Human Made Ridiculousness

I took off from St. Louis and started driving. In about an hour I saw a billboard that said "Would you like to see the worlds largest rocking chair?" Why yes, yes I would! So I drove 10 miles out of my way and got to see one of the best man made attractions ever. If you don't believe me check this shit out!


Totally worth it! Back on the road I figured out that I would be driving directly through Branson, Missouri. If you don't know what Branson is all about think Wisconsin Dells on crack. There is one main road filled with weird attractions. There is a large scale Titanic ship just chillin' in a parking lot, a wax museum, freak shows, everything you would want to spend 30 bucks. So of course I was going to stop. The real question was what is going to be the most absurd thing to stop at. Very early on I found it. The Hollywood Wax Museum!

The stop let me hang out with some beautiful women. I tried chatting this one up but she was pretty quiet in her response.


So I went to the biggest womanizer I know to ask for tips....


He didn't have much to say. So I decided to move on. The weird thing is that they had a bunch of movie characters. But their movie choices were strange. Like this one:

Really? Nic Cage makes sense. But you choose Ghost Rider?!?! Really?!?!

I know when I think of Jackie Chan or Owen Wilson I think of the movie Shanghai Noon! Such a great flick.

What really surprised me was how life like they made things. Look at how real Donald Trumps hair piece looks in this wax figure.


Luckily they saved the best for last. Making sure no one was around me I spent some time with one of the better actors. Someone that makes me feel like I'm the king of the world!


Oh Branson.... I love you so. But only really three hours at a time. After this I left for the Ozarks, which would later be derailed by rain. Duh Duh Duuuuuh!

The City Museum

My last stop in St. Louis was the City Museum. I found the address and set off arriving at the destination around 4:20. Which strangely was a very appropriate time to get there. This was no museum. This was a stoner's dream gym. I walked up to the gate and asked to pay admittance. The lady informed me that unfortunately the museum was closing in 40 minutes and that I should come back in the morning. I then informed her that I won't be even near the city tomorrow so back off and let me in! She was nice enough to cut my admission in half and told me that if I do anything I need to hit up the "Art City" and the "10-story slide."

I felt like a contestant in great amazing race. I was running around searching for clues. What is art city? A City made of Art or Art of a City? I had so many questions, so little time. I found Art City. It was a bunch of weird stuff clobbered together. It was pretty interesting. But the coolest thing was a fully functional giant rock 'em sock 'em robots machine! I wanted to play but I would have been about 2 feet taller than anyone else in line. Plus time was limited!




Not wanting to delay I quickly set out to find the 10-story slide. But the building only had stairs up till the third floor. Using my amazing deductive reasoning I figured this slide had to be on the 10th floor! See how I did that? So I approached a man wearing a city museum T-shirt and asked him where I could find the said slide. He told me to go to the elevators. I told him I got here 5 minutes ago and need to see everything because I am leaving on the rest of my trip in the morning. So he told me to follow him and walked out the exit. Thinking I had been duped into leaving the museum I was starting to get nervous. But he looked at the security guard, thumbed back at me, and said "Special request." And we were off. We got in an elevator with a bunch of other people, pushed floor ten (aha!), and then another secret button. When we got to the tenth floor he told everyone to get out, but then held me back. We get to go to the secret floor! So he started telling me about the building. A very rich man bought the building and started outfitting it. I asked why he wanted it to be so weird and he informed me that the man was pretty into The Wacky Tabacky, Lady Ganga, Gongo Bongo, Mary Jane. If you aren't hip to the cool those are all words I heard, or made up, for marijuana. It suddenly made sense why it felt like I had stepped into a real life Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory. Turns out all the material in the building is found art in St. Louis. Definitely a place that when I get back to St. Louis is somewhere that I will visit and thoroughly explore. So sit back and enjoy a couple of pictures that I to to try and catch the atmosphere.


All of the wire tubes you can CLIMB THROUGH and explore the things it leads to, which includes a Bus, a Plane, a trolley car, and a giant Praying Mantis.


Totally normal. Just a giant squid like thing. Would you like to slide down this slide?

This is one of the first things you see when you come in the building. It really sets the mood.

