We finally left Yellowstone, though Brennan has lost several of his appendages. This is unfortunate for two reasons: One, they would have been useful for his life, and two – more importantly – his cooking has been nourishing me through my search. I will now live off pieces of cardboard box that’s been storing our food and small bits of grass.
We made it to Grand Teton before nightfall, only to be snowed on like of pack wild Alaskan Eskimos. Though the Teton landscapes are pretty, they are hardly enough to inspire my soul out from hiding, especially when it’s cold enough to make one’s nipples hard like diamonds. That’s how Brennan’s felt to my touch. The good news is that I made it out of Yellowstone with a vital clue to the nature of my soul. It likes pasta and beans. This is logical, since these are two delicious dishes, though unfortunate since my diet no longer includes these items.
After narrowly escaping from Teton’s winter, we continued onward towards distance in-laws in Salt Lake City. We were pretty much scared out of our minds the entire time because it’s a land of fearsome creatures that make marauding bison look like Telletubies: Mormons. Underage brides, too many brides, poor brides, about-to-have-16-children-to repopulate-the-earth brides, and golden tablets only readable by secret glasses. Obviously this is not a place you venture into without a concealed, yet relatively large weapon. Our gracious hosts took us in and offered many drinks during our stay, probably because drunkenness dulls instinctual fear. If anyone thinks I searched for my soul in this place they are probably high on methamphetamines
Sunday June 8th
Out from Mormon land we emerged today, though landing in an equally strange one. It felt hot and barren, an unfamiliar sense to us thus far. It was the Bonneville Salt Falts – a salt graveyard of an ancient lake during the last ice age.
Out from Mormon land we emerged today, though landing in an equally strange one. It felt hot and barren, an unfamiliar sense to us thus far. It was the Bonneville Salt Falts – a salt graveyard of an ancient lake during the last ice age.
The flats were hot, so we urinated on our shirts and wrapped our heads to keep cool. We learned it from Bear Grylls during the desert episode of Man vs. Wild. Brennan’s appendages have been added with photoshop for completeness of picture. There was a moment when my soul – that tricky son of a bitch – momentarily appeared out of hiding. Brennan saw it first, though I couldn’t tell where he was trying to direct my view since he had no arms. Sorry soul, little buddy.
Monday, June 9, 2008
We left Salt Lake City and headed towards Yosemite last night, Yellowstone’s precarious little brother - though not before stopping at Lake Tahoe for the night to sleep since small bits of grass leave me tired and lacking basic nutrients. I’ve already eaten the entire cardboard box. The yearning for my soul burns the inside of me like a thousand fire ants nipping at my testicles.
We left Salt Lake City and headed towards Yosemite last night, Yellowstone’s precarious little brother - though not before stopping at Lake Tahoe for the night to sleep since small bits of grass leave me tired and lacking basic nutrients. I’ve already eaten the entire cardboard box. The yearning for my soul burns the inside of me like a thousand fire ants nipping at my testicles.
In the early afternoon we followed a dirt road that winded away from the main road towards a hotspring, a joy I hear everyone is supposed to enjoy. I’ve seen the movie Dante's Peak where the two naïve swimmers get burned alive in this kind of death trap, so I obviously proceeded forth without hesitation. Danger breeds manhood, and manhood breeds souls. I don’t know if we were ever in any danger though since most of the heat was likely from kiddie pee. And some of my own.
Right now Brennan is trying to drive – we placed a large rock on the gas pedal and he’s using his head to steer, so I don’t think he can see much. He’s so precocious. When I drive I spend most of my visual time at the GPS or built-in MPG calculator, so I don’t see much more then he does anyways. It’s frustrating that he’s still able to drive with such a flare as to arouse both animate and inanimate objects, while I am not.
Tuesday, June 10th.
We arrived in Yosemite midday yesterday, and it was pure carnage - Redwood trees, giant rocks, and gentle meadows like the kind from Anne of Green Gables. Apparently Yosemite’s landscapes are the leftover carvings of huge glacial movements that flung the landscape around like New Orleans’ underprivileged residents during Hurricane Katrina. There is one famous cliff – Krystal peak - that rose high enough to escape the destructive glacial forces. It sat patiently by while its brother and sister peaks were slowly ravaged, which in a silly world one might symbolically relate to FEMA - though such a person would not be me because hey, symbolism is silly, isn’t it?
