Drunken History

So we left our adorable little bungalow in T or C yesterday morning. We went down the street to the Happy Belly Deli and got ourselves a couple of Happy Belly Breakfast Burritos. What a town. We spent a lot of time in a gift shop and I couldn't buy anything for anyone as it was all made of leather and pewter and cost a million dollars each. Someday though, I'm going to have my ranch in Truth or Consequences and be able to afford that sweet cowboy gear. Melissa, C and I have a pact that whoever gets rich and buys a ranch has to hire the other two on as ranch hands. Then I'll die of lung cancer cause who doesn't want to smoke every time they're on a horse?

Then it was off through the desert to Arizona. At least that's what we though. We took a more scenic road that just happened to pass
through two sections of the Gila National Forest. It was absurd. We climbed to over 8000 ft. in these mountains covered in green. It was like the Pacific Northwest had somehow laid claim to this arid mountain in New Mexico. Above and beyond the most beautiful state in the Union. And they are in the Union, gods dammit, no matter how many confederate flags I see.

We made a stop in a town called Silver City and got Wendy's. Zagat voted Wendy's the best burger in Silver City. It was pretty great.

Then we hit Arizona, Tucson and Phoenix. Not too much fun in this state. I think we'll get some genuine desert today, but AZ whatever. Go Steelers. We did, however, eat at this bar called the Purple Turtle. Lots of karaoke by the locals who screamed cause they were horny. Oh boy Phoenix. Where are you coming from?

I didn't bring my razor because my face is still 13, but I look awesome. I can't wait to hit up the town in LA. We'll be getting there today hopefully by evening, ready to take on a Pacific sunset and some sushi, I'm thinking. Funds are still relatively concrete, except for that fucking $245 gas bill I got. What the fuck People's Gas? I'll give you some people's gas.

Superbowl Sunday with Bruce, Melissa Royston that evening, and a flight back home. Things are gonna change, people. I swear it this time. All I want to do is actual things now. I have all this time and I've only ever wallowed in it. I've wasted nearly 3 months of nearly nothing to hold me back and I've never been lazier in my life. Winter, my ass. I'd rather be cold and moving than still cold in my fucking $245 heated apartment and getting more like the fat chick I am. Yeah, I talk big, but you all can eat me. Like a frosty, not too fast or I'll give you a headache. And who fucking orders a vanilla frosty? Of course I want chocolate, you Best-Burger-in-Silver-City-flipping mother fraker.

To close, Michelle told me that Barack Obama said, "The reason I'm running for President is because I can't be Bruce Springsteen." For the country's sake, let's all hope that that doesn't apply to me just yet.