Hello from Lincoln, Nebraska which is the home of Army Buddy. Army Buddy is a friend from the days of when my hair was brown and America had hopes for the future. Dang, I got depressing all of a sudden. There should have been a sign warning this. Whatever.
We drove from Missouri through Kansas City, Kansas and Kansas City, Missouri, through a small portion of Iowa, finally ending up in northeastern Nebraska. Dude the winds were horrible in Nebraska. Army Buddy tells me that the winds we experienced were normal and usual. Dude. The wind would strike the side of The Love Boat and push it around the road like a toy. A 12 foot high, 35 foot long, 8 1/2 foot wide, 10 ton toy. Big Ole Dumb Southern Boys aren't structured for winds like that but Nebraskans are. Southern Boys only get wind like that during a hurricane but it was just another day in Nebraska. Dude.
Lincoln is a clean and safe town with very little crime. I think I might like to spend some time there if it were not for the wind, tornadoes, bitterly cold winters, and summers worse than Raleighwood. Other than that it is a paradise. I must admit I liked every person I spoke to in Lincoln. They all seemed sincerely nice (shocked from cold winters, hot summers, tornadoes, and the wind) but nice. Or they were enthralled with my charming southern accent. Regardless, Army Buddy is really proud of his town, and it was nice visiting it.
We took The Puppies to a dog groomer in Lincoln for doggie torture. Both pups were mad when Deb picked them up. They did look nice and fluffy but mad. Deb likes to take them to groomers when we are on the road. Speaking of The Puppies, I want a flashing neon sign that says, "The dogs are Keeshonds" because regardless of where we are we always get people to stop us, then tell us The Puppies are so beautiful, and ask us what is their breed.. At last count we have answered that question 478,623,781,123 times give or take a couple times. Monty and Riley are Keeshond ambassadors, mad Keeshond ambassadors, but ambassadors nonetheless.
Today's entry was pretty lame. I didn't really find anything in Lincoln funny or unusual. We leave for Minden, NE very soon. Minden is about 120 miles due west of Lincoln, NE. There is an old museum there that I am told is quite neat.
Bye for now.
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Saturday, June 15, 2013
2013 Canada Trip Columbia, MO-- Softball Complex, Signs--- June 10, 2013
Hello for Columbia, Missouri. I won't go into the MissurA thing again right now.
I am about tired (pronounced tarred) of being wet. The last few days of Raleighwood's weather was Tropical Storm Andrea which made life really, really wet. Even with raingear I was wet for 3 straight days. The last couple days haven't been much different with heavy bands of rain then momentary sunlight then more heavy rain. You get the picture. Boo hoo water the flowers. I can't stand myself when I whine.
We moored The Loveboat somewhere in Missouri for lunch at a China Garden Restaurant. Does every Chinese Restaurant need to be called China Garden? Sort of seems that way to me. But what do I know? After spending another 500 miles in The Love Boat, we dropped anchor for the night in Columbia, Missouri. Now I bet you think I am going to poke fun at the people in the campground? Come on. Admit it. Well I'm not. Well maybe a little. After we checked into the campground we went for a walk on a road next to the campground that went to the county fairgrounds (no biggie) and to the town's "Softball Complex". I always thought softball wasn't complicated at all, but I guess it is in Columbia. This "complex" had several really nice ball fields with lights, buildings, and lots of people playing on their complex fields. We walked around and decided to stop and watch a game with middle and junior high school kids. I forgot to mention that The Puppies (Monty and Riley) were along on our walk. We sat on some empty bleachers save a woman and man that were on opposite ends and about 4 feet from the ground. The bleachers were about 25 feet in length. Riley being Riley and always in need of attention decided he would explore as far as his leash allowed hunting for new sources of attention. Riley went up to the man but the man wasn't interested. So he went up to the woman but was only able to get within 5 or so feet of her. The woman saw Riley and jumped up and moved to the bleachers beside ours to get away from him. I hoped she doesn't do that when she has dinner at someone's house, and they put brussels sprouts on her plate. Geez Louise. I think she hurt Riley's feelings acting like Riley was a pit bull or Rottweiler. I surmised she was a communist. I can tell. So we left a few minutes later, but I made sure Riley got to walk past her. Communistic brussel sprout hopper.
