I spent the evening after thanksgiving in the wilds. By the wilds, I mean where there is no mobile phone coverage, but people still have houses there, although they don't bother to look their doors. It's ok to come home to find deer and bears sitting on the couch and knocking back some cold ones while they take turns playing guitar hero on your xbox. Still, without opposable thumbs at least they can't molest your daughter. Or something.
I went because the wilds are not very far away and because some of my acquaintances, (the Phriday Night Phun Phirst Team) come from there originally and were 'hanging out' with their highschool 'buddies'. Or at least that's what I thought. Being driven there by Not Friends, I remarked that I really had no idea where we were going and that more to the point, I hadn't told anyone else that I was going anywhere or with whom. Not Friends informed me that "that was the plan". She said we were going to meet the other acquaintance in the middle of nowhere, where they would kill me and hide the body. Then she screamed something about lights in the sky and tried to drive us off the road.
Apparently there was a meteorite and it was 'huge'. And green. It may even have been a yoofoe, but to my knowledge we escaped being probed. Though what about the missing time? And the dreams? That strange grey face hanging over me, and the sensation of being defiled. Maybe Jacko isn't really dead.
Upon arrival we witnessed music in a cafe that was also some sort of store, and saw a man who might have been a drug user, but might also just have been the victim of racial stereotyping. And drug abuse. Once bored with trying to hear the band through all the chatter of the people who had arrived late and decided to make up for not listening by clapping and whooping at the end of songs, we went to someone's house to spend quality time in their cabin. The journey from the house to the cabin involved riding in the back of a pickup and also some unnecessary posturing by the residents with a shotgun.
"Is it loaded?"
"Just with buckshot".
Once we'd reached the cabin and in the process succeeded in not getting perforated by lead pellets or being thrown from the back of a speeding vehicle ("hang on here it gets bumpy" is advice you should always take), we started setting fire to things. So as to be warm. Because it was bloody freezing. Apparently black widows like to hang out in log piles, which is something you might like to know before you help people to carry firewood in Freedom. Then some of us wandered away from the cabin and engaged in scent marking amongst the trees, before coming back to refuel.
In summary I had a great time and saw an outstanding shirt.
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