tuffghostinvincible

i made it just to the canadian side of the border into alberta. the border guard or whatever they are called decided they would stop our car, and question all of us(mum, best friend, his fiance and myself) rigorously.

american terrorist scum that we were, it turns out that my friend dutch had no dollars in his bank account, and canada doesn’t like it if you don’t have money to contribute to the economy, so he was rejected.

it also turns out that if you’ve had a DUI in america, canada doesn’t want you until it disappears from your record. and i in fact had one! because i’m a horrible bastard. (see you when i’m 27, canada)

half our trip was planned on canada. we had our birth certificates, social security cards, state identification just to ensure that we would make it.

after that they tore our entire car apart, searched through every last thing that we had packed, took my mum’s work laptop and searched through it, and even tested our lighters for THC resin. which they of course found, but canada doesn’t give a shit about that, apparently. they just like testing for it? beats me.

we ended up going to seattle instead, where they don’t care about the likes of broke drunkards breaking the lawr.

here’s a picture of us holding our formal rejection papers.

...yeah.

riding from alabama to iowa, this is the first stop out of the south where i found a gas station that had the fuckin’ internets. it made me all warm and fuzzy inside. people still stare at you, but maybe it’s just because i’m soooo good looking!

as a child, standing at the very top, looking out those windows made my stomach fall right out.

Iced Alpine Soy Mocha delicious. sometimes the bland khaki-jazz gets on my nerves, but never the cute barrista girls. and the coffee rocks.

i spent five or so years in this shit-hole, and was just in dayton this past week. it’s even more of a concrete wasteland than it was when i was in middle school.

hustlers, frat boys, louts, uber-drunks. vomit, urine, booze, garish neon lighting, super loud p.a.’s and cover bands bleeding into a cacophony wretched enough to turn anyone’s stomach. when i was a lot younger i would pick fights with bikers and frat boys and duck away, leaving the cops to clean up the mess and con too-drunk tourists for cash, maybe sweet talk shot girls out of booze. now i just stay away because i know there’s someone younger out there who’d love to take advantage of me. and even if i can keep my head on tight enough to be keen to it, i’d rather be aware of what’s going on where i can hear myself think and breath through my nose.

wow, fried dough and powdered sugar. amazing.. i wish i could accurately communicate droll sarcasm through the internets.

not incredible, not especially delicious, just remotely cute and extra touristy. 24 hour coffee in a centralized location is the only saving grace for this place.

...and powdered sugar wars.

we jumped off of the bus with our packs on our backs and started walking. the town is basically one main drag from start to finish, with a major road that intersects to what seems to be ghetto. we got a on bus, my friends dutch and jessica, and rode until we were in a more central area, checked out the museum which was mildly disappointing and then ate at the place facing the corner of the block the museum was on. eventually we made our way to the local hastings, where a kid who worked there said his girlfriend had already alerted him to our presence(probably the only back pack kids traveling through remote desert towns that week). he got us a ride back to his apartment where we found human feces on the ground, then he gave me illegal imported russian cigarettes, the filters of which were just cardboard tubes which took up 3/4ths the length of the actual smoke. the 1/4th length of tobacco left was of course like smoking seven filterless camels at once.

he then showed us his coyote tail, swords, and gave us all muscle relaxants. the kid and i walked to the grocery store, and i kept on getting these strange burrs that would poke through my shoes. we bought forties, chugged them, then we got a ride to the greyhound ate our pills and floated to texas where some asshole stole my cell phone.

the water smelled like death and looked yellow.