PART 2: The Ride Home from Hell
Well, for everyone who has been waiting since our last discussion, here is the closure to my trip. I have been home a full week today, and my car is still dirtier than a black teen hooker. California was amazing, that was the focus of my trip. One could aesthetically compare Southern CA to NJ/NYC easily except for their beaches, palm trees and traffic, but that would have all the So. Cal. poster children getting their panties in a ruffle. California is wonderful, the idea of warm to hot weather with low humidity creates a perfect condition to live. I like some winter however, it kind of freezes the disease and stank out of the air. The suburbs of Los Angeles are just like the suburbs of NJ, overpriced and filled with stuck up white people. Southern California is the world capital of entertainment, hands down. New York has the financial control, but LA owns what YOU listen to, watch, and read. Movies are made, songs are recorded, and books are written all here. But, celebrities don't just hang around, like you would believe. I mean, I don't recall seeing Ben Affleck or Steve Guttenberg sitting next to me, eating a Jumbo Jack, and complaining about not getting laid at 9 AM. LA has a huge gang problem, huger than NYC I believe. These fine outstanding youths grafitti everything, from elevated highway signs to your own dick if you stand around long enough. It is so bad, you see 10 year old ethnics with blood or crypt colors. Perhaps they would fight a rival gang member about who's mother fucked the most guys in the project. It would be a wasted effort, since a DNA test would prove them being brothers anyway. This lends me to think of starting my own gang, I would call it the "Meats". Sure, at first I would have to fend off some homosexual interests, but in the long run, people would see my gang's real purpose. Myself, and my gang members would just stalk people who are vegetarians. We would hide outside salad dumps and organic markets, and just as you came out with your faggy food, we would strike. WHAP, a 16 ounce New York Strip right to the face. Then, in true Silverton style, we would run away from the veggie-sissies tossing vegetables and soy products at us. On parade days we could ride into town on steer. Oh well, I digress, but if anyone wants to join the Meats, you have to go through a tough initiation. You have to swear off fruits and vegetables for a year, and poke fun at Jim Moriarity's poor choice of eating habits.
LA doesn't have any real landmarks like NY has with the statue. I mean, LA has that HOLLYWOOD sign, but that has no real meaning behind it. Legend goes out there the sign was put up to advertise real estate in a new section of town called Hollywood Land. The land fell off, and they never replaced it. Not much of a landmark, an over-hyped billboard. A more useful section of town could have been HOOKER LAND. That way, enterprising youths won't have to venture into the perils of downtown, and could fuck assured that it isn't one of those waste-of-taxpayer-money prostitution stings. Hooker Land could have drive-through blowjobs. Imagine pulling up to a speaker and ordering how long, and from what broad. The value menu would be some gay guys behind a glory hole, so if you were strapped on cash you could still get your rocks off and not be gay. For the more cash-savy, one could invest in a full evening of intercourse. By full evening, I mean foreplay, intercourse, and clean up, which for the average guy is 5 minutes. Unfortunately, we live in a society that likes to play moral police, so hard working, hopeless romantics like myself are stuck using the internet for its' only real purpose, whacking off. LA is more expensive to live than NJ. A gallon of regular gasoline was considered cheap if you could find it for $2.50/gallon. That price included a free raping in the ass however. After a week of driving, I am sure you couldn't walk very well.
With all that said, I would love the chance to live in Southern California for a little while, to expand my culturing. I still love New Jersey, and would move back here after a few years of experience and earning money. But, unlike others, I cannot up and leave for a new state without a solid job offer and place to live. It is like a completely different country out there. The first thing you have to get used to is whites are the minority. Chinks rule, you would assume you are in downtown Tokyo if one forgot that you were in Los Angeles. Chinks everywhere, talking and looking chink. And I mean they talk that shitty chink language right in your fucking ear, either to another chink of equal annoyance, or on a chinese cellular phone. I was not aware American cell phones could work in the chink language, but I am not aware of many things in life. I guess they all are calling Tokyo, which is on tomorrow's time. Maybe they are asking their fellow slants for the winning lotto numbers, since they are on the other side of the date line. That could explain how they always win the lottery. That language is so irritating, it is the kind of noise a person who has ADD would make if they were getting a blow job on coke. Chinks are so popular in LA they have their own fast food dumps. I refused to eat there, but my friend told me they serve bowls of beef with other shit. By beef, I mean shoe leather and dead cats I assume. Mix that with chinese vegetables, which would probably make American's eyes close slowly over time, and you got Chink Fast Food. Wow, imagine how bad that drive-through speaker would sound? You cannot understand a white kid on a speaker in Ohio, let alone a chink talking about chink meal deals. For an extra $0.99 you might get a fast happy ending, instead of a happy meal. When you think about it, they can keep the shitty food, that ending would make any meal happy, even if they served shit on a shingle.
