somethign happened on the way to Oregon

I think i got a rash from making it in the bushes.

Detour

We have taken quite the detour in the last month. We ventured off the trail to a man who told he he could give us an amazing trip through reality without moving. So we said what is the catch? He said nothing, i am here to help in you getting to where you want to go.

So we said OKAYYYYYYYYYY (no HJs were offered, nor were the BJs or ZJs or GJs, if you don't know what a GJ is then you can;t afford it).

Before we knew it were in Lutsen, MN skiing and snowboarding down hills with snow, Winning out the Basketball year by winning 3 of the last 4 games, and having 3 way ties in Bohnanza. There was a moment when all awoke due to this horrific smell of people farting everywhere and POP we woke up. We had been sitting there for a month dreaming of traveling when really we lost time.

So we are still stuck on the trail without anywhere to go, we reek of old fart smells and we have resorted to posting about HJs, BJs, Zjs and GJs and those did not even happen.

As we awake i am unsure if the trail will continue as while we were out things got crazy busy, only the leader will let us know what the decision will be. Maybe i will walk the trail of tears...

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.