HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!

Although we are on the trail and it is not January, it feels like the new year. We gathered around the wagon an shared good times we had experienced. B-Ball games galore, rocking out to the cowboy westerns and singing songs on the range. I tell you the good times keep on coming.

We ran into the cowboy a couple of days ago and he was three sheets to the wind. He said to keep on keepin on so we did.

It has been a while sine we posted but that is what happens when you get on the trail. You get busy and get in a rhythm. What a weird word rhythm. It is spelled funny and well it is funny.

like this picture:



Funny!

Well here is what i am saying, Guys are dicks but women can be just plain evil.

Fraud is bad, and beef is a hell of a singer.

Juice get this wagon moving for crying out loud.

I feel like i am barley moving.

Profile #4

Neal Anderson:

Neal was a child raised by aborigines of the NBA. We have no idea who his real parents were but we found him working on his 3-point shot on the side of a barn in ghettos of Missouri. We befriended because we knew we needed a thug on our side: Someone who could strike fear in the hearts of people.

After getting to know Neal a little more we were shocked to find out he was white. That is right, although his skillz that pay the billz would prove otherwise he is white. Chief Slim and Jason were in a wrestling match about whose tin can phone was better and Neal kept running up to them (while they were pinned) and smacking them on the head...It was the funniest thing to see.

But I am getting off track. He is baller of the group. Not quite the shot-caller (holler) nor does he ride an impala, but he has strong moral and keeps spirits high. We have deemed him the chef on the trip. So far we have eaten a lot of cereal and grilled cheese sandwich's (which are wonderfully delicious!).

When we asked him if he wanted to travel west with us he said..."Big gulps huh...sweet I'll come!" His ambitions include figuring out the probability we will survive this trip, starting a league called CBT (i hear he might get MadDog Tannen to make an appearance, maybe even Billy the Kid) finding a little lady to settle down with in hopes to create his own starting 5 basketball team and bringing water awareness across the great lands.

As this trip unfolds we hope many things from Neal besides his exquisite cooking talents and high morals, like a b-ball game with the natives where he drops 50pts. 15 ast. and 30 rbs. We would have to change his name to hot. Hi Hot how are you. His answers would come in the form of dribbles. 1-dribble yes, 2-dribbles no, cross-over maybe, behind the back I PITY THE FOO!

Time to go

I awoke frozen. The only thing I could move was my right pinky. Slowly I curled it and in front of me was a flame with a face. It hissed at me and proceeded to enter my body through my chest. I arched up on my back and nearly fell from my bed. Still paralyzed I attempted to yell for help only to have an empty whisper escape my mouth.

That's when Rob appeared and like a rubber band pulled to full tension I snapped back up and exhaled 8 oz of stomach acid.

The radio blasted Yankee Doodle and we finally decided it was time to continue on the trip.

Man, Fort Kearney was fucked up.

Captains log

Captains log. We have lost track of time and although weeks have passed we have not moved. After the squirrel incident we have all gone frozen by our surroundings.

Anther wagon passed us by last night, or was it last week. I think somewhere along the trail we entered into a time warp where we stand still but life keeps going on. I turned my head last night and here is what happened:

I could feel a breeze flowing over my face. I looked out in the horizon and the tumbleweed was not tumbling; just sitting there.

I looked forward and a mogwai was in front of me asking me if i had HBO or MTV. I am unsure what each of these things are, but was more freaked out by this cute little cudley dude just talking with me. I mean the words were very raspy and he seemed friendly, but something said don;t get him wet.

As I was about to pet the mogwai i was transported to a 3D land of 64bit fun. Some guy named mario was challenging me to a game called tennis. There was a maharishi there playing a guitar singing "Life on Mars" and i had a montage of our trip thus far.


Well I did end up winning the tennis match 3-2, but after I won i looked left and there was wagon. I shook my head and decided to walk around. As i got i out fell flat on my face. It turns out that someone put our wagon up on some rocks and although the wheels were moving we were not. Hopefully we can get off this rock and back on the trail.

Another fort

As we were getting closer to another fort we decided to make our own fort as a way to earn some extra cash along the side. We needed materials and the only thing we had was beer cans.

