OK. Seven days into the tour and we’ve barely said hello. What a couple of ingrates, you’re thinking, and of course you’re right.

Where to begin? Things have been fantastic thus far, almost eerily so. This particular tour is structured like one of those excercycle programs at the gym, with eleven minutes of warmup followed by eighteen minutes of strenuous, thigh-busting action, finishing up with a fifteen day period of spiraling alcoholism and despair.

I’m poring over my notes and remembering that my parents tend to check this section of the site from time to time, so I’m afraid a lot of what’s happened so far is going to have to be edited out in the name of decency.

For instance:

-The time Chellam and I sat down with a bottle of “Truckers Luv It” pills to see how many we could eat before our hearts started skipping beats.

-The time we took turns throwing rocks at each other’s mouths to see who could chip the most teeth.

-The hitchhiker we killed and ate.

On a more serious note, Misha’s challenge from our last trip to Oklahoma is once again on the table: free drinks for the rest of the tour if I can run down and put my hand on a live skunk.

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