Into Nevada, The Orchards and I took the scenic route to Reno. Crooning to rusty old Johnny Cash, we entered the gate into Bodie. An and actual Ghost town/tourist attraction that once was a genuine wild west frontier town. It was after hours, we entered anyway. How can you live with yourself knowing you could have seen a ghost town? As The Sloth was parking the car a meaty looking Sheriff with a crew cut and a big gun came out from his shack. He took ages to reach the car as he was attempting to maintain his 5 angry german shepards and he kept getting tangled in their leads. He was livid that that someone would ignore his nice signs. Meatman advised us that "you had better boogie on out of here" and that we were 'lucky' we could leave without a citation. What is that?
Back on the road again I was pleased with my virgin stirring of the long arm of the law in the good o'l USA. In Reno we stayed in a Casino on the 40th floor. Twas Mmtton dressed and muttony mutton. The place was huge, it had its own tram system that Sloth and I only used once. It was all show, quicker to walk. You can smoke inside and get as drunk as you want and curse! Sloth and I sat and sipped our brews on guard for potential gang bangs. Present to unspoken fact that this really is a soulless place. The windows are bolted tightly shut in our ivory tower bedroom. So what if I want to end it all in Reno? If we lose all our money at least reserve us the dignity to jump out of your windows. We've rented them fair and square.
The Orchards opted for the usual Burger King vegan 'options'. We thundered through Oregon and laughed at the new accent. Rolling into late night Portland for a hot curry and a cheap hotel room with The Fruit Pickers. I want to come back through Portland on my way to Mexico to see some good bands, drink coffee in a trendy manner and watch hipsters self-consciously ride bikes. We ate out of Petrol stations and shitty diners. I try not to eat hamburgers as a kind of personal sentiment of self-respect. In America this has a jarring effect of your culinary freedoms. It's like having a pervasive, lifestyle defining allergy! Freedom... The freedom to forcibly stuff hamburgers into the minds and throats of we the people. Through Washington state and into the end of the line, Port Angeles. I took some fabulous in-car snaps of some Indian Casinos and reservations in Cherokee country. Then a ferry to Canada, a new mode of transport, exciting! On the ferry we bought some nice duty-free rum, sat, sipped and watched the two American speed boats with mounted machine guns chauffeur us out of the land of the free.
America was amazing, the average Joe always impressed me with their hospitality and generosity. But in the official sphere, it went off the rails long ago. Terror runs through the once bold Maverick's veins. Even the Sloth and I are suspects of an attack. Unprovoked we could berserk and cracka bottle of captain morgans private blend on a custom officers forehead . Back in the Orachardmover, the Sloth introduced me to his new home. Victoria, British Columbia. I liked it there, girls would comment on my exotic accent. We picked up the long awaited Hannah Orchard at the ferry the next day. Peta and I observed the belated reunion. The Orchard had grown. Mini Orchard had come from Hawaii and would feel the cold. I understood, feeling a little ripped off too. I imagined a sundreched beerfest on a rooftop in Melbourne somewhere, then put my gloves back on. Of the few days I spent in the abode of the Sloth we drove to a nearby mountain to slide around on snowboard and i uncharacteristically smoked the weed. Had to, you can't turn down vodka in Russia and you can't offend a proud British Colombian when he hands you that burning BC bud.
I had a great time In Canada, even bought a flag (a novelty one that some smartarse had made with a weed leaf in place of a maple). I was keen to head south even if it meant being alone for Christmas in a few days. The Sloth chofured me back to the ferry and I would soon be going it alone back down the west coast. We got sloppy about the amazing time and in turn missed the ferry. Thanks for reading guys. I know this one took a little while, so deal with it. Ther are far better blogs to be reading anyway. So... Peta receives the quote of Victoria. Driving through the downtown and looking out the window, Peta and I noticed a young beggar, appeared strangely sharp and had Orlando Blooms moustache. Peta looked to me "Will, that guy is way too attractive to be homeless"
Back on the road again I was pleased with my virgin stirring of the long arm of the law in the good o'l USA. In Reno we stayed in a Casino on the 40th floor. Twas Mmtton dressed and muttony mutton. The place was huge, it had its own tram system that Sloth and I only used once. It was all show, quicker to walk. You can smoke inside and get as drunk as you want and curse! Sloth and I sat and sipped our brews on guard for potential gang bangs. Present to unspoken fact that this really is a soulless place. The windows are bolted tightly shut in our ivory tower bedroom. So what if I want to end it all in Reno? If we lose all our money at least reserve us the dignity to jump out of your windows. We've rented them fair and square.
The Orchards opted for the usual Burger King vegan 'options'. We thundered through Oregon and laughed at the new accent. Rolling into late night Portland for a hot curry and a cheap hotel room with The Fruit Pickers. I want to come back through Portland on my way to Mexico to see some good bands, drink coffee in a trendy manner and watch hipsters self-consciously ride bikes. We ate out of Petrol stations and shitty diners. I try not to eat hamburgers as a kind of personal sentiment of self-respect. In America this has a jarring effect of your culinary freedoms. It's like having a pervasive, lifestyle defining allergy! Freedom... The freedom to forcibly stuff hamburgers into the minds and throats of we the people. Through Washington state and into the end of the line, Port Angeles. I took some fabulous in-car snaps of some Indian Casinos and reservations in Cherokee country. Then a ferry to Canada, a new mode of transport, exciting! On the ferry we bought some nice duty-free rum, sat, sipped and watched the two American speed boats with mounted machine guns chauffeur us out of the land of the free.
America was amazing, the average Joe always impressed me with their hospitality and generosity. But in the official sphere, it went off the rails long ago. Terror runs through the once bold Maverick's veins. Even the Sloth and I are suspects of an attack. Unprovoked we could berserk and cracka bottle of captain morgans private blend on a custom officers forehead . Back in the Orachardmover, the Sloth introduced me to his new home. Victoria, British Columbia. I liked it there, girls would comment on my exotic accent. We picked up the long awaited Hannah Orchard at the ferry the next day. Peta and I observed the belated reunion. The Orchard had grown. Mini Orchard had come from Hawaii and would feel the cold. I understood, feeling a little ripped off too. I imagined a sundreched beerfest on a rooftop in Melbourne somewhere, then put my gloves back on. Of the few days I spent in the abode of the Sloth we drove to a nearby mountain to slide around on snowboard and i uncharacteristically smoked the weed. Had to, you can't turn down vodka in Russia and you can't offend a proud British Colombian when he hands you that burning BC bud.
I had a great time In Canada, even bought a flag (a novelty one that some smartarse had made with a weed leaf in place of a maple). I was keen to head south even if it meant being alone for Christmas in a few days. The Sloth chofured me back to the ferry and I would soon be going it alone back down the west coast. We got sloppy about the amazing time and in turn missed the ferry. Thanks for reading guys. I know this one took a little while, so deal with it. Ther are far better blogs to be reading anyway. So... Peta receives the quote of Victoria. Driving through the downtown and looking out the window, Peta and I noticed a young beggar, appeared strangely sharp and had Orlando Blooms moustache. Peta looked to me "Will, that guy is way too attractive to be homeless"