I forgot to mention some stuff about Franfort, KY. The road leading into the Frankfort campground had signs that said, "All vehicles must have a licensed operator and NO JOY RIDING" and "No electronic vehicles allowed". Now the Big Ole Dumb Southern Boy was intrigued as to what joy riding entailed and what in the world was an electronic vehicle. A depressed person wrote those signs. I guess the signs would mean if you are riding to work, you weren't enjoying yourself so that would qualify. If you were riding to the dentist you certainly wouldn't be enjoying yourself and would likewise qualify. BUT, if you were riding to pick up your $10 million dollars of lottery winnings you would be guilty of JOY RIDING punishable by having to stay another night at the campground. Now the electronic vehicle thing got me to thinking. I envisioned a big transistor with wheels on it making beeping sounds like the Dalek in the Dr. Who series. The epitome of troubles would be if you were riding a Dalek and going to pick up your lottery winnings, then you would be damned to Hell and would need to spend eternity in Frankfort. I decided I wouldn't joy ride in that park.
Campgrounds are always full of signs and the Frankfort campground had another intriguing sign that made me go HMMMM. I should explain a little about the campground; it had a creek beside it.The creek was not bubbling, frolicking, or gently traveling. It was big, ugly, and looked like a place water moccasins would have family reunions. This creek was bounded on the campground side with very high earthen wall to hinder, I guess, the occasional flooding of the campground. Besides the creek there wasn't any other water nearby especially not a lake. Just a big creek mind you. That being said a person had a sign on his small travel trailer that stated, "Jim's House At The Lake". Lake Boy Jim must have thought I was "simple" or something because I stopped and stared at his sign. Bouncing around inside my brain were thoughts of needing more coffee, wanting to take a nap, if Riley was going to poop in Lake Boy Jim's Yard at The Lake, and that Lake Boy Jim wasn't too bright. Lake Boy Jim wasn't at any lake, and he sure wasn't in a house. I surmised that Lake Boy Jim had aspired his entire life to have a house at the lake, and he wasn't going to let a few huge details destroy his delusions of grandeur. I'll betcha I know who Lake Boy voted for in the last delusional election. Maybe Lake Boy is damned and will spend eternity in the campground with complex softballs striking his lake house day and night.
Tomorrow is Lincoln, Nebraska. We have not been to Kansas, Iowa, and Nebraska. No I have not had delusional expectations or anything about those states. We shall see what unfolds tomorrow.
Bye for now.
I am about tired (pronounced tarred) of being wet. The last few days of Raleighwood's weather was Tropical Storm Andrea which made life really, really wet. Even with raingear I was wet for 3 straight days. The last couple days haven't been much different with heavy bands of rain then momentary sunlight then more heavy rain. You get the picture. Boo hoo water the flowers. I can't stand myself when I whine.
We moored The Loveboat somewhere in Missouri for lunch at a China Garden Restaurant. Does every Chinese Restaurant need to be called China Garden? Sort of seems that way to me. But what do I know? After spending another 500 miles in The Love Boat, we dropped anchor for the night in Columbia, Missouri. Now I bet you think I am going to poke fun at the people in the campground? Come on. Admit it. Well I'm not. Well maybe a little. After we checked into the campground we went for a walk on a road next to the campground that went to the county fairgrounds (no biggie) and to the town's "Softball Complex". I always thought softball wasn't complicated at all, but I guess it is in Columbia. This "complex" had several really nice ball fields with lights, buildings, and lots of people playing on their complex fields. We walked around and decided to stop and watch a game with middle and junior high school kids. I forgot to mention that The Puppies (Monty and Riley) were along on our walk. We sat on some empty bleachers save a woman and man that were on opposite ends and about 4 feet from the ground. The bleachers were about 25 feet in length. Riley being Riley and always in need of attention decided he would explore as far as his leash allowed hunting for new sources of attention. Riley went up to the man but the man wasn't interested. So he went up to the woman but was only able to get within 5 or so feet of her. The woman saw Riley and jumped up and moved to the bleachers beside ours to get away from him. I hoped she doesn't do that when she has dinner at someone's house, and they put brussels sprouts on her plate. Geez Louise. I think she hurt Riley's feelings acting like Riley was a pit bull or Rottweiler. I surmised she was a communist. I can tell. So we left a few minutes later, but I made sure Riley got to walk past her. Communistic brussel sprout hopper.
