middle america is a lot like middle earth

America. Fuck yeah. I hope to see the sights, the giant yarn balls, and taste the many greasy tastes that middle america has to offer. Bring on the cheese fries. We kick off our trip with a 36 hour road trip to minneapolis, minnesota. We began by sailing through the vast high desert, and taking in the beauty of all of the surrounding space. Just as we began to take it all in, Carl, my good friend says the most sensible shit I've heard all day. "Do you ever wonder why people just gravitate toward these confined spaces full of people, big cities? there is so much room out here and we all just huddle up together in these places because there's other people there." On the road today it was a haze of blunt smoke, steve miller band, and the loud crunching of kettle chips.  We stopped at an arby's restaurant in Elko, nevada, and the lady at the drive thru didn't seem to pumped on our 30 dollar order full of items from the dollar menu. While she was unenthusiastically stuffing ketchup into our bag, we noticed a tattoo of cannibus leaves behind her ear. As she handed us our order, my buddy slipped her a nug and said thank you for the kind service. Then, I'll be damned,  her face lit up like a christmas tree. Hope her night got better out in that apocalyptic wasteland roast beef shack. I'll keep my fingers crossed for ya.  Almost through  wendover, Nevada. The last city in the Pacific time zone. I will have to say goodbye to my beloved time zone and enter a place where I have no clue what comes on tv and what time.  It terrifies me. Here comes utah.

I had fallen asleep in utah and woke up just outside of laramie, wyoming. I saw the sun rise across and endless backdrop of grassy hills, and it made me think of how bad the indians must have had it, waking up in this barren place every morning and fighting off the stinging cold just to survive. We drove into cheyenne and I eagerly got out of the car to stretch my legs. I was immediately reminded about the broken fly on my pants by a cold gust of wyoming chill rushing my balls like an ice cold blow dryer. My sack felt like a can of coors light with the mountains at peak blueness. Welcome to middle america, enjoy the icy balls. Thanks, wyoming.

A couple blunts later, I awoke in the great state of nebraska, to cloudy skies and foghat playing on the radio. Just as the weather took a turn for the worse and started pouring, we looked across the highway and saw a fatality on the oncoming side. Someone's car looked like a pancake, with no ambulances or fire trucks yet on site, and a police man kicking football sized pieces out of the road shaking his head. Rough luck. We continued at warp speed through the corn husker state, and to my motherfucking surprise, saw not one ear of corn.  What a wash. We just passed fort kearney, and it wasn't nearly as pixellated as I remembered it from playing oregon trail. What a pleasant surprise. On goes the ride toward iowa.