Tree. Check. Elephant head. Check. Silver streamers. Check. Do you really want to tell me someone wasn't high when they put this exhibit together?

The Sculpture Garden

My friend who used to live in St. Louis told me about a sculpture garden in the middle of the city that I needed to check out. Figuring out that I was planning on walking right by it I stopped by to give myself a little culture and look at art. I had a much more fun time than that. Here are some of my favorites!

Now it took me awhile to figure out that these were rabbits... It must be abstract art. But once I figured it out I just fell in love with the big fat one sitting in the background.

This one made me laugh. So obviously phallic. The dude doesn't even have arms!!! But he has a dangle! This reminded me off a story my sister told me about my nephew. He walks up to her one day (he's three (four now)) and says "Mommy! Boys are sooo lucky! We have penises aaand butts!" My kind of man! And I agree with him. I hope this piece of art inspired many boys to make the same realization and tell their mom's about how lucky it is to be a boy.


Now with so much art and life being phallic I loved finding this piece. As a society we show how important things are to us by giving them a lot of names. You've probably heard the saying "The Eskimos have 52 words for snow." Well we have a lot of names for the penis, it seems like many testosterone fueled men like to remind everyone they have one by driving sports cars or "erecting" giant buildings. If you disagree then please tell me what the point of a cigarette boat is. So I was pleased that my favorite euphemism for the female parts was apparently on show at this scultpure garden. The Little Man in the Canoe! And it's so anatomically correct! There is the little man at the top of the boat. And what's that laying at the bottom of the boat? Why a cat of course! So I google'd popular other names for cats:

Main Entry:	cat
Part of Speech:	noun
Definition:	feline animal, sometimes a pet
Synonyms:	bobcat, cheetah, cougar, grimalkin, jaguar, kitten, kitty, leopard, lion, lynx, malkin, mouser, ocelot, panther, puma, puss, pussy, tabby, tiger, tom, tomcat

Brilliant job Jean-Michel Folon!

The Arch and the Brewpub

So there I was. 5:30 in the morning walking around St. Louis. My first stop was the Gateway Arch. I figured if I was going to be up at the butt-crack of dawn I might as well take some pictures. The arch is beautiful. But I have one problem. It's just too damn big. I have a "point and shoot" camera! Don't they understand that I can't get both the top and the bottom of the arch in ANY picture?!?! The pictures end up being just the top of the arch, or just two giant stumps sticking out of the ground! Honestly dude, how tiny is your penis?
This is the best I could do. And even then in this picture I'm laying down on a sidewalk grunting trying to get into a good position. I'm glad no one was there.

This one shows that I was there way too early. No one was around. It was really hard to get a tour!

This is a self picture of myself (redundant redundancy alert) to prove that it was myself and not a paid professional taking these pictures. I know they look professional but I'm on a budget. At the angle I had to hold this at, to take what most 21 year old drunken college girls have perfected, it got me perilously close to the "double chin zone", but I sucked my double chin up and made it out relatively unscathed.

Now under the arch they put a free museum because honestly a lot of people would be pissed if they drove hours to see an arch! The museum was quite dry and depressing. They decided to cover the ever so light topic of how we totally fucked over the Indians. Its pretty awkward to be caught standing there reading a passage about how we massacred hundreds of these folks and you suddenly realize you are subconsciously nodding along. Oops! But my favorite find was this "peace" medal. Every president made one of these and would give them as bribes ermmm.... I mean symbols of the white folks commitment to the relationship with the Indians. I would totally vote for this guy if he ran today.

Chester Arthur must have been a bad ass! Look at those mutton chops!!! I agree that no president could win in today's media storm running for office with facial hair like that. But why not grow them once you get in? Can you imagine if Ex(thank the lord!)-President Bush had grown these? Terrorist's might have actually been scared when he said "Make no mistake, the United States will hunt down and punish those responsible for these cowardly acts." Iran? They'd be I-running away from any conflict with us! (couldn't resist)

After my learning experience I decided I needed to go have a drink or four. So I went into a brewpub in the area and sat down to have lunch and get ready to watch the Germany world cup game. I started Chit-a-lit chatting with the bartender. We were talking beer and their brew operation. I was impressive! I was using phrases and words that made me sound pretty into the process. And for that I need to thank Tom the Rabbit, Beejeble, and Yellow Fever. Hopefully you all know who you are.