I forgot to mention some stuff about Franfort, KY. The road leading into the Frankfort campground had signs that said, "All vehicles must have a licensed operator and NO JOY RIDING" and "No electronic vehicles allowed". Now the Big Ole Dumb Southern Boy was intrigued as to what joy riding entailed and what in the world was an electronic vehicle. A depressed person wrote those signs. I guess the signs would mean if you are riding to work, you weren't enjoying yourself so that would qualify. If you were riding to the dentist you certainly wouldn't be enjoying yourself and would likewise qualify. BUT, if you were riding to pick up your $10 million dollars of lottery winnings you would be guilty of JOY RIDING punishable by having to stay another night at the campground. Now the electronic vehicle thing got me to thinking. I envisioned a big transistor with wheels on it making beeping sounds like the Dalek in the Dr. Who series. The epitome of troubles would be if you were riding a Dalek and going to pick up your lottery winnings, then you would be damned to Hell and would need to spend eternity in Frankfort. I decided I wouldn't joy ride in that park.
Campgrounds are always full of signs and the Frankfort campground had another intriguing sign that made me go HMMMM. I should explain a little about the campground; it had a creek beside it.The creek was not bubbling, frolicking, or gently traveling. It was big, ugly, and looked like a place water moccasins would have family reunions. This creek was bounded on the campground side with very high earthen wall to hinder, I guess, the occasional flooding of the campground. Besides the creek there wasn't any other water nearby especially not a lake. Just a big creek mind you. That being said a person had a sign on his small travel trailer that stated, "Jim's House At The Lake". Lake Boy Jim must have thought I was "simple" or something because I stopped and stared at his sign. Bouncing around inside my brain were thoughts of needing more coffee, wanting to take a nap, if Riley was going to poop in Lake Boy Jim's Yard at The Lake, and that Lake Boy Jim wasn't too bright. Lake Boy Jim wasn't at any lake, and he sure wasn't in a house. I surmised that Lake Boy Jim had aspired his entire life to have a house at the lake, and he wasn't going to let a few huge details destroy his delusions of grandeur. I'll betcha I know who Lake Boy voted for in the last delusional election. Maybe Lake Boy is damned and will spend eternity in the campground with complex softballs striking his lake house day and night.
Tomorrow is Lincoln, Nebraska. We have not been to Kansas, Iowa, and Nebraska. No I have not had delusional expectations or anything about those states. We shall see what unfolds tomorrow.
Bye for now.
Sunday, June 9, 2013
2013 Canada Trip. KY Jelly, Monkeys, Cooterville --Frankfort, KY June 9, 2013
Hi de ho Kmart shoppers, it has been a while. In case you didn't get the memo, we are on the way to Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. Yes, I can spell Saskatchewan easily. We are in Franfort, KY where KY means Kentucky not KY Jelly as in the world has been my personal proctologist except the world hasn't been using KY Jelly on me. Boo hoo water the flowers. In the coming weeks I will enlighten you more about the past couple weeks a little at a time so your head doesn't explode all over your monitor. But for now I shall pause my whining and get onto fun and games.
We left Raleighwood this morning about half past I don't give a rat's butt, because we left when I had been taught my hard earned lessons for the day. I believe it was about 9am, actually who know and who cares, it was half past a rat's butt. We drove until we got to Winston Salem where we stopped in a somewhat dangerous place and got some caffeine-free Cheerwine soda. Now I love Cheerwine because I am a boy (old boy but still a boy) that grew up with Cheerwine which is actually a softdrink that resembles a cherry coke or somesuch. Anyway, I like Cheerwine as I always have but can't get the caffiene-free version in Raleighwood because some nitwit marketing slug thinks Raleighwoodites need all the caffeine they can get. However, this Big Ole Dumb Southern Boy can't tolerate caffeine anymore because it makes parts of my body thump in pain almost as horribly as Teddy Kennedy's liquored up head the morning after car scuba diving in Lake Chappaquiddick. I am surely going to Hell after that last reference. Dang, I forgot where I was. Oh year, Cheerwine. Well, we stopped and bought the mamby pamby version of Cheerwine and The Big Ole Dumb Southern Boy is all happy again. Of course I had to put my life in peril to get it by walking through the parking lot of Winston Salem Crackwhore Pimp Central Food Lion's parking lot. Geez Louise. I am having one now sitting here is Frankfort, KY (Kentucky not KY Jelly).
