...leave dino tracks, stop innumerable times at dry desert barely standing stall indian trading posts along road looking for turquoise ring for me, guy is so patient with this, finally find one, it's too expensive. Arrive in Flagstaff where we plan to stay the night, looking for hotels, guy and I get in Another Sudden Terrible Fight about me NOT READING THE MAP RIGHT. FUCK! Why does this happen!! Shit! Fuck! We end up in super crappy borderline serial killer scary Motel 6 on the wrong side of the tracks, take time alone, find a way back to each other, make up, guy says I'm taking us out to a delicious dinner. Head downtown, it's so cute, Flagstaff, all brick and small streets and quaint and old. We pick the best possible restaurant: "International" food, brick walls, fairy lights, live classical guitar, so romantic and nice. We hold hands and talk about real estate. After, we head to cocktail lounge down the street, order Ketel Ones and observe the crazy diverse white people crowd. No one of color, no gays, but there are cowboys, stoners, death rockers, big hair 40-yr-old women, college girls, messy gray-haired crippled drunks and us. Guy puts a dollar in the 80s music-churning environment and picks 5 songs. Only 3 get out including the Pixies and Morphine, before the bartender just plain turns it off. I'm outside smoking during all this and when I return, guy tells me of the ruckus he caused playing 90s tunes. Hilarious and annoying! Just as I'm launching into a story my friend (W) recently told me about a junior high fashion incident and her fear of being laughed at, an obviously wasted girl with a giant pointed face butts in and says to me, No one will laugh at you! How could anyone laugh at you?! Certainly this is a suprising turn of events, but somehow not offensive. We end up talking music and Flagstaff with her two 25-yr-old girlfriends for a good half hour. We'd had 2 or 3 Ketel Ones at this point and were easily amused. Finally the clock hit 10pm, a crappy surf rock band came on and we bailed to our little love hut on the serial killer side of the tracks.
Monday, May 01, 2006
Day 7: Lake Powell to Flagstaff
Get up, take long walk in canyon inside canyon, pack up camp, look longingly at our perfect spot, don't want to leave (don't want to go home), leave, get breakfast in Page, Arizona. Guy calls friend (P), (P) says, Where are you? Guy says, In Page, Arizona. (P) says OOOOH, that's so excellent, with (your girl)? Yeah, says guy, she's sitting right here next to me, (P) says Awesome. I think of where he is, where we are and how lucky we are to be here and not there (don't want to go home). Get on highway, drive and drive and drive Hwy 89, stop and see dinosaur tracks with tour led by stinky drunk navajo indian man, sun beats on us, between emanating stewed body liquor smell and sun slathering my sunburn, I have hard time finding interest in dinosaur tracks, although there they are: dinosaur tracks...
...leave dino tracks, stop innumerable times at dry desert barely standing stall indian trading posts along road looking for turquoise ring for me, guy is so patient with this, finally find one, it's too expensive. Arrive in Flagstaff where we plan to stay the night, looking for hotels, guy and I get in Another Sudden Terrible Fight about me NOT READING THE MAP RIGHT. FUCK! Why does this happen!! Shit! Fuck! We end up in super crappy borderline serial killer scary Motel 6 on the wrong side of the tracks, take time alone, find a way back to each other, make up, guy says I'm taking us out to a delicious dinner. Head downtown, it's so cute, Flagstaff, all brick and small streets and quaint and old. We pick the best possible restaurant: "International" food, brick walls, fairy lights, live classical guitar, so romantic and nice. We hold hands and talk about real estate. After, we head to cocktail lounge down the street, order Ketel Ones and observe the crazy diverse white people crowd. No one of color, no gays, but there are cowboys, stoners, death rockers, big hair 40-yr-old women, college girls, messy gray-haired crippled drunks and us. Guy puts a dollar in the 80s music-churning environment and picks 5 songs. Only 3 get out including the Pixies and Morphine, before the bartender just plain turns it off. I'm outside smoking during all this and when I return, guy tells me of the ruckus he caused playing 90s tunes. Hilarious and annoying! Just as I'm launching into a story my friend (W) recently told me about a junior high fashion incident and her fear of being laughed at, an obviously wasted girl with a giant pointed face butts in and says to me, No one will laugh at you! How could anyone laugh at you?! Certainly this is a suprising turn of events, but somehow not offensive. We end up talking music and Flagstaff with her two 25-yr-old girlfriends for a good half hour. We'd had 2 or 3 Ketel Ones at this point and were easily amused. Finally the clock hit 10pm, a crappy surf rock band came on and we bailed to our little love hut on the serial killer side of the tracks.
...leave dino tracks, stop innumerable times at dry desert barely standing stall indian trading posts along road looking for turquoise ring for me, guy is so patient with this, finally find one, it's too expensive. Arrive in Flagstaff where we plan to stay the night, looking for hotels, guy and I get in Another Sudden Terrible Fight about me NOT READING THE MAP RIGHT. FUCK! Why does this happen!! Shit! Fuck! We end up in super crappy borderline serial killer scary Motel 6 on the wrong side of the tracks, take time alone, find a way back to each other, make up, guy says I'm taking us out to a delicious dinner. Head downtown, it's so cute, Flagstaff, all brick and small streets and quaint and old. We pick the best possible restaurant: "International" food, brick walls, fairy lights, live classical guitar, so romantic and nice. We hold hands and talk about real estate. After, we head to cocktail lounge down the street, order Ketel Ones and observe the crazy diverse white people crowd. No one of color, no gays, but there are cowboys, stoners, death rockers, big hair 40-yr-old women, college girls, messy gray-haired crippled drunks and us. Guy puts a dollar in the 80s music-churning environment and picks 5 songs. Only 3 get out including the Pixies and Morphine, before the bartender just plain turns it off. I'm outside smoking during all this and when I return, guy tells me of the ruckus he caused playing 90s tunes. Hilarious and annoying! Just as I'm launching into a story my friend (W) recently told me about a junior high fashion incident and her fear of being laughed at, an obviously wasted girl with a giant pointed face butts in and says to me, No one will laugh at you! How could anyone laugh at you?! Certainly this is a suprising turn of events, but somehow not offensive. We end up talking music and Flagstaff with her two 25-yr-old girlfriends for a good half hour. We'd had 2 or 3 Ketel Ones at this point and were easily amused. Finally the clock hit 10pm, a crappy surf rock band came on and we bailed to our little love hut on the serial killer side of the tracks.
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4 comments:
are they really dinosaur tracks?
yeah they're really dinosaur tracks. i never really watched that show labia, i don't have any idea but i'm kind of offended that "kiss my grits" would be an imagined saying in arizona. there's no grits there. that's southern.
Looks nice! Awesome content. Good job guys.
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This site is one of the best I have ever seen, wish I had one like this.
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