Spirits, Myths, Time
From Jurgen Nation (Anastacia):
It’s…
From Jurgen Nation (Anastacia):
It’s…
Laramie, Wyoming: 20 miles. We were looking for lunch, a place to use the bathroom. The next stop was Laramie. “Isn’t this where –”, I wondered. “Yeah, I think so,” Matt said. I sat back, lost in thought until we pulled into Wendy’s, which was the nearest eatery to the highway. It looked like any other town; Wal-Mart and a lineup of fast food restaurants humping the highway, vying for attention.
Continuing my attempt to suffuse the internets with my legacy of trivial bullshit (especially bowel related) to permanently embed in the annals of the History of Internets History, I feel it behooves me to mention that there is a mischievous little imp living between my buttocks who is making life exceedingly difficult for me. Having what most observers believe to be an asshole, I should, by all accounts, be able to make poopy. Perhaps there is a kink in the hose, as it were, because as the old adage declares, “something’s rotten in my intestinal tract.”
Being that Matt is done with his doctoral defense and I am off work this week, we spent the entire day yesterday doing what any couple moving 3,000 miles in 3 weeks would do.
We watched 8 hours of the Top Chef marathon on Bravo. It may have been 9 hours; I’m not admitting to anything.