Speaking of Frankfort, this place is between Lexington and Louisville, you know behind the big rock and left at where Cooter ran the gas station. I am told Frankfort is the capitol of Kentucky even though I can't remember from grade school which bohunk Cooterville in KY (dang there you go again, KY means Kentucky) is the truthful capitol. I ain't sure about where we are but I am sure that we are with some scary looking people. Cooterville must be a bright light in the sea of darkness for the scary human moths of the world. You know that saying about if you give a bunch of monkeys a bunch of computers the monkeys through sheer coincidence will eventually type out something important like the Constitution? Well the monkeys, scary looking monkeys mind you, are in this campground and they all have computers and they are trying to type out a blog like mine about Cooterville KY (don't make it say it again). I'll bet the monkeys will refer to Cooterville as Cootervillewood like the Big Ole Dumb Southern Boy. I'll bet the monkeys are trying to be all smartalecky like The Big Ole Dumb Southern Boy too. Dang monkeys. Stupid Cooterville. It only takes one monkey with one computer to write this blog. Stupid monkeys.
Tomorrow we are headed through St Louis and plan to stop and see the Arch. If my luck holds true then the dang Arch will fall on me, and I'll have to pay for it. The world's proctologists are everywhere. Why shouldn't Missouri (pronounced mizz zur ra not mizz zur e) be any different. Ooh no, they need to be different in MizzzurA. I'll bet the monkeys in this park worked overtime in MizzurA trying to find a stupid way to pronounce MizzurE.
I am going to sign off now and go to bed and dream about monkeys, KY Jelly, and Cooterville. We'll see what tomorrow brings. The day after we will be in Nebraska where Army Buddy lives.
Bye for now.
We left Raleighwood this morning about half past I don't give a rat's butt, because we left when I had been taught my hard earned lessons for the day. I believe it was about 9am, actually who know and who cares, it was half past a rat's butt. We drove until we got to Winston Salem where we stopped in a somewhat dangerous place and got some caffeine-free Cheerwine soda. Now I love Cheerwine because I am a boy (old boy but still a boy) that grew up with Cheerwine which is actually a softdrink that resembles a cherry coke or somesuch. Anyway, I like Cheerwine as I always have but can't get the caffiene-free version in Raleighwood because some nitwit marketing slug thinks Raleighwoodites need all the caffeine they can get. However, this Big Ole Dumb Southern Boy can't tolerate caffeine anymore because it makes parts of my body thump in pain almost as horribly as Teddy Kennedy's liquored up head the morning after car scuba diving in Lake Chappaquiddick. I am surely going to Hell after that last reference. Dang, I forgot where I was. Oh year, Cheerwine. Well, we stopped and bought the mamby pamby version of Cheerwine and The Big Ole Dumb Southern Boy is all happy again. Of course I had to put my life in peril to get it by walking through the parking lot of Winston Salem Crackwhore Pimp Central Food Lion's parking lot. Geez Louise. I am having one now sitting here is Frankfort, KY (Kentucky not KY Jelly).
Speaking of Frankfort, this place is between Lexington and Louisville, you know behind the big rock and left at where Cooter ran the gas station. I am told Frankfort is the capitol of Kentucky even though I can't remember from grade school which bohunk Cooterville in KY (dang there you go again, KY means Kentucky) is the truthful capitol. I ain't sure about where we are but I am sure that we are with some scary looking people. Cooterville must be a bright light in the sea of darkness for the scary human moths of the world. You know that saying about if you give a bunch of monkeys a bunch of computers the monkeys through sheer coincidence will eventually type out something important like the Constitution? Well the monkeys, scary looking monkeys mind you, are in this campground and they all have computers and they are trying to type out a blog like mine about Cooterville KY (don't make it say it again). I'll bet the monkeys will refer to Cooterville as Cootervillewood like the Big Ole Dumb Southern Boy. I'll bet the monkeys are trying to be all smartalecky like The Big Ole Dumb Southern Boy too. Dang monkeys. Stupid Cooterville. It only takes one monkey with one computer to write this blog. Stupid monkeys.
Tomorrow we are headed through St Louis and plan to stop and see the Arch. If my luck holds true then the dang Arch will fall on me, and I'll have to pay for it. The world's proctologists are everywhere. Why shouldn't Missouri (pronounced mizz zur ra not mizz zur e) be any different. Ooh no, they need to be different in MizzzurA. I'll bet the monkeys in this park worked overtime in MizzurA trying to find a stupid way to pronounce MizzurE.
I am going to sign off now and go to bed and dream about monkeys, KY Jelly, and Cooterville. We'll see what tomorrow brings. The day after we will be in Nebraska where Army Buddy lives.
