucks the living energy out of you with ITS lack of a creative landscape. I swear it was 6 hours of overpass, gas station on the left with run down farm next door followed by miles of empty pastures over and over again. When this happens, you grasp at any conversation topic that pops into your head. So Joe posed the question: “If you lived in one of the farm houses in Kansas, would the thought cross your mind to fuck a sheep?” What started as a simple query, blossomed into a ten minute ethical and moral discussion that covered amongst other things, distance from the nearest human contact if you were to fuck this sheep, years since your last human contact, and whether if you did have kids, it would be more morally disreputable to fuck your children or to fuck a sheep. We ended on the question of whether you would use a condom. I said, “Yes, a sheepskin one just to spite it.” I blame Kansas for this regrettable decline in conversation quality and I think you should too.

Conversation Excerpt:

Joe: This atlas doesn’t have Kansas the state or Kansas the city.
Me: You mean Kansas City the city?

We’ve decided that St. Louis is overrated.

We passed a sign for a motel called the Free Breakfast Inn. What do they offer for breakfast you ask? Juice, Coffee and Toast.

Useless Trivia (In light of the disreputable conversation we carried on earlier today): A pig’s orgasm lasts 30 minutes.

Connotate this, Bitch!: Yours is a lot frothier than mine.