On the Road

Hello world,

Today finds me off on a wild adventure with a guy I barely know from college. Brad, or Bruce or Bryan. Greg Strafford. Dang! I was certain I had it at least in the ball park. So, in honor of my birthday {it already passed, I’m-older anyways.}and he offered and honestly, it’s good I’m not school or have employment or I’d say this is out of the question. But since neither is really an impediment just now I thought why not? So here we go, off on some oddball quest with a guy I barely even know. Sounds fun right? Here we go!

Well, I should probably also mention know that Greg has a ridiculously huge butt truck, a re-po monster truck. There’s story there but another time. It’s my turn in the spotlight. Always, I almost pulled a hamstring climbing in to the dang thing but no worries because I fully intend wreak my horrible vengeance if needed but thankfully {him too}I didn’t. I vaguely feel bad about not being able to take Esther along. A long haired red wiener dog {dachshund to be exact.}

But she’s seven now and her little stubby legs and this vehicle spell disaster. And I’m not exactly rolling in dough just now. Luckily though, my mom was more than happy to dog sit her grand doggie and we were off. My little furry angel looking real out before mom carried her inside. But that’s a worry for another time. We’re headed for adventure and excitement now.

Which apparently didn’t last outside the city limit. The dang fool forgot to gas up before dragging me along on this quest of his. Figures. I gave him $20 to make it happen. And get me a small cherry slushy since I’m stuck out here anyway.

Waiting for him, I got out to stretch my legs. I met a gentleman while doing so. Garry Lung, was his name. He was a nice man. Met him and his wife as they headed back to their truck. Garry was in a wheel chair. He had enlisted ten years ago and when he’d barely even set foot in enemy territory, BLAM! Got his damn leg blown off just below the knee.

I told myself not to stare as that’s horribly rude, but he didn’t seem too offended. He’d gotten used to over the years and met a cute nurse besides who he later married. Chloe saw Garry and it was all over for her. Garry was the man of her dreams. They couldn’t be happier. I was glad to see a couple able to mount that hurdle together. It made me hopeful there was someone like that out there for me. Luckily enough, genius came back, and we were off once again.

Being the little boy, he is, his lifelong dream it seemed was to take a pic under giant Santa in Alaska. It seems harmless enough and I remember the joy I felt growing up when Christmas came around, so I guess I could offer him that much. But that’s far off from where he wants to go. We’d have to take a plane to get there.

I told him, so long as we were dreaming, I looked up Salvation Mountain in Cali & honestly it looks like something an artist threw in but in real life. It’s so artistic and it’s real! I had to make it a stop if we were really doing this. I don’t care how but we must! So long as we avoid the variable you-know what that state has become. If we can avoid the filth, then it should be a pleasant experience. God, my inner child just wants to run around all crazy and just be covered in sand by the end of it. Greg said he’d do his best to make it happen.

https://www.bing.com/images/search?view=detailV2&ccid=GH5lpefH&id=04F732C85004AF...

He said he’d been to the Grand Canyon before when he was nine or maybe twelve. But he was too nervous to go by the glass opening you investigate before plunging to your death. I told hld.im the canyon sounded swell. But he could hurtle toward death on his own. I wouldn’t be joining him. He just smiled.

Since we were in the area, we thought it only fair to take in the local sights. Which somehow found me, taking a picture with this goo by the world’s biggest chicken wing. I love you Fl. And of course, the only sane thing to do after was to charge into Georgia to see that statue that looks like a peanut that’s meant to be Jimmy Carter. Liked the peanut better than the chicken wing to be honest. Some things you just can’t make up. That’s why I can appreciate these sites the south has to offer. I’m sure Greg that got a kick out of it to say the least.

Growing up with beagles, we had to make a stop in Idaho to see the giant beagle. I think that’s mandatory of anyone that had beagles. Greg didn’t mind. He had a Rottweiler, Daisy. He had to leave behind since the last girl he had got nailed when Daisy was less than amused. We were both leaving our furry babies behind.

He also asked that since we were of that mind, if we might visit the largest catsup bottle. Well, why not? I told him if it rocked his boat, I wouldn’t mind. But we’d also have to visit the world largest twine ball. Thank you, Kansas and Illinois, for keeping it classy. As well as satisfying your wild tourists. To be honest, the twine ball looked sort like a wasp nest. Dad wouldn’t like that.

And of course, how could we pass up this little beauty in Montana? We couldn’t obviously. Aunt Margie would be so proud. And could this trip be complete without seeing the largest ball of stamps for ourselves? Doubtful. Looks like a blazing sun. It’s kind of cool. God bless Nebraska.

https://www.bing.com/images/search?view=detailV2&ccid=xn9f1J3G&id=53D66605019FBD...