Joe: They have lots of Coca-Cola and cigarette memorabilia on the walls. There’s a Phillip Morris sign that says, “Cure your sore throat with a pack of Phillip Morris.” Wow. But all the Coca-Cola signage makes me want a coke. I need a Coke. So even though I rarely ever drink soda I make an exception. Wow. I order a Coke with a side of stomach ache.
Paul: We spend most of the day driving. James is playing his Nintendo DS. Most of Uncle Monsterface is addicted to this game called Animal Crossing. Forgive my ignorance, but the last video game I was psyched for was Mario Kart on the N64. I guess in this game you get to be an anthropomorphized animal and you just kind of walk around and do boring stuff like clean the house and go shopping. Anyway, James is always playing this game and he’ll blurt out things like “I need to water my coconut tree,” or “Awesome! I can get a full set of fatigues for 125 bells.” Marty was paying off his virtual mortgage today. I’m wondering how it’s possible that adulthood has passed over this entire van.
Joe: We arrive at Lori’s and Marty’s house in Athens. Woo! They are awesome! They made us fish tacos! We party together!
Marty Allen: I'm justifiably freaked out to meet someone else named Marty. He takes the nickname from his last name, and to avoid confusion is temporarily allowing for the use of his proper name, "Nick." But people keep calling him Marty, and it makes me nervous.
Paul: Nick from Sleepy Horses is going on a huge triade about the insanity of MySpace. He has a MySpace page for the techno music that he makes as a late-night precursor to the next morning’s hangover. The MySpace page is under his assumed DJ name — DJ Connor — and the fun part is that he’s apparently been fielding loads of friend requests from all sorts of crazed Roseanne fans. Keep in mind that this music has absolutely nothing to do with Roseanne. We were just incredibly impressed that 10 years after the fact, Roseanne has inspired a pretty strong and aggressive internet subculture.
From the sockpuppet journal of Professor Doverbean: The majesty of the Squid. A splendid dancing symphony of light and color and limb, a fantastic monochromatic rainbow of kittens, growing from a lonesome muddy puddle in an abandoned childhood schoolyard. All this, and so much more, is a struggle to articulate the intangible beauty that is and has been my experience of what we are collectively referring to as 'the road.'
A dervish of notions, an eddy of ideas, a collapsing white dwarf of unlimited power. Perched upon a lumbering giant's shoulder, wind battering our cherried cheeks, we stand poised on the cusp of a seething valley of indestructible rock and roll prowess, we look upward, and we salute. With hearts bursting and fists pumping ever-upwards, we are here to rock so hard that it just might hurt a little. And it is good. So very good.
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