The following journey on the life of Meerschol von Bulstecomint is an excerpt taken from his actual journal. Meerschol was on his way to Texas last summer and kept this record of the trip and wanted to share it with us. Over the next few issues we will continue printing the thirteen steps of how to ride a motorcycle through the summer sun with von Bulstecomint.
Apparently there is no law about wearing shoes and shirt in stores in Texas. Texas is a very big state; bigger than you might think. Check the map, man, it's big and I passed a truck today filled with hundreds and hundreds of chickens, it was insane! So many little yellow beaks, so many white feathers - ugly birds really. Boy did they look unhappy too. It's too hot for such stupid birds. I've never seen so much poultry in one place my entire life. It was scary, honestly scary. I've also passed two trucks proclaiming their contents as live fish. Apparently live fish are "All The Rage" down here, as far as tank trucks are concerned. Somewhere along the line I convinced myself that the sure cure for sun overexposure is loads of fluid and plenty of beef jerky. Something to do with the salt, no doubt.
And then it was 11:39 on a wednesday late in the month, probably the 26th or so. And that's 11:39 my time not your time. This becomes relevant later on. And I'm in Denny's and I'm not in Dallas or Austin and I'm not in Ann Arbor, oh no. I can tell you how to get where I am though. It's really not that tough if you can get around a few tough spots. More about those later. So the food is here and I have these fries and I take a bite of one and then put it down and then I can't find the one that I took a bite of so I get another one, bite it, and put it down and then it happens again, over and over forever, maybe. Maybe not though. Won't I run out of fries? Perhaps not. I figured out a way of feeding the planet once with a french fry and some calculus once but I can't remember how and I'd really rather not try.
Step One: So you're on the road. Wake up a little late and go out and notice that you back bike tire is a little flat. A little more than a little actually. So try something really fucking stupid like pumping it up with a $2.00 bicycle tire pump first to get a little air into it. Be very surprised when it works relatively well.
Step Two: Drive to the closest gas station and fill that fucker up proper. Nobody wants to have their back tire go flat on the highway at 70.
This ends this installment of an unknown Legend. Next month catch von Bulstzcomint in steps 3, 4, & 5 as he calls the wrecker.