Sunday, November 19, 2006

Road Trip

What a weekend. I had the opportunity to travel to NH the past few days and had myself a fantastical adventure. Cut Scene or Dream me dripping scaulding hot coffee in my crotch as I sit at a stop light in the-Dirt having only gotten 2hrs of sleep prior to setting out on my 5hr trip. "I knew it was going to be a Money trip from that point on." 5hrs of driving with nobody to talk to but myself and only me to keep me company (tired stupid already at 8am). I had assumed that I wouldn't be eating until late so I brought along a few Clif Bars, I enjoy them better than Power bars and apparently they like me as well. I wouldn't suggest eating anymore than one at a time, and if you can help it...try not to do it with your girl, wife or kids in a car riding with you. The little games that we play when we're tired...or alone for long periods of time can; to the unknowing passer-by, be nothing but utter delierium. Here's the game that I played on my journey thanks to the Clif Bar phenominon... for no less than 3hrs I was occupied with trying to Fart louder than the last one, all the while driving through New England, giggling at points and Gut-laughing at others....I must have been quite the strange site if you were in the car next to, or behind me. Decibles aside.... I was able to manage quite the rip in Keene NH, without blowing my a stop light with pedestrians crossing within feet of my open windows.(The little old man laughed...his wife hit him in the arm as they scurried away) Ahhhh Flatulituseses.
Prior to my deafening game of stink I was happy to leave the city, and upon entering Vt I felt at home. Not inches over the border I smelled burning woodstoves and passed Joe-Bob, Bleu, Chester and Zeb huddled around a truck bed with a prodigious Murdered Deer....Mmmmm Good eatin' . Or if'n yer name be Joe-Bob mmmmm rufied date! ( that's the short version WTF!? )
When I reached my initial destination I was able to hang out with the Undertaker, his children and briefly with the little misses...we watched family videos, played with matchbox cars...I learned the secret exit from Em's hiding spot (not quite a secret now) and I watched two children being kids in Lake Yard, with it's purple sand beach. I couldn't stay long but it was good to catch up and discuss oddities like 3 armed shirts. That And I walked away with an Original artwork wthat looks great on my refrigerator." I think that TOGETHER should be spelled TOGETHRE, next time I use a black crayola will be."
Here endeth the sane portion of the weekend.
From there I backtracked to Weare, only getting lost on dark country roads 4 times. It was more North Weare, or as the locals quip....No. Weare.(<=insert knee slapping and banjo music) I met up with J and B, on Lake Horace. we had a few cocktails... I had issue realizing how tired I was I think I was borderline shattered. We went into Concord to resturaunt named Cheers for a few more cocktails and grub. By this point I was buzzed, dizzy hungry, and tired stupid all at the same time, I ordered the Duck Lips, and why not that's a perfectly normal dish ( they even had duck sauce on the side)...and the evening progressed swimmingly. Some 30-40somethings were being elitists slowly sipping Apple-tini's at the table next to us and pulled a Mr. Pink " I don't tip because society says I have to. All right, if someone deserves a tip, if they really put forth an effort, I'll give them something a little something extra. But this tipping automatically, it's for the birds. As far as I'm concerned, they're just doing their job." Karma will get back to me on that one I'm sure, I do tip..even someone else's waitress. It almost worked today..I was only 5 numbers off for the Mega-Millions. We venured to a few pubs and ended the evening at a Place that resembled McDuff's Tavern, compete with smell, sticky floor, and JoeBob at the corner of the Bar. My hosts, aren't vampires so they desperately needed sleep by the end of our outing. I was content to just lay on the dock, under the stars, listening to the Dam overflow...reading Moby Dick. I haven't been able to sleep without sirens blaring. It was good to be outside, I had dozed for sometime out on the dock when I was startled awake [ I wouldn't have believed it if someone told me, but apparently in NH a standard critter like a porcupine often will supliment it's diet and has a very fond taste for blue, down sleeping bag.] Ever look at a porcupine close your feet? I have and it's F-in' Surreal. I had a problem.. I didn't want to piss off Mr. I got sharp pointy shit sticking out of my back, I slowly removed myself from the sleeping bag, and spent the next hour or so on the leeward side of a dock with Mr. Quilly pants on the dry side. He didn't eat much "minor damage" to my sleeping bag and when I told him in plain english that I had thumbs and was therefore able to kill him with my book mark like a Ninja SEAL he lumbered back into the woods and probably watched as I gathered my belongings and sheepishly went into the cottage to plant myself on a futon.
Saturday was a lazy day that smelled like home made meatballs, sausages, and pasta sauce simmering. I watched some TV and caught part of a discovery Channel show entitled " I shouldn't be alive". some Momos in Alaska were ice climbing in teh backcountry without a radio...and were hit by no less than 5 that point my ass would have been bruised from all the kissing goodbye. J&B threw a little dinner party for 6 people and had quite the spread, all the folks there were liberal with their inbibinization everyone got pretty toasty, and we played Jenga. jenga....yes jenga I had purchased it inbetween clubs the night prior from a Mal wart. Affirming that no job could be less crutial to the turning of the planet than stocking shelves on shelves in the shelf section of Walmart at 1am on a Friday evening, Unless you count the slug that stands by the out door eyeballing all the freaks that are leaving walmart with loaded shopping carts at 1am in the friggin morning on a Friday at Walmart.
After our binge with Hasbro... I decided that it was just about time to go for a swim. I had begun to think; that given my chance encounter the evening before, I wanted to try it out so that I would have a path of egress from the great north American sleeping bag eating porcupine. November 18th, 2006 is NOT the best time to jump into Lake Horace. It's cold.
Frozen boys cold. But suprisingly refreshing. It's nice to know that when you get out of Schenectady most bodies of water don't smell like raw sewage.
This Afternoon I had to return to work, and prior to leaving my friends' place I ate a Clif Bar, the return trip had my stomach feeling a bit off, so I created a new wasn't nearly as entertaining as Friday's Gut-laughing Extravaganza. I'm by no means a Germ-a-phobe, but don't really think the prospect of Gas station toilet squatting is at all appealing. I'll use a urinal in a public restroom... I'm not sitting on anything. I found My truck is incredibly fast when pushed to the limits of pucker. I made it home with time still remainging. The wonders of human psychology when trying not to shite themselves upon finding that no toilet paper remains at homebase was clear to me today. " I teleported to the ghetto chopper and back".
Great weekend over-all. T-minus 4 days until the reindeer games begin again.


Shaggy Bob said...

If I learned how to spell and correctly use punctuation, I could be somebody...have a family, have a future!

Kate said...

Mr. Shaggy Bob sir, if you were to remove the name of the town we live in, I'd be ever so happy to link to your blog from mine and maybe even post about it. But I'm all kinds of paranoid and freakish about privacy, I've never posted our town or last name (because there's so many Willems in NH that no one could ever figure it out)... just trying to keep the stalkers to a minimum, you know?

What am I talking about?? You don't know. You want stalkers. The more the merrier! Especially ones that have sharp pointy shit sticking out of their backs.

Shaggy Bob said...

Done and Done, Although I'm sure the various readers of your blog would ultimately find some of my future posts to be either mundane or incredibly offensive. I had tried to be vague enough, but realize that not everyone likes a good stalking.


Kate said...

Mundane and offensive... you mean, like every other blog ever written? ;)

Thanks, Bob. You're all linked and stuff.