South dakota

Got into rapid city on sunday afternoon, and setup in a decent size club, but just as we were sound checking, some emo dude who looked like ryan seacrest started bitching about the promoter not paying enough to rent the venue, so they were  shutting it down before it even started.  I inquired to see what the problem was, and indeed this noob promoter didn't pay the venue enough money, and he didn't promote enough to have a lot of people coming, so we quickly assessed the situation and decided that it would be optimal to get paid and dip out, but the promoter was so sad about the financial loss that he wanted us to play at his house. Sure, no problem, I don't like taking money for nothing, but I gotta tell you, it sounded great to just cut at that point.  We decided, however, to oblige the fella and rolled all the way out to the bumfuck gambling town of Deadwood SD, the same town that wild bill hickock was shot to death and home to all types of old western folklore.  We got there, and again, were told there would be no music, for some reason, but instead smoke countless blunts and got to know a handful of people in homeboy's garage.

Again, it was the same thing; good people just like you and I, stuck in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, just looking to have a good time to no avail. I sympathized, in that place, although the black hills seem to be a much more liberal area of south dakota due to the biker influence. 

While in the garage socializing with good people, the promoter kept chiming in about a million reasons his show didn't succeed. No scene there, lack of venues, no Ins, etc. We then offered MUCH helpful advice, and even showed this guy where to find parties in his own fucking town. He just kept shrugging off the good advice like a shitty restauranteur dodging the honest advice from Gordon Ramsey. He knew the recipes. His recipes were good. He couldn't figure out why people weren't eating his food, and making up irrelevant excuses as to why there was nobody in his restaurant. Take a recipe from some chefs, motherfucker, there's a hair in your soup, and you need to stop adding salt. That's all I have to say about that.

Effortlessly hundreds of dollars heavier, we set sail in the morning for Mount Rushmore. Carl and I bullshitted about how he could bring outdoor events to south dakota that would rule (i agree, shit is untapped out there!)  and made it through a couple of white grape flavored blunts as we wound our way up through the snaking roads of the black hills. In my head,all I could see were past images of old bearded prospectors breaking their backs with pickaxes to find tiny gold nuggets that would later become the jagged horseshoe nugget rings on the chubby fingers of old men sitting at card tables across this great country.

As we wound up the back of the highest peak, we swung across  to the left and I got my first peak at one of the greatest honkey cracker monuments of freedom that this country has to offer, and I took it all in…. or maybe it was smoke, I don't know. I will say this, it's something to see. George washington gazing across the prarie, looking over his vast hemp fields, and his 3 amigos co signing his cold steel hundred mile stare. Roosevelt  bore an astonishing resemblance to Ned Flanders. I felt like a hairy american winning machine. "we're gonna kick you indians out and blast our faces onto your motherfucking mountain!" now that's freedom!

We said our prayers, ate our vitamins, pumped iron in front of all 4 presidents, and bid farewell to mount rushmore, headed for the badlands of South Dakota. In my town, badlands is a buff australian firefighter themed gay bar, so I was wary, but when we arrived, I was absolutely blown away. It looked like mordor and the grand canyon combined. An ocean floor from 4 million years ago that sprawled for as far as the eye can see. I felt like I was among sacred geometry. 

Immediately, we climbed to the highest point we could find and blasted off on DMT. I peered down over 30 miles of jagged valley as the earth showed me its creation and how it formed, and showed me sacred symbols, and told me a story in patterns. I felt the mighty wind on my back, heard the birds singing their song across the empty valley, and then sobered up and realized that my fatass was standing on a motherfucking cliff a thousand feet up and 2 feet from certain death. It was epic, I felt compelled to stay silent, and it was the most alive Ive felt in ages. I will never forget that moment for as long as I live. Easily one of the most beautiful places I've ever set my own two eyes on. and now…. we're out. Thank you, south dakota, you are beautiful and I hope to be back again one day.