Tuesday, November 15, 2005

From AR to AZ

What a haul. Left Arkansas this morning, now sitting less than an hour from the Arizona border in Gallup, NM, staying on the historic Route 66.

Before I begin my Eccentric Rant #2, allow me to give credit where it's due -- New Mexico is gorgeous, still. I crossed the border and chased the sunset west for an hour or so. Behind me, a huge full moon rose on a Photoshop-perfect 32-bit gradient from violet to indigo to powder-blue.

Inbetween Arkansas and Arizona was Oklahoma and.... *sigh*.... Texas.

Oklahoma decided to fulfull its stereotype by blowing 60 miles an hour due south while I was trying to drive due west. It screwed my milage horribly, and my arm hurts from correcting the steering against the vacuum created on the left side of The Truck. I soon realized that it wasn't the wind blowing -- it was Texas sucking.

I was successful in my dream of not exiting the vehicle once in all of.... *sigh*.... Texas. I filled up both me and The Truck before entering that place and drove clear across without stopping. I was only successful in holding my breath for the first 3 miles or so.

But now that I've made it, there are a few things I need to get off my mind.

Here's what everyone needs to know about Texas. The entire trip across Texas on Route 40 has zero rest stops -- only picnic areas. This is due to the fact that Texans eat their own shit as food. Although restrooms can be found in Texas, their primary function is for homosexual meetings between cowpokes, as all Texans are homosexuals.

Their women have no sex drive, of course. It's hard to maintain after the first few years of prostitution. Once they turn 14 or so, they usually start the procreation process by picking up truckers from their jobs at Hooters or Denny's, as all the Texan men are homosexuals. Their drive for children is spurred by their own laziness and desire to make money by selling the kids into Kiddie Porn studios for fun and profit.

I thought about my previous encounters with Texas law enforcement officers, and considered what I might say to one of them if I were to be stopped, but I realized nothing I could think of would be of any value. Law enforcement is a tough job -- meaning no Texans would be capable, and that it would be relegated to Mexican immigrants, few of whom speak English.

While driving across, I saw many Texans out in the fields, doing what they do best -- standing in cow shit and becoming aroused by cow vulvae. Of course, Texas men's dicks are so small they can't actually fulfill their bovine lust, and so must turn to each other for cocksucking sessions. With the looks of their women, I can almost understand their constant fascination with each other's penises. Of course, the fascination doesn't end with cows -- you might remember our Desperate Housewife (desperate for some hot Trucker flesh) first lady telling us that the Former Governor, Dubya, enjoys jacking off horses.

Within a hundred yards of the TX border in New Mexico, a sign touting a restroom and literature appeared. Literature is another thing not found in Texas, of course.

Even though I didn't stop, I did help out the poor Texans by saving my urine and bowel movements for the last week and flinging them at the picnic areas as I passed, bringing beaming smiles from all who were there. "Manna from heaven," I heard one little girl screech through laughter.

Were it not so late, I'd tell you all more about the wonderful Culture of the Lone Star state. Perhaps I'll eccentrically rant some more once I hit Tucson tomorrow afternoon/evening.

I feel better now.


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