Bye for now.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Rally, Earnhardt, Bumperstickers---Daytona, FL Nov 2, 2012
Well hello again. It has been a while, but I haven't had anything to
say--yeah right. Truth be told I never write about stuff around home.
Period. But, we are not at home now. We are at a Good Sam's Rally in
Daytona, Florida located in the infield of Daytona Motorspeedway. And
yes, I have seen a couple "In Rememberance of #3 Dale Earnhardt" signs.
Geez Louise will these people ever give up? Ding, ding, ding, the
answer is no. I equate those Earnhardt folks with the women that drive
wittle minivans with "Soccer Mom" bumperstickers. In the first case,
those folks likely never got closer to Earnhardt than their TV screen
and should get a life. In the later case, those people should find
something more constructive to refer to themselves and should also get a life. I must say I am
thankful for both cases, because I can start my fun poking session
right off the bat. Let's talk more about the rally.
This rally has tons of RV related manufacturers in attendance including every motorhome made. This is truly something to see if you like RVs. As far as my eye (my good eye) can see there are RVs parked with colorful people walking around. And the best part is that I am one of the youngest people here. Yeah buddy. RVers are known for being cheap or rather a small group of them have exemplified that behavior which ultimately resulted in the majority being given a label. Regardless, the idjits are plentiful and give me lots of funny ammunition to talk about in the blog.
Yesterday we registered for the rally at the registration area located in the race car inspectors building. The event staff gave us an armful of printed crap about the rally and one of the pieces was a couple numbers printed on huge stickers that said "find your matching number and get a free prize" or some nonsense along those lines.I knew as soon as I saw the stickers that this was going to make the blog. Well here it is. The free prize so eloquently referred to is a stupid t-shirt that I wouldn't walk across the street to pee on to put it out if it were ablaze. But everyone was asked to wear the stickers and look for their matching numbers on the other morons wearing the numbers. Now you probably guessed The Big Ole Dumb Southern Boy ain't wearing any stupid sticker and neither is The Queen of the Big Ole Dumb Southern Boy's Doublewide. But as you can guess lots of people did and some actually carried ignorance to an American Idol level. One woman walked up to me and shouted a number in my face and said something trailer trashy about being her match. I thought that my only match with her would be my big ole hairy butt and her face, but my big ole hairy butt had less hair than the monkey butt that she called a face. This woman probably was in the Dale Earnhardt trailer. What compels a woman to obsess over a t-shirt other than stupidity or Jim Beam? Holy moly, I would have to remove half my brain to be married to her.
Tomorrow, I am going to walk the raceway's track which is only about 3.5 miles. That is less than my daily walk so it shouldn't be too much trouble other than the 30 degree banked turns. Yes, ladies and gentleman, I did say 30 degree paved turns and that is physics at its best. The Love Boat is moored about 100 yards from the track's finish line in the infield. I think the road we abut (no abut not my big ole hairy butt) is part of the motorcycle or infield racing track. Beats me how that works, however, the inner track is now the walking path for the attendees going to and from their Earnhardt decorated manufactured mobile housing units. This huge track is a little town all to itself with Yankees, Big ole Dumb Southern boys, Doublewide Queens, every breed of dog ever known, and idjits with Earnhardt and "Are You My Match" stickers as inhabitants. For a guy like me with a sense of humor this place is superb.
In case you picked up on the reference to The Love Boat, yes we are in old motorhome. The new motorhome is moored in Raleigh and mired in a lawsuit to which I cannot discuss. I can say that the new motorhome's odometer was tampered with. I can't discuss this further until after the lawyers finish. I will gladly name names later.
Kenny Rogers is the entertainment tonight and Reba McEntire is tomorrow. I am going to carry my camera today because I don't have words to describe some of the stuff that I see. Oh, I have not seen a BO for prez bumpersticker in the entire area but dozens of Romney ads.
Bye for now.
This rally has tons of RV related manufacturers in attendance including every motorhome made. This is truly something to see if you like RVs. As far as my eye (my good eye) can see there are RVs parked with colorful people walking around. And the best part is that I am one of the youngest people here. Yeah buddy. RVers are known for being cheap or rather a small group of them have exemplified that behavior which ultimately resulted in the majority being given a label. Regardless, the idjits are plentiful and give me lots of funny ammunition to talk about in the blog.