Brennan and I wandered off the main road to hike through Yosemite’s forest and a find better view of the new world we had entered. Don’t let our gentle and happy disposition fool you though. Our camera is set on the bodies of four dead tourists. If you’re wondering how we managed to take the picture you’ll need a grasp on quantum mechanics and an ability to think in at least four dimensions.
Right now Brennan is trying to drive – we placed a large rock on the gas pedal and he’s using his head to steer, so I don’t think he can see much. He’s so precocious. When I drive I spend most of my visual time at the GPS or built-in MPG calculator, so I don’t see much more then he does anyways. It’s frustrating that he’s still able to drive with such a flare as to arouse both animate and inanimate objects, while I am not.
Tuesday, June 10th.
We arrived in Yosemite midday yesterday, and it was pure carnage - Redwood trees, giant rocks, and gentle meadows like the kind from Anne of Green Gables. Apparently Yosemite’s landscapes are the leftover carvings of huge glacial movements that flung the landscape around like New Orleans’ underprivileged residents during Hurricane Katrina. There is one famous cliff – Krystal peak - that rose high enough to escape the destructive glacial forces. It sat patiently by while its brother and sister peaks were slowly ravaged, which in a silly world one might symbolically relate to FEMA - though such a person would not be me because hey, symbolism is silly, isn’t it?
Brennan and I wandered off the main road to hike through Yosemite’s forest and a find better view of the new world we had entered. Don’t let our gentle and happy disposition fool you though. Our camera is set on the bodies of four dead tourists. If you’re wondering how we managed to take the picture you’ll need a grasp on quantum mechanics and an ability to think in at least four dimensions.
No soul findings on Monday.
Apparently the waterfalls here are as numerous as the number of foreign children Angelina Jolie has adopted. They run rampant through this place like HIV in South Africa or number of appendages I have compared to Brennan. I’d like to say that Souls like waterfalls, but I really don’t know this time. Of course this didn’t stop me from searching because I do know souls sometimes like to play tricks and hide near twin trees on the outskirts of waterfalls. Everyone knows that though because it’s obvious.
Apparently the waterfalls here are as numerous as the number of foreign children Angelina Jolie has adopted. They run rampant through this place like HIV in South Africa or number of appendages I have compared to Brennan. I’d like to say that Souls like waterfalls, but I really don’t know this time. Of course this didn’t stop me from searching because I do know souls sometimes like to play tricks and hide near twin trees on the outskirts of waterfalls. Everyone knows that though because it’s obvious.
Afterwards I made a bagged delight of mixed pasta and canned beans and scattered it around the area to entice my soul from hiding, but to no avail. My soul is a temptress, continually teasing the senses and tickling the mind while it’s being sought.
We hiked to a second waterfall shortly thereafter. I would have thought that hiking up treacherous, Aztec-like steps through physically difficult conditions would ward off small children, the elderly, and the obese. Apparently they are capable of the same sorts of things as Brennan and I, which is why we passed them during our climb. We’re soul searching, bitches.
We hiked to a second waterfall shortly thereafter. I would have thought that hiking up treacherous, Aztec-like steps through physically difficult conditions would ward off small children, the elderly, and the obese. Apparently they are capable of the same sorts of things as Brennan and I, which is why we passed them during our climb. We’re soul searching, bitches.
I’ve already found some insights on the communal relationship between nudity and nature, so I decided to commune a little in front of the waterfall. Brennan interrupted my time and perversely starting taking pictures of this very personal event. If he wasn’t so entertaining trying to push the camera button without any fingers I would have been a lot more upset.
If Brennan had legs and needed to use me as a stepping stone over dangerous ledges, this is what it might look like. It’s only hypothetical though and has been generated using supercomputers.
If Brennan had legs and needed to use me as a stepping stone over dangerous ledges, this is what it might look like. It’s only hypothetical though and has been generated using supercomputers.
We took a rafting trip down the valley river, though the waters were tranquil and weak. Since we were never close to death it’s barely worth commenting on. Tonight we leave for San Francisco – I’ve heard rumors that if you stay longer than three or four days you turn homosexual. I’ve always believed these kinds of rumors to be based on sound logic and science, so I will accept them as true. Since Brennan and I have nothing against these friendly people or their sexual preference though, we go forth willingly.
2 comments:
ANNE with an E jeff! clearly you have never actually seen or read Anne of Green Gables and I am offended that you would casually mock this wonderful literary and cinematic work in your blog.
I'm looking forward to hearing about your San Francisco experience. I think both of you have tapped into your inner lesbian.
Cheers,
Tracy (your gay asian sidekick)
Post a Comment