Turns out the bartender was actually the head brewer for the brew pub. After spending 4 hours drinking, talking about beer and the city, and watching soccer with him I asked how much I owed. He told me the only thing I owe him is to go see the City Museum. For the first time ever I talked my way out of a bar tab. My family would be so proud! And all I do is have to go learn some more...

The First Night

The time had come, my car was packed, I had said my good byes. Now was the time to hit the road. After a quick jaunt to the grocery store I decided, what's a road trip as a man by yourself if you are wearing a shirt? A true mountain man wouldn't do it, I strive to be a true mountain man. To live off my propane single burner, my car full of gas, my credit card that could buy me a hotel night anytime I needed. True mountain man-ism. So when I have a choice, shirt or no shirt. I choose no shirt!

5 minutes later the seat belt was really digging into my sunburn so I created a modern toga like apparatus and continued on. First stop, the armpit of our nation: Illinois. Illinois has only created one thing I enjoy, and that is my old roommate. And even he is trying to move away. Nothing enforces my feeling more than when I stop for my first toll. She charged me a big rig fair and ended up stealing 50 cents from me. Fuck you Illinois! You are long, boring, and now you steal? To get back at them I didn't flush when I took a dump at a rest stop. So hah! Totally kidding, I could never take a dump at a rest stop....

I got to the camp grounds at my first stop, St. Louis, around 2:45 after about a 6 hour drive. No one was there after the long weekend so I picked a camp spot and set up my tent. I have done two dry runs of this when I lived at home to make sure I didn't embarrass myself. I was a pro! Not this time, tent poles were falling apart, I couldn't get the thing to stand up correctly, I apparently decided the best place for my tent was on top of a giant pile of rocks... It was just all a mess. That turned out to be warning #1.

The plan was to see the park the first day then head into St. Louis the next day. They had a couple of hiking trails and after a delicious Lupper of chili that the coolest of cool friends made for me I decided, the mountain man that I was, that I was going to do the two mile strenuous hike. So at 4:30 I hop on my bike to ride and take off for the two miles to the trail head. I'm flying! My spirits are up, my tummy full, and I am really biking fast. Then it hits me, I haven't pedaled once. This bike to the trail head is entirely down hill.... Suddenly one of the many lessons my dad instilled on me (most of them awkward ("Son, if you get a boner at a pool just jump in")) came rushing back "what goes down must go up." I was already dreading my trip back. But the spirits were still high and I had 2 Liters of water on my back to put me at ease.

I start off on the trail sweating my ass off. This was my second shirt of the day since it was 94 degrees with a heat index of 100. I'm being very aware of stopping and taking pictures. It's one of my main goals on the trip to photo document it, which I am usually very bad at. The trail is beautiful but it is suddenly 5:30 and I am starting to freak out. You don't understand! Give me a tent, a car, and a pudgy pie maker and I got this licked. But lost in a forest?!? Without my head lamp at least? I have forgotten everything I learned! The only thing I remember is “Leaves of three, beware of me,” but I can't eat poison ivy... Quick! Are the mushrooms that grow on tree stumps ok? Could I catch a squirrel with my wit and cunning? Look, I have seen Into the Wild! I don't want to shrink to 65 pounds and die in a hippie truck. Fight or flight: I choose flight. So I just take off running. People. It is 5:45.... the sunset last night was 8:30 and it wasn't completely dark till almost 9:30. Anyone want to guess when I got back to my bike? 5:52. Needless to say I survived that one. Warning #2 that I might not be that cut out for this.

After my bike back I went to buy ice and firewood to do what I look forward to the most on this trip, sitting around a fire, making grilled food, and maybe having a beer or two. Unfortunately the gas station didn't have beer but I could still do the first two.