Yesterday we registered for the rally at the registration area located in the race car inspectors building. The event staff gave us an armful of printed crap about the rally and one of the pieces was a couple numbers printed on huge stickers that said "find your matching number and get a free prize" or some nonsense along those lines.I knew as soon as I saw the stickers that this was going to make the blog. Well here it is. The free prize so eloquently referred to is a stupid t-shirt that I wouldn't walk across the street to pee on to put it out if it were ablaze. But everyone was asked to wear the stickers and look for their matching numbers on the other morons wearing the numbers. Now you probably guessed The Big Ole Dumb Southern Boy ain't wearing any stupid sticker and neither is The Queen of the Big Ole Dumb Southern Boy's Doublewide. But as you can guess lots of people did and some actually carried ignorance to an American Idol level. One woman walked up to me and shouted a number in my face and said something trailer trashy about being her match. I thought that my only match with her would be my big ole hairy butt and her face, but my big ole hairy butt had less hair than the monkey butt that she called a face. This woman probably was in the Dale Earnhardt trailer. What compels a woman to obsess over a t-shirt other than stupidity or Jim Beam? Holy moly, I would have to remove half my brain to be married to her.
Tomorrow, I am going to walk the raceway's track which is only about 3.5 miles. That is less than my daily walk so it shouldn't be too much trouble other than the 30 degree banked turns. Yes, ladies and gentleman, I did say 30 degree paved turns and that is physics at its best. The Love Boat is moored about 100 yards from the track's finish line in the infield. I think the road we abut (no abut not my big ole hairy butt) is part of the motorcycle or infield racing track. Beats me how that works, however, the inner track is now the walking path for the attendees going to and from their Earnhardt decorated manufactured mobile housing units. This huge track is a little town all to itself with Yankees, Big ole Dumb Southern boys, Doublewide Queens, every breed of dog ever known, and idjits with Earnhardt and "Are You My Match" stickers as inhabitants. For a guy like me with a sense of humor this place is superb.
In case you picked up on the reference to The Love Boat, yes we are in old motorhome. The new motorhome is moored in Raleigh and mired in a lawsuit to which I cannot discuss. I can say that the new motorhome's odometer was tampered with. I can't discuss this further until after the lawyers finish. I will gladly name names later.
Kenny Rogers is the entertainment tonight and Reba McEntire is tomorrow. I am going to carry my camera today because I don't have words to describe some of the stuff that I see. Oh, I have not seen a BO for prez bumpersticker in the entire area but dozens of Romney ads.
Bye for now.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Home, Sneering--Raleigh, NC Jan 21, 2012
Good golly Miss Molly we are home. We drove from Greenville to Raleigh today. The Love Boat and Roadrunner are moored at the state fairgrounds awaiting cargo removal and cleaning before dry docking at the storage facility. Dang, I carried the nautical theme too far. We are going to wash and cleanup both motorhomes before they go to storage. Both motorhomes are filthy from the mud and rain. Yes, I said rain. It is a foreign concept to us as we became desert dwellers. The rain has been fun to watch.
Roadrunner is a fast motorhome. It drives and rides so much better than The Love Boat. We miss The Love Boat though. That motorhome has been shelter and transportation to us for 2 NC to CA trips and 1 NC to Saskatchewan trip--to you Americans (pronounced A MUR A KINS), Saskatchewan is that spot on the map above Montana and North Dakota. You know where the map stops and the world ends according to most A MUR A KINS. Anyway, you might say The Love Boat took us to the end of the earth as known by A MUR A KINS. We will miss it. I will not miss sleeping in Roadrunner's bathtub or commonly called that stupid leaking Select Comfort mattress. This is where I sneer with disgust after not having a working mattress for 2200 miles. Actually this where I double sneer for not having a working mattress for 2200 miles. You can take my word I am really sneering now. Really.
I took Walter and Melissa to Walter's aunt's house tonight to get Melissa's car. I should mention that Walter pronounces aunt like AAAAAANTTT with a long A instead of ANT like the rest of us heathens. Anyway Walter's AAAAAAANTT's name is Kat, and Kat told me that a nice lady from church who was 100 years old "finally" died. Of course Kat didn't mean to say finally but the word left her mouth and frolicked around the yard, hit the house and 2 neighbor's cars then bounced off the pavement and FINALLY jumped into our ears. I looked at Kat and said that she just FINALLY made the blog and she laughed. Well Kat, here it is. The lady that died will be deeply missed by us all and (finally) Kat too.
