Day 2-3 - Blogabond

Night driving. It's all ink and stars. Bright white dwarf stars red shifted and dancing through curved space-time. There were Symmetric motorcycle cops waiting at the top of a hill as I exited Malibu. Oh, the patent leather tight laced melange of paranoia and sex. I'll be the first to amid that a good latex cop outfit and hot body poured into it can give me chub.

Was exhausted and making more and more mistakes of attention and fine motor control by Buellton. Stopped at the fine Marriott and tucked into some delicious wifi.
I don't have a tea problem, it's a habit and I can quit whenever I like. The only problem here is that my cup is empty, damnit.

Here's that shirt I picked up at the Crow Bar restaurant near Laguna. It's a bit thin and would be great in a wet t-shirt contest, probably not on me though.

This is the California highway I remember from my youth. The pale yellow grass and deep dusty green trees. I passed by a few wineries. Their rows and columns were not properly aligned to the road for the optimal effect, but I shall describe it in hopes that you recall your own similar experience of delight when the lines are right.
It's after hour 3 on a drive that's not quite half done. If you're lucky you've brought plenty of music, but still your immobile human body protests. Green, yellow, gray, blue, it all mushes together. Then there's an orchard or a factory plot and your view goes all Phillip Glass. The lines of vegetation are perfectly perpendicular to your sight and they thrum away into perspective. They look like the thin legs of some giant running along side your car. Maybe it's only one that you saw, maybe you were lucky and you passed by seemingly endless plots of cabbage and oak and apple trees and strawberries and bare tilled fields. That's what I looked for as a child on long road trips. The running thin green giant.

written by

kleer001 on November 18, 2008 from Buellton, United States

from the travel blog: Tijuana to Vancouver

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