wash your back buddy!

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well were out of the mountains. rolling down 33 i was watching all my gauges as usual, playing the "Movie Game". we tried to find the town of cuckoo, but alass it seems it was just a cross road. so with our plan to eat lunch there shot to hell cara shouted about some sign for bbq so we pulled over. met some awsome cats who ran this little bbq spot on route 33. the said they could see the missile coming from a mile or so away. so i worked a little mojo and trade a tour of the beast for a free meal. awsome bbq chili and slaw. love southern cooking. nutritional information doesnt exist. mayo is a food group. and grits come regular, creamy, and al dente. so we ate and chatted for an hour or so and pushed on.

Since we had just dry camped in the mountains, where there were no electrical or water hook-ups. just tons of natural beauty hookups. so cara more or less insisted upon trying out a proper rv park with hookups. so we were destined for ashland. one of the fine southern gentlemen from the bbq spot informed me that "some say ashland is the center of the universe" i said "you mean the nexis of the universe?" "No not the next one, the center of this one." "OK then... "

Today we recieved a insistent request to wash our feet or else. or else what i cant be sure of but im sure it includes the in human tortures of whining, pouting, cursing, eye rolling, ninja style attacks with febreeze, and disincludement for the ManVs.Food show today. So a shower i shall take. but i do so under protest. a protest most unheard or even considered a legitimate greivance.

Otherwise the trip is going well. holding the missile together with duct tape, and elbow grease. so far so good. it wasnt so far, it was just from there to here.

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