I got back late Friday night. Thirteen hour drive - Here's the highlights:
- Drove back a HUGE U-Haul truck that fucking chewed up gas like Godzilla chews up Tokyo. I spent nearly $500.00 on gas alone for the trip.
- Hit some snow up in the mountains. It was kinda cool - It was really bright out, but foggy with snow flying out of the halogen haze.
- I never had driven back at this time of year before, the foliage turning was really impressive in western Maryland and Pennsylvania.
- The truck only had a AM/FM radio in it - Broadcast radio really sucks in the span between Pittsburgh and Chicago: Guitar rock, Jesus, Right-Wing talk, NPR, smoove jazz, commercial rap/R&B, more Jesus, infomercials, repeat for 500 miles.
- Those killer bumps along I-88 that got me in the August trip back (apparently) weren't caused by the reciprocal action between my Jeep and the trailer I was hauling - The fucking road is just bumpy as hell. This time I almost barfed trying to go the last 20 miles in a freaking paint-can shaker.
My theory is that as soon as the Democrats took control of the state (and kinda pissed about 88 being designated the "Ronald Reagan Memorial Tollway"), decided to get their vengeance by making 88 the worst fucking road in the nation. Jesse White: "Kiss your mufflers goodbye, you Gipper-lovin' twats."
Saturday I hit D-Town and saw P-Dawg's band kick out the motherfucking jams at Otto's. They played a really good set, but could barely hear 'em over all of the crowd noise (3 people will get that joke). Later we hit the Annex and went to war on our livers - The next morning our livers went to war with us. Good times, bad hang-overs.
On Sunday EdP, P-Dawg, Old Dog, and ChrisB came out to help me unload the trailer. I love those guys. We knocked out the job just in time to catch the Bears game, drink some beer, and grill some sausages - Good times.
3 comments:
Man, am I sore after lifting those sausages and beers to my mouth. Man, I love YOU guys.
By the way, the doc says that my legs will not fall off and that he's not worried about a giant blood clot getting all up in my noodle.
We love you right back...except for the Old Dog - f'in no-liftin'-cuz-he was-hit-by-a-car motherfucker
Yeah, man. If you've got something to say, say it with sausage.
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