Travel Notes, #1788
Posted by TFG on 2nd June 2008
I sure do like a swimming pool after a day of being out in the sun and dust.
Brief moment of panic when I walked into the Valero and only saw the standard eighteen coolers of energy drinks but no beer. It was just around the corner.
I’ve got one reader in these parts. Thanks, Jerry! Unfortunately he didn’t have no honky-tonk recommendations.
Not even Chowhound has any must-try restaurants. They’re my go-to guys, and I feel kinda stranded, but they generally go for the big city rare finds and third-order wimpiness. For the record, my preferences are cheeseburgers, brisket (had some horrible shoe leather masquerading as brisket today for lunch), and Cajun seafood. Tex-Mex is a staple of my diet, but that ain’t hard to make and it takes a lot to wow me.
I am here to say I’m tired of listening to the American public bitch about gas prices and food prices. One more slack-jawed moron looking at me across the island and slurring the standard moronic bitch, and I’m pulling out the Springfield. You asked for it, you got it. Put some damn ethanol on your Wheaties instead of milk, fool.
All right, then — a nice Super-Sonic cheeseburger with some tater tots, and I’m off to bed with a crap paperback serial-murderer novel where the hero is the smartest, best-looking man striding the earth today. Much like me.
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