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What the hell is that? I bolted upright and enraged because of a God
awful racket, a loud blast of some of the worst music known, that bleeding heart country crap. Instantly, I slammed
my Walkman back into play and swigged a warm, flat Coke. Grabbing pen and paper and leaning close to the door to
perform my service to you: writing this trash.
Somewhere in West Virginia now, the new Foley demolished like the box of Charleston Chews- which begs the question
of what happened in that case as everyone else in the car claims them as nasty. Nothing else to do, not with my
head still spinning from being halfway through the March entry of Campaign Trail 72, except to watch the scenery,
the same its been for hours, mountains and trees. Then the lock on the door catches my eye. Im thinking of the
door flying open from my weight leaned against it. What would go first- this paper. Ive got the nylon or whatever-the-hell-it-is-seatbelt
holding me in, so then goes my discarded Pumas, followed by my CD player, all at 90 miles an hour in a Durango
with shoddy breaks right onto the newly paved road. When I see a half-rig driving on the side of the road next
to us, I slam the lock down hard.
You see, I am not nearly ready for a roadtrip, especially one as oft-delayed. First it was supposed to be Friday
afternoon, then night, then Saturday at dawn. We finally got off around seven or eight or so. According to the
dash-clock (I dont wear watches) its nearly two, and I need to wait for another exit sign or mile marker to give
a relative position- there we go. Five miles to Wallback, forty-one to Charlestown. We still have time. Lots of
it. With one book devoured and the new one looking like what might happen in 2004 without anyone remotely electable
this time, I am not good to go, having spent Friday night stealing from the RIAA out of spite while playing computer
games lasting well into the technically Saturday. EWR, Delta Force 2, Lemmings, anything that makes you feel like
a God. Then I spent four hours half awake and half dreaming of everything. Time spent in Kentucky wasnt part of
it, but school was. Ive got maybe less than twenty days, six in this hellhole so lets say a round week of non-consecutive
days of no requirements. And here I was thinking Id get laid this summer. Several times, and still enough time
to try for that goal, with the keyword being try, but hey, Im not too pressed on that.
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