OO¬O
Oh man, let’s go.
Cancel the cable television, empty the refrigerator, tell the mail carrier to go bugger himself and let’s vacate the premises. Let’s buy a tiny trailer and pack it up and let’s get on the road and go to…where would you like to go? We’ll go there, wherever it is. We’ll go there, but we’ll stop along the way. We’ll stop to see the Largest Ball of Twine In North America, we’ll stop to see the garage where mold has formed a likeness of Donald Trump, we’ll stop and eat chicken and waffles at a volunteer fire department fund-raiser, we’ll stop and play miniature golf on a course where a seven foot chimpanzee stands atop a Dutch windmill on the 11th hole, we’ll stop and look at cows looking at us, and then we’ll go again.
Oh man, and wherever it is we’re going, when we get there we’ll drink a bottle of cheap-ass chardonnay and have wild monkey sex in the motel with the most neon and in the morning we’ll pack up and go again. We’ll travel the rocky coasts and the high desert and the winding roads of hillsides and we’ll go down the valleys and through the streams and across the ridges and we’ll just go.
And one day we’ll see a spotted dog and we’ll slow down and we’ll stop and we’ll go back and fetch him and name him Jake after Nicholson in Chinatown, and we’ll settle down in the nearest place with decent Greek food and take care of that dog, and we’ll park the trailer out back and watch the mold grow on it and hope it doesn’t look like Donald Trump.
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