honorary Hose Monster:
Dear Hose Monster,
Where have you been?
California, Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma, Missouri, Illinios.
A lot has happened to the HM of late. Most importantly, I finally retired my tried and true vehicle, which I have driven since my 16th birthday, and became the proud owner of a brand spanking new Hose Monster Mobile. So pimp is my new set of wheels that I cannot possibly convey the sweetness of the Mobile, so I shan't even try. But it has all sorts of new technological advances that auto makers have started putting on their wheels, advances like power doors and windows, 4WD without getting out of the car to flip the hubs, intermittment wipers, that sort of thing. Worry not if you have not heard of such modifications in your area yet; my sources tell me that they have only started to make their way to automobile dealers across this great land.
But anyway, for a number of considerations, most importantly the fact that most of the people of this country SUCK and have no clue how to drive a car with a manual transmission, making demand for cars with stick shifts virtually non-existent, and because of the fact that I refuse to drive a car that has only four speeds and no control over the engine, I had to specially order the HM Mobile because the Cornfield dealer had not a one in his inventory, nor did anyone else around here (and for that matter, the types of cars from which I could choose seemed severely limited because most manufactureres don't even make 6-cylinder engines in a 5 speed these days. But no, I have no bitterness about this and I don't detest the fact that so many people out there don't know how to drive stick or anything. It's fine...). And because the Hose Monster parents have coolness running through their veins like alcohol, they ordered the vehicle for me and have made the purchase financially possible, when otherwise I don't know if I could have even afforded a Daewoo.
But because the units ordered the car, it arrived in my home town in Southern California, necessitating a trip out there to bask in sun, play two rounds of crappy golf, and then hit the road heading east back to the Cornfield College of Law. My trip took me on I-15 to Barstow, home of the original Del Taco, the finest fast food joint in this land of ours, then I-40 through Flagstaff, Gallup, Albequerque (where I crashed the first night in the Motel 76), Amarilllo before hoping on I-44 in Oklahoma City and up to St. Louis. From St. Louis I drove home to the Cornfield, and the Hose Mistress was very happy to see the four days of stubble on my chin.
My journey actually passed with relatively little event; I had contemplated the merits of making a side trip to Norman, OK ti watch the Sooners practice and visit a certain shoe store haunted by Kristin Mad Pony*, but after learning that Norman was not conveniently located off I-40 or I-44, I decided to pass. Not that I would have had any clue how to find the Mad Pony shoe store. Anyway, the Hose Mistress and I have decided if ever the opportunity presents itself, we may have to go shoe shopping in Norman, but those considerations must wait for another time.
So anyway, I have returned to the life of a Cornfield College of Life student, a 2L now, appearing wiser and more worldly, but really dumber, busier and longing more for a nice Hefeweizen with a hint of clove on it. Mmm.
For the record, Kristin's recent post on the trying times of sorority rush and moms of rushing girls made me laugh out loud.