Anyway, it is getting late and I need to go sleep on a regular mattress that won't deflate. I'll write more manana. Oh, I start my third class in Spanish this week. Oh goody.
Al
Roadrunner is a fast motorhome. It drives and rides so much better than The Love Boat. We miss The Love Boat though. That motorhome has been shelter and transportation to us for 2 NC to CA trips and 1 NC to Saskatchewan trip--to you Americans (pronounced A MUR A KINS), Saskatchewan is that spot on the map above Montana and North Dakota. You know where the map stops and the world ends according to most A MUR A KINS. Anyway, you might say The Love Boat took us to the end of the earth as known by A MUR A KINS. We will miss it. I will not miss sleeping in Roadrunner's bathtub or commonly called that stupid leaking Select Comfort mattress. This is where I sneer with disgust after not having a working mattress for 2200 miles. Actually this where I double sneer for not having a working mattress for 2200 miles. You can take my word I am really sneering now. Really.
I took Walter and Melissa to Walter's aunt's house tonight to get Melissa's car. I should mention that Walter pronounces aunt like AAAAAANTTT with a long A instead of ANT like the rest of us heathens. Anyway Walter's AAAAAAANTT's name is Kat, and Kat told me that a nice lady from church who was 100 years old "finally" died. Of course Kat didn't mean to say finally but the word left her mouth and frolicked around the yard, hit the house and 2 neighbor's cars then bounced off the pavement and FINALLY jumped into our ears. I looked at Kat and said that she just FINALLY made the blog and she laughed. Well Kat, here it is. The lady that died will be deeply missed by us all and (finally) Kat too.
Anyway, it is getting late and I need to go sleep on a regular mattress that won't deflate. I'll write more manana. Oh, I start my third class in Spanish this week. Oh goody.
Al
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Opelika Update, Campground here--Greenville, SC Jan 21, 2012
Well we survived the night in haunted campground in Opelika, AL just fine. This morning we spoke to the caretaker about the park. He said that the swimming pool was a spring fed pool for 70 years that was tremendously popular up until a quarry started and the spring went dry. The idea of a swimming pool meeting its demise do to lack of water when water lines are 75 feet away made me go humm. I think the pool was haunted and contracted a Opelikaness Monster or something. The caretaker said that the campground part was built with money from a government grant. I ain't buying it. I think the money came from some evil person that wanted campers to get hacked up during the night. The caretaker said that the town plans on renovating the old house back to its grandeur. I ain't buying that either. I think they tried to renovate it, and the construction workers got hacked up too fast. A couple of the RV sites looked like it had fresh mud with gravel on top that certainly was from Yankees getting hacked up and buried under the camp spots. Now you are asking yourself how does he know that only Yankees get hacked up by the ghost? It is simple, Southern ghosts don't hack up Southerners that would be barbaric.
Man it rained in Atlanta today. The robotic weather voice on the weather radio said high winds and a tornado watch happened just as we approached the storm. Oh goody. We made it through the storm and didn't stop but some people did along the side of the road which is fine with me. All of the people on the side of the road had on their hazard flashers like they should. The really stupid people drove really slow with their hazard flashers on so that people would come up on them suddenly and think they were on the side of the road and smash into them then have to bury the stupid people on the side of the road so that the stupid people would later become stupid ghosts that haunt the road. So, you should either drive without your flashers on or pull off and turn on your flashers. Otherwise, you become deadmeat for driving with your stupid flashers on. Morons.
We are staying in a "campground" near Greenville. This "campground" was carved out of a pasture when someone put in water, sewer, and electricity. I guess they spent all of their money on the utilities as the campsites are not even close to something that would resemble level. The leveling jacks couldn't level the motorhome at all because the jacks were too short and the rear wheels left the ground. Duhhh. The site next to us resembled a drive-on pit that used to be popular. You know a pit about 6 feet deep and wide enough to pull a car onto to work on the underside. This site looked like a drive on pit with two each 1' wide by 20' long strips separated by about 4'. In the center of the two strips was a pool of water that would have been where the pit was. I wouldn't pull a motorhome up on something like that. In the defense of the "campground", it is in the middle of a nice open field with a nice pond even though they did convert a drive-on pit into a campsite. I'll bet they did that so that campers would drive onto the pit and fall in and drown so the campground owners could feed the Greenvilleness Monster living in that pond in the field. It really is expensive to feed a Greenvilleness Monster, and who really cares about stupid people stupid enough to drive onto a drive-on pit filled with water. Not me of course.
