The Pilgrimage

Hey, everybody! I’m leaving South Carolina and hitting the road. Destination: Temple University. Go Owls! Its going to be a ten hour car drive and I’m going to try and make it in one day. That means NO STOPPING, NO MATTER WHAT! I can already tell it’s going to be one wacky misadventure, so I’ll be sure to bring my trusty journal to cover the tomfoolery.



12 mins: I lost both my contacts. I don’t think it matters though, because there don’t seem to be any cars on the road. Just high-speed blurs that whiz inches by my window and scream.



1 hours, 25 mins: HA! I farted! Boy, I wish you could’ve heard it. It sounded like a cartoon! A freagin’ CARTOON!



3 hours, 39 mins: I just passed a fat guy with no shirt holding a balloon and a forty-ounce. I don’t know if this what they use for a mile marker in Virginia, but I took a left anyways.



5 hours: I’m really, really hungry and I’m running out of gas. This might not help the “no stopping rule,” becauafksajha



5 hours, 12 mins: Doesn’t matter! I flipped the fucking car! I fucking flipped the mother fucking car! Holy Shit, my dad is going to kill me! I mean, holy shit! Oh, this is awesome. Guess what? I found my fucking contacts, everybody. They apparently fell out of my eyes and onto my pants. I’ll try and put them back in so I can watch my car go up in flames. Nope! They’re all dried up. Now, my eyes are bleeding.


6 hours, 43 mins: I have hitched a ride with a trucker named “Big Tank.” He smells like onions and vodka and the interior of his rig is entirely velvet. I can’t really tell if he’s smiling at me or not because of the aforementioned blood-filled eyes,but he keeps turning up the music to an unbearable volume. I think the song is “Fruit Salad” by The Wiggles. This is the scariest moment of my life.



7 hours, 24mins: Guess what Big Tank has been hauling all this time? Midgets! Happy go lucky, gnome-like people! Apparently, they’re the band for a bunch of county fairs and Big Tank is their body guard. I’ve made friends with them by making a lot of jokes. Like, “you look like that guy from ‘Willow’”, and “someone in here smells like a midget.”



8 hours, 26 mins: I got in a fight with Larry the clarinet player. He’s such a douche. Just because I said the only person that would ever play the clarinet would be an ugly, fat midget, he has to get angry. I gave him a sugar cube to calm him down ( wee-people can’t get enough sugar. They’re like hummingbirds that way).



9 hours: Do hummingbirds die from too much sugar? Larry did.



9 hours, 34 mins: I can smell Philadelphia! And it smells like someone raped a skunk with a cigarette.



10 hours: I made it! Now I just have to talk to my roommate, move stuff into my room, learn the city, find out where my classes are, try to become friends to a lot of strangers, and decide what I’m doing for transportation now that my car is nothing but hot ash. Sounds easy enough.