This camp site is one of the weirder camp sites I have ever been to. Their fire pits are a concrete slab with an iron ring around it. It feels like starting a fire on your driveway. But I went to it. Throwing all 6 months of my boyscout knowledge into the mix I set off to prove myself. Nothing... An hour and a half of fanning the embers I didn't have a single flame. Completely put off I kicked over the logs and decided to load up everything I had pulled out of my car back in. One couple even asked me if I was leaving. So I was sitting there sulking wondering how much the Hilton downtown runs per night when I notice that the kicked over logs had created an oven like situation that was burning really hot. So I rearrange things a bit and.... FLAME ON! I was so excited! I had a raging mini fire. But I was so proud. What was I proud about exactly? Maybe just my dumb luck but I was proud. Had I kicked over the logs perfectly in the right spots as a showing of my intelligent subconcious? I don't know but I was proud, so I'm sharing that with all of you. This is the raging fire I had going after almost two hours.



Not much to brag about but it signified that I could at least live! Granted I had used the entire sunday circulation for the Wall Street Journal to start it but it started! So I sat back and enjoyed it. Now I didn't have mini marshmallows to roast on my mini fire and I was to worried about putting it out to have dinner. But I was content. Until...

I decided it was time for bed and climbed into my tent. Scratch that, my SAUNA of a tent. Now I'm a Fin but even this was unbearable. What could I do? Can you go nudey at a camp ground? Shirt number three was definitely out of the running for wearing it tomorrow. So I laid, and waited, and laid. With the heat and the critters I slept from about 1 to 4 am. At 4 am I popped up like a chipper little squirrel and decided I just needed to get the hell out of there. So while the rest of the campsite slept in their RV's I went and took a shower with my headlamp, my boxers, and my soap. The one positive on the first full day were the showers. My shower had a double shower head! Deluxe! I don't really understand why though. The top shower head came out of the wall at my shoulders which put the other shower head directly in front of my... Yoohoo! It was quite awkward. But that area is at least nice and rinsed off.

At 5 am I had my rain fly on my tent and was driving into St. Louis to take pictures of the Gateway Arch when the sun rose.

Day 1 complete. And all that really happened is I'm a bit tired, a bit hungry, and about 10 pounds lighter from my sauna tent.

The next beginning

It's official. I am homeless. Granted this is by choice not necessity but I am still homeless... I leave for my camping extravaganza on Tuesday bright and early. Hitting the road with a car full of stuff and a dream. That dream: to see the worlds biggest ball of twine, or largest stump, or largest stamp collection. I don't know what it will be but it will be the largest collection of it ever.

So to celebrate the fact that I'm going to be living in a nylon tent for two months I decided the beard had to go. It was large, scratchy, and sleeping was a drag. I shaved it off without a moments hesitation only to realize I now look like I'm 18. I have even started to get carded at places that never used to card me. On top of it all I recently bought thick plastic framed glasses which I thought looked cool, hip, happening. The problem? With no beard and a buzzed head the glasses make me look like a slightly thinner Drew Carey.

I decided to get my feet wet on this whole camping thing by going to the beach with a good friend. What says sleeping on the ground, showering in the lakes, and fending off aggressive animals with a stick and a can full of rocks more than sitting on a sandy beach with a dog, a towel and a cooler full of beer. We show up at noon, I decide why wear sun screen when I will be outside every day for the next couple of months. Lets work on this mountain man tan. So I laid down and had beer one, feeling great, a nice breeze, sand hadn't reached those unfortunate places yet. Life was good. Beer 2: The sun had warmed my skin, I was talking to my best friend on the phone, petting the dog. Ah what life on the road will be like.... Beer 3: Falling asleep, just want to close my eyes and live in the moment. Beer 4 and a nap latter: I haven't put sun screen on and it has been 5 hours. I just woke up on my towel from a dream. This can't go bad can it? Turns out 5 hours in the sun for a math nerd who sits in doors is a lot more sun than required. Even as a color blind gentleman I can tell parts of me are lobster red. Hopefully the color doesn't make the bears hungry..

And I'm off for real. I hope to be writing much more often now but access to the internet will be harder to come by. Expect a couple blog posts in a row because I plan to write them on my computer then post them once I find a cool coffee shop. I can't wait! Please help me out with ideas by posting random comments that will make me laugh, think, or smile. Or just call. The biggest ball of twine can wait for a good friend....