Right now I'm missing E3* and watching a reality TV show about a gay couple looking to buy a silo. I don't know if this me hitting rock bottom or if this is the moment that my entire life has been leading up to.
Every single person in every single bar is the exact same guy. It's like they minted them sometime in the late fifties and they accidentally broke out of their government-sponsored matrix. I don't know what it is about living in a dead-end town in the middle of nowhere interesting that just makes you want to hang out a bar a one in the afternoon. . .Oh, wait, I see it. Good work, Idaho townies.
Sorry if this is a lackluster blog entry. There's just something about sitting in a car for ten hours that makes me feel like I just got over a bought of malaria. It's nine at night and it's still light out and I want to pass right the fuck out.
I feel like I need to take a nap before I go to sleep. It's terrible.
Maybe I can score some benzadrine. This is meth country, right, so I can probably get some sweet trucker speed for a song. Maybe the cop who owns this motel will know.
We did another five hundred miles today. Tomorrow we drive up along Idaho's border with Oregon and then head east towards Montana. Hopefully my body will have adjusted to its vigorous regime of sitting down and reading Ledfeather.
Anyways, if you don't hear back from me make sure they bury me in real America.
*I did manage to notice that the next Metal Gear has STEALTH HORSE ACTION. That was a nice surprise.
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