Now, onto the ride home from hell. To answer all your questions; NO, I will not fly next time, save your breath and comments. I left Culver City, CA early Monday morning, with hopes to see scenic Toms River, NJ late Wednesday evening. I got about 50 miles outside of Flagstaff, AZ when I saw some smoke coming from under my vehicle. I blew this off, assuming it was some random act of the desert. About 20 miles later, I saw it, and when I stopped to get gas I saw my undercarriage soaked in tranny fluid. By tranny fluid, I mean from a transmission, not the cum from a person whom bears penis and breasts. Since I visited Flagstaff, AZ 2 years ago, I knew it was the only major city between Barstow, CA and Albuquerque, NM. I headed into town, annoyed like it was nobody's business. Found a Ford dealer, dropped off the piece of shit, which made me realize that nothing good still comes out of Detroit, and searched for a hotel and supper in a rental Ford Focus. Knowing an extended stay was possible, and most likely eminent with my luck in life, I wanted a clean and accomodating place. I found a place for $65/night which offered wireless internet, jacuzzi, and heated pool. I asked for the smoking floor, and for some sheets that had a sperm count less than mine. After a meal of Del Taco, soaking in the hot tub, and doing the ever-so-treasured "hotel jerk", off to bed I went. I awoke Tuesday morning to learn some major parts in my transmission have failed, and this is the same transmission that was rebuilt about a year ago. Good news is it was covered under warranty, bad news was the parts wouldn't get there until Thursday, and the truck would be ready Friday evening around 5PM. Back to the hotel to inform them I would be using their facilities through Friday at noon. I also had to tell the hot broad at the rental dump I would be using the Focus for another few days, and luckily the demand was low on that vehicle. The gay convention had come to town last week, so the car was mine for this week. Flagstaff is a college town, so there were at least normal looking people around, and they had all the standard retail and fast food dumps. I had a few choices here, and they were limited to seeing the Grand Canyon again, cruising the campus of Northern Arizona University in a Ford Focus looking like a child molester, hanging at the mall, or calling for escorts in the hotel room. The Grand Canyon Park System would charge me $50 to see a big hole, which I could see for free if I called someone, but we will omit her name, since I am done burning bridges. Aside from the cash, the only difference would be me putting my dick in the Grand Canyon and actually feeling something. So, I ate well and spent a lot of time at the mall. This was an old school mall, with some new floor tiles, but with mainly younger-reaching stores. I ventured down the food court, where there was a two-screen movie theater and an arcade. The movies were Capote, or Brokeback Mountain. I had no information about Capote, and I sure as shit wasn't sitting in a movie theater alone in mountain country seeing the latter film. When I walked into the arcade, I lost my mind. I even called Sir Fatness and the Pussy to tell them about the classic games they offered. I pumped $10 worth of quarters (which was all I pumped the whole trip) into Ms. Pac Man, Sega Monaco GP, yeah the sit down one with Hi & Lo gear, After Burner, Arkanoid, Lethal Enforcers, and The Simpsons. The newest game that was offered was Dance Dance Revolution, and at $0.50 a clip I was almost lured in. However, seeing me dance gives off the same element of disgust as seeing a 60 year old man doing anal on a 13 year old boy. What makes this game so popular anyway? It is a stupid game created by chinks so they can further laugh at American children. Yeah, we get it, your schools run circles around our moronic, outdated, education system, your cars run for hundreds of thousands of miles beyond our Detriot steel, and now you need to make our kids look like a bunch of faggots on speed. I am done with you chinks, go back to your cell phones, chopsticks, and paper walls. So, the rest of the time I spent eating and relaxing in the hotel room/hot tub. I watched daytime TV, and read a lot of magazines. I also smoked my share of cigars and cloves, and was not too worried about where the ashes landed. Hotels are the best for that reason alone, you do not have to give a fuck. You can spill drinks, food, ashes, cum, or whatever other fetish you are into on the sheets and carpet, and not care. Hell, you could even sleep naked and wet the bed to bring back your troubled childhood! This is why hotel sex is so popular, but yet we still get mad when the sheets can walk themselves down the laundry chute.