Tomorrow we arrive in Raleighwood. YEAH. This has been a long trip, and we are looking forward to sleeping in our on bed with a real mattress on it. See Yall manana.
Al
Man it rained in Atlanta today. The robotic weather voice on the weather radio said high winds and a tornado watch happened just as we approached the storm. Oh goody. We made it through the storm and didn't stop but some people did along the side of the road which is fine with me. All of the people on the side of the road had on their hazard flashers like they should. The really stupid people drove really slow with their hazard flashers on so that people would come up on them suddenly and think they were on the side of the road and smash into them then have to bury the stupid people on the side of the road so that the stupid people would later become stupid ghosts that haunt the road. So, you should either drive without your flashers on or pull off and turn on your flashers. Otherwise, you become deadmeat for driving with your stupid flashers on. Morons.
We are staying in a "campground" near Greenville. This "campground" was carved out of a pasture when someone put in water, sewer, and electricity. I guess they spent all of their money on the utilities as the campsites are not even close to something that would resemble level. The leveling jacks couldn't level the motorhome at all because the jacks were too short and the rear wheels left the ground. Duhhh. The site next to us resembled a drive-on pit that used to be popular. You know a pit about 6 feet deep and wide enough to pull a car onto to work on the underside. This site looked like a drive on pit with two each 1' wide by 20' long strips separated by about 4'. In the center of the two strips was a pool of water that would have been where the pit was. I wouldn't pull a motorhome up on something like that. In the defense of the "campground", it is in the middle of a nice open field with a nice pond even though they did convert a drive-on pit into a campsite. I'll bet they did that so that campers would drive onto the pit and fall in and drown so the campground owners could feed the Greenvilleness Monster living in that pond in the field. It really is expensive to feed a Greenvilleness Monster, and who really cares about stupid people stupid enough to drive onto a drive-on pit filled with water. Not me of course.
Tomorrow we arrive in Raleighwood. YEAH. This has been a long trip, and we are looking forward to sleeping in our on bed with a real mattress on it. See Yall manana.
Al
Friday, January 20, 2012
RV Park--Opelika, Alabama Jan 20, 2012
If you read the title line, you are saying where is Opelika, don't ask me. I know it is on I-85 about halfway between Montgomery, Alabama and Atlanta. In other words it is in the middle of who knows where. We are staying in a campground run by the city. We were walking around this very old house on the grounds, and I was kidding Melissa that a ghost lived there. Deb read online that the original owner of the house and land may have been stabbed to death in the house then beheaded on the grounds. Oh goody. The park here is almost deserted with only one other RV. It seems like a nice park but it is located a long way from the interstate. Normally we would not venture so far from the interstate for an overnight stay, but in this part of the woods R V parks are few and far between and haunted RV parks are even fewer. This blog is beginning to sound like B grade horror movie plot. We walked around in the park, and the park had a municipal swimming pool that is now overgrown and abandoned. Holly molly this is starting to sound like a slasher movie.
We left New Orleans this morning and drove about 375 miles. We plan to stop in Greenville, SC tomorrow for a dinner meeting with some Christmas display folks. We should be back in Raleighwood on Sunday, YEA. The Puppies want to run in the backyard of their home and they have had enough of riding in RVs-- I agree with them. Traveling can be fun but coming home from a long trip can be fun too.
We stopped in Mobile, Alabama (pronounced mo bee al) today. I throughly enjoyed speaking to people with a Southern accent. What continues to amaze me are the trees and grass. I keep looking for the rock and sand of the desert and can't believe it is gone. But it is gone and cold weather is near. I am looking forward to it.
Yall have a good day and don't let the beheaded ghosts keep you from it.
Al
We left New Orleans this morning and drove about 375 miles. We plan to stop in Greenville, SC tomorrow for a dinner meeting with some Christmas display folks. We should be back in Raleighwood on Sunday, YEA. The Puppies want to run in the backyard of their home and they have had enough of riding in RVs-- I agree with them. Traveling can be fun but coming home from a long trip can be fun too.
We stopped in Mobile, Alabama (pronounced mo bee al) today. I throughly enjoyed speaking to people with a Southern accent. What continues to amaze me are the trees and grass. I keep looking for the rock and sand of the desert and can't believe it is gone. But it is gone and cold weather is near. I am looking forward to it.
Yall have a good day and don't let the beheaded ghosts keep you from it.
Al
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)