I am not sure where Australia is buy the Fosters was certainly tasty. We left the fort to be ran by some chipmunks Chief slim met along the way. Slim spoke chipmunk it sounded like "squeak squeaken, squeaker squeak..." I thought he was crazy but sure enough we received 5 cents from the Pony express yesterday and an acorn.

I think that paying him is way out of line but if it brings in the money we will have to make do. In fact it has been about a week since we heard from him and if you have seen this squirrel please let us know.

Profile #3

Profile #3: Chief Brent "Slim" Schleicher

"I have nothing to write about me, write something for me. I am not creative. And i have to clean some sand out of my groinal region..."- Chief Slim

Well the leaders will have to write this one for the Chief. Chief Slim was added to the trail for a variety of reasons. 1) He is an indian and knows the land. 2) He is an indian and knows the land. 3)"write something stupid"-Juice. 4)He knows the tall tale of Injine Roni. z) He is awesomeness and this trip would be a bust without having him on the trail.

We found Slim in Missouri with his bride to be and she was looking for a new job since the little one would be coming in the next couple of years and the current job did not have a proper childcare plan. When the opportunity came for a trip out west and a way to start a new life Chief Slim jumped on board.

We looked over his resume and we were highly impressed. He had a bachelors degree from the Mystic Lake in slot machines, a grad degree in something called a computer (we think this is a slang term for the peace pipe a sacred object of the tribes) and he knows how to put the food down. He took down 13 people in a people pie eating contest and they were about 50 pies behind him so we had to take him. We also heard that he can chug a mean beer and figured this guy would be good to have on the trip.

We must also mention his size. After the pie eating contest we saw Chief Slim walk out and get called something like pepperoni something-rother. He proceeded to wrestle the @#$%^&U*I( out of these guys. There must have been 20 guys looking to take him down and in the end there was only one...and it was him.)

It is safe to say Slim is the muscle of the group. When something is not going right all we have to do is put the big guy out there and he will rip them a new one. Among other things he is looking to find on the way to Oregon is the Chicks. I think i heard him say that Chicks dig guys who go on wagon trails west with 4 other dudes. He then proceeded to say i am a golden god while standing on top of the wagon. He may have had some peyote or just a little drunk from all the food.


Regardless here is a drawing so you can get an idea of how big he is, as well as this shoe he traded away for a Billy the Kid trading card.

The ghost of Andy haunts us!!

I do not believe in ghosts. I do not believe in ghosts. Repeat with me. I do not believe in ghosts.

I have to keep telling myself this because some of the recent events we've encountered have been extraordinary. It's documented that we visited a grave site recently. The five of us couldn't stop laughing at Andy's tombstone. We spent the entirety of the afternoon conjuring up funnies related to the inscription of "Here lies andy, peperony and chease".

BIG MISTAKE.

As we left the grave site we headed back towards the original trail. After 45 minutes of travel we circled back to where we started. It was one of those unexplainable oddities that's straight out of a horror film. It was getting dark and we had travelled most of the day as we approached the grave site. We decided to call it a night and staked down.

BIGGER MISTAKE.

In the middle of the night a fire broke out in the wagon. We lost 4 sets of clothes and lost and/or damaged our spare wagon parts. You might think, get the F*%& out of dodge, but silly me, I just blamed Jason and his pyrotechnics.

The following morning we studied carefully our path of choice and set off. Again, we circled back to where we started. To make a long story short, we were starting to panic. Ok, now its time to get the F*%& out of dodge.

But wait, the never ending circle lasted the entirety of day #2. We sat down and planned our escape. We were rather exausted both mentally and physically so we decided we'd take an entire day to set up defenses against Andy and this haunted marsh while planning our escape. Day 3 went by very slowly as none of us got much sleep. Our general health has dropped to a level of "Fair" as suggested by Neal. But what would he know? He's only a doctor. Or maybe he just plays one on TV. Not sure really.

Day Four we started by offering peace and food to the ghost of Andy. About mid day the skies cleared up and we took it as a sign to leave. We thought we were in the clear. We finally got to our original trail and Andy sent us one more goodbye gift.

One of our wheel's broke on the wagon. Good thing that fire wrecked our spare parts!