and how it wouldn't be so bad after all. Somewhere in Virginia I stopped. I had been cruising through strip mall hell for hours. The sky looked like it was slashed and bleeding. And I was hungry and seriously (what the fuck was I thinking?!?) thought it would be "hilarious" to eat at a Shoney's. Anyone that can make King Crab legs taste nothing and evaporate on your tongue should be pumped full of lead.
And not a cute human being in sight. Just the saddest, fattest people in America had all congregated here to celebrate or just feed the hole in their hearts.
The wall paper was so bland I can't possibly describe what it looked like. It was just a hologram of nothingness. And the staff with the service smiles and ugly polyester humiliation outfits. I barfed King Crab legs under hideous fluorescent lights, that – after a brief stint in my stomach – looked like q-tips.
Now I am at a Best Western down the road and there's a crackhead couple fighting next door. I feel so sad suddenly.
It's probably just a chemical mess.
I'm gonna watch TV.
Over and out.