So, Friday night, and I am back on the road. I pull an all nighter, taking advantage of the dry weather and my awakeness. I stop for a quick half hour rest at a truck stop around 6AM. I locked my doors, but wasn't too worried. I think I am repulsive enough to turn off broads and men. Once I hit Oklahomo the ice started. I made it through that, and got into Arkansas. I stopped at a highway rest area to brush my teeth, the kind of rest area that are ripe for pedophiles to be lurking. No such luck on scoring a blow job, but the locals hanging around the men's room wondered what I was doing with a brush and a tube of paste in my mouth. I departed, and came across a place to eat a half hour later. Rumor is in Arkansas that you get a half-off supper if you can prove you have a full set of teeth, and are NOT related to anyone else in the state. Extra 20
Originally Posted: 27 February 2006
LA doesn't have any real landmarks like NY has with the statue. I mean, LA has that HOLLYWOOD sign, but that has no real meaning behind it. Legend goes out there the sign was put up to advertise real estate in a new section of town called Hollywood Land. The land fell off, and they never replaced it. Not much of a landmark, an over-hyped billboard. A more useful section of town could have been HOOKER LAND. That way, enterprising youths won't have to venture into the perils of downtown, and could fuck assured that it isn't one of those waste-of-taxpayer-money prostitution stings. Hooker Land could have drive-through blowjobs. Imagine pulling up to a speaker and ordering how long, and from what broad. The value menu would be some gay guys behind a glory hole, so if you were strapped on cash you could still get your rocks off and not be gay. For the more cash-savy, one could invest in a full evening of intercourse. By full evening, I mean foreplay, intercourse, and clean up, which for the average guy is 5 minutes. Unfortunately, we live in a society that likes to play moral police, so hard working, hopeless romantics like myself are stuck using the internet for its' only real purpose, whacking off. LA is more expensive to live than NJ. A gallon of regular gasoline was considered cheap if you could find it for $2.50/gallon. That price included a free raping in the ass however. After a week of driving, I am sure you couldn't walk very well.
With all that said, I would love the chance to live in Southern California for a little while, to expand my culturing. I still love New Jersey, and would move back here after a few years of experience and earning money. But, unlike others, I cannot up and leave for a new state without a solid job offer and place to live. It is like a completely different country out there. The first thing you have to get used to is whites are the minority. Chinks rule, you would assume you are in downtown Tokyo if one forgot that you were in Los Angeles. Chinks everywhere, talking and looking chink. And I mean they talk that shitty chink language right in your fucking ear, either to another chink of equal annoyance, or on a chinese cellular phone. I was not aware American cell phones could work in the chink language, but I am not aware of many things in life. I guess they all are calling Tokyo, which is on tomorrow's time. Maybe they are asking their fellow slants for the winning lotto numbers, since they are on the other side of the date line. That could explain how they always win the lottery. That language is so irritating, it is the kind of noise a person who has ADD would make if they were getting a blow job on coke. Chinks are so popular in LA they have their own fast food dumps. I refused to eat there, but my friend told me they serve bowls of beef with other shit. By beef, I mean shoe leather and dead cats I assume. Mix that with chinese vegetables, which would probably make American's eyes close slowly over time, and you got Chink Fast Food. Wow, imagine how bad that drive-through speaker would sound? You cannot understand a white kid on a speaker in Ohio, let alone a chink talking about chink meal deals. For an extra $0.99 you might get a fast happy ending, instead of a happy meal. When you think about it, they can keep the shitty food, that ending would make any meal happy, even if they served shit on a shingle.
