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November 3, 2006

11.03.06

Tell us a road trip story.

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PILE UP

“Move over!”

“Oh god, someone’s feet stink!”

“I found the sodas under the chair, anyone want one?”

“I’ll take one!”

“Can we roll the window up? I just fixed my hair.”

“Who ate part of my sandwich?”

“The gas light looks on, is it?”

“We’re in no rush, you should slow down.”

“Yes we are! I want out of this dinky car.”

“Okay, we’re at the college…everyone out!”

All the doors swung open and out came Binkie, JoJo, Bozo, Loopy Larry, Horn Honking Harriet, Trumpet, Silly Sally, The Clunk Quartet, Wobbles, TemperTantrum Tammy, Stupor, Lunkie, Ruffie, Jingles, and so forth…

Posted by: Laieanna at November 3, 2006 9:17 AM · Permalink

Rest In Pieces:

At the ceremony this trip seemed like such a grand idea. Family get together, back in the Smokey-Mountains (Momma’s favorite place), just like when we were kids. I hadn’t seen my sisters in years, and even my brother, the only boy, warmed up to the plan.

Now, at the end of the second day on the road, tempers are raw.

‘We’re getting close”, I chatter as cheerfully as I can.

Talking about Momma has gone from joy and happy crying, to open-wounds and devastating heartache.

My brother summed it up, “Throw the fucking urn out the window – let’s go home!”

Posted by: kasac at November 3, 2006 11:19 AM · Permalink

We were three days out when that damned satellite went down. Fuckin’ zombies everywhere are making gas and rest stops a challenge, but I have to admit, this is the best road trip I’ve ever been on.

No going home; no going back to work; no going back to school.

We just keep driving.

Lindsey’s looking at me in a whole new light. She thought I was a jackass before I smashed that dead guy’s skull in with the crowbar. Saved her ass.

Wish we had guns, though.

Before we stop for gas again, we should hit a gun shop.

Posted by: PB McCoy at November 3, 2006 12:46 PM · Permalink

Two late teenagers with driving licences and a 911 Turbo from LA to Miami.

Lots of cassettes to get through the bits with country, gospel and bible-thumping only on the radio.

The only problem was who got to drive, musical tastes were shared but the budding metal DJ liked maning the tapes.

A serious diet of New Wave of British Heavy Metal and their American imitators. Some early thrash mixed with Lar's favourite Diamond Head.

It pedal to the metal and metal to the pedal all the way.

It wasn't case of fly over country but of fly through country.

Posted by: Andrew Ian Dodge at November 3, 2006 1:00 PM · Permalink