Scooters, vacation, fall

About five minutes ago, I was reading an article about the terrorist prison located at Guantanamo Bay which is on Cuba. I read about 2 or 3 lines when I realized I was probably a Scientologist. I stopped reading about Guantanamo and went to some Scientology sites and eventually I got bored so I found myself on IMDB comparing Tom Cruise films with the career work of Robin Williams. The results are inconclusive, but I sure am thirsty.

I made a rather absurd journey last night, I drove a couple of hours in one direction to get there, park, honk the horn, throw a snowball at a meter reader, then turned around, only to get lost and tired and be forced to buy coffee at midnight from a Roy Roger's that was located in a New Jersey Turnpike rest area. Once buying the coffee and pretending I had 3 chicken tenders instead of 5 (a 2 dollar difference in price), I ran as fast as I could because I really wanted to get back to the car because the alternative radio station that I was listening to, promised a new Modest Mouse song. As soon as I got into the car, the Breaking 4 Benjamin song finished, and the radio DJ says OK, new Modest Mouse, so I get excited and try to increase the RPMs, but unfortunately the song (which was called Dashboard) was absolutely terrible. The coffee was completely undrinkable but I drank it anyway because it gave me something to do while driving because it was too dark to read ESPN Magazine.

It's only about 9 months until Thanksgiving, and I'm not even close to being prepared. I think I kind of want to go out and hunt my turkey this year with a crossbow, but I'm not sure what a good brand of crossbow is. I never killed a turkey in my life, even though I have tried on more than one occassion, but I remember being about 12 or so, and Ladybug, my pacifist labrador retriever, became an anti-pacifist, and jumped through the back porch window and ran right for my neighbor's chicken coup. Mom wasn't home, it was just me and my older sister, and we both grabbed brooms and just started screaming and ran after the once pacifist runt as she was mauling chicken after chicken. When we got there, I yelled as loud as I could "This is not freedom" and Ladybug stopped cracking gizzards and put her tail between her legs and went back to her cage. All but 3 of the Vela's chickens were dead. I went to pick up one and realized I was holding warm chicken intestines in my hands. I don't know how I was goign to explain this to the Velas.

We used to rake the leaves into giant piles and we would then run full speed into them and get covered with female deer (and dog) ticks, hoping to become weak.

The coffee gave me heartburn, which helped me stay awake.