Now, onto the ride home from hell. To answer all your questions; NO, I will not fly next time, save your breath and comments. I left Culver City, CA early Monday morning, with hopes to see scenic Toms River, NJ late Wednesday evening. I got about 50 miles outside of Flagstaff, AZ when I saw some smoke coming from under my vehicle. I blew this off, assuming it was some random act of the desert. About 20 miles later, I saw it, and when I stopped to get gas I saw my undercarriage soaked in tranny fluid. By tranny fluid, I mean from a transmission, not the cum from a person whom bears penis and breasts. Since I visited Flagstaff, AZ 2 years ago, I knew it was the only major city between Barstow, CA and Albuquerque, NM. I headed into town, annoyed like it was nobody's business. Found a Ford dealer, dropped off the piece of shit, which made me realize that nothing good still comes out of Detroit, and searched for a hotel and supper in a rental Ford Focus. Knowing an extended stay was possible, and most likely eminent with my luck in life, I wanted a clean and accomodating place. I found a place for $65/night which offered wireless internet, jacuzzi, and heated pool. I asked for the smoking floor, and for some sheets that had a sperm count less than mine. After a meal of Del Taco, soaking in the hot tub, and doing the ever-so-treasured "hotel jerk", off to bed I went. I awoke Tuesday morning to learn some major parts in my transmission have failed, and this is the same transmission that was rebuilt about a year ago. Good news is it was covered under warranty, bad news was the parts wouldn't get there until Thursday, and the truck would be ready Friday evening around 5PM. Back to the hotel to inform them I would be using their facilities through Friday at noon. I also had to tell the hot broad at the rental dump I would be using the Focus for another few days, and luckily the demand was low on that vehicle. The gay convention had come to town last week, so the car was mine for this week. Flagstaff is a college town, so there were at least normal looking people around, and they had all the standard retail and fast food dumps. I had a few choices here, and they were limited to seeing the Grand Canyon again, cruising the campus of Northern Arizona University in a Ford Focus looking like a child molester, hanging at the mall, or calling for escorts in the hotel room. The Grand Canyon Park System would charge me $50 to see a big hole, which I could see for free if I called someone, but we will omit her name, since I am done burning bridges. Aside from the cash, the only difference would be me putting my dick in the Grand Canyon and actually feeling something. So, I ate well and spent a lot of time at the mall. This was an old school mall, with some new floor tiles, but with mainly younger-reaching stores. I ventured down the food court, where there was a two-screen movie theater and an arcade. The movies were Capote, or Brokeback Mountain. I had no information about Capote, and I sure as shit wasn't sitting in a movie theater alone in mountain country seeing the latter film. When I walked into the arcade, I lost my mind. I even called Sir Fatness and the Pussy to tell them about the classic games they offered. I pumped $10 worth of quarters (which was all I pumped the whole trip) into Ms. Pac Man, Sega Monaco GP, yeah the sit down one with Hi & Lo gear, After Burner, Arkanoid, Lethal Enforcers, and The Simpsons. The newest game that was offered was Dance Dance Revolution, and at $0.50 a clip I was almost lured in. However, seeing me dance gives off the same element of disgust as seeing a 60 year old man doing anal on a 13 year old boy. What makes this game so popular anyway? It is a stupid game created by chinks so they can further laugh at American children. Yeah, we get it, your schools run circles around our moronic, outdated, education system, your cars run for hundreds of thousands of miles beyond our Detriot steel, and now you need to make our kids look like a bunch of faggots on speed. I am done with you chinks, go back to your cell phones, chopsticks, and paper walls. So, the rest of the time I spent eating and relaxing in the hotel room/hot tub. I watched daytime TV, and read a lot of magazines. I also smoked my share of cigars and cloves, and was not too worried about where the ashes landed. Hotels are the best for that reason alone, you do not have to give a fuck. You can spill drinks, food, ashes, cum, or whatever other fetish you are into on the sheets and carpet, and not care. Hell, you could even sleep naked and wet the bed to bring back your troubled childhood! This is why hotel sex is so popular, but yet we still get mad when the sheets can walk themselves down the laundry chute.
So, Friday night, and I am back on the road. I pull an all nighter, taking advantage of the dry weather and my awakeness. I stop for a quick half hour rest at a truck stop around 6AM. I locked my doors, but wasn't too worried. I think I am repulsive enough to turn off broads and men. Once I hit Oklahomo the ice started. I made it through that, and got into Arkansas. I stopped at a highway rest area to brush my teeth, the kind of rest area that are ripe for pedophiles to be lurking. No such luck on scoring a blow job, but the locals hanging around the men's room wondered what I was doing with a brush and a tube of paste in my mouth. I departed, and came across a place to eat a half hour later. Rumor is in Arkansas that you get a half-off supper if you can prove you have a full set of teeth, and are NOT related to anyone else in the state. Extra 20
Originally Posted: 27 February 2006
posted by Dave Lansing at
6:03 PM
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