“Actually…this is kind of my speed.”
It was just yesterday
Where you no doubt read
Of a Midwestern trip
Made by [REDACTED]
As he drove ‘cross the plains
He trembled with feer
He’d made it to Iowa
But had run out of beer.
And as he drove in his Mini
Wishing he was driving truck
He found himself in
The World’s Largest Truck Stop
So we’ll leave you know
To see what [REDACTED] saw
So we’ll finish the tale
Of how he got to…Omaha.
[REDACTED] Visits Omaha (Nebraska) (Like the Cornhuskers) (It’s in the Midwest, Alright?) (…Part 2)
Uh…why does my mouth taste like…the 1990’s?
Holy shit, did I pass out in a phone booth in the World’s Largest Truck Stop? Yup, yup I did. Hey, a note to the children reading this- never mix absinth and NyQuil. Yes, they taste pretty much the same, so you’d think it’d be a natural mixer, but you’ve never seen your fears until you have a nightmare fueled absinth and NyQuil.
Anyway, I’m pretty well rested back on the road I go.
Goddamn it, Midwest…you need to be more… not-flat. I used up my penis joke about this yesterday. But you get the idea. The fucking Midwest. You’ve got all your huge truck stops to trick us into thinking you’re more interesting than the rset of America, but I somehow doubt it.
As I’m driving through Iowa on the way to Omaha I suddenly see a familiar sight…
Holy shit! Brooklyn! In Iowa! I wonder if there are gonna be any hipsters.
…So that’s a no on the hipsters, I take it. No, don’t take me wrong, I’m already pretty goddamn taken with this place. There’s got to be, at most, 5,000 people that live here, and though they label themselves as a “Community of Flags” their Community of Flags Store pretty much is one giant American flag. I could see myself retiring here someday, if the winter’s weren’t horrible and they legalized gambling. I just wonder…well, hope rather…
Is there a bar here?
Some people might look at this and say, “Why is that boarded up building called the Front Street Tap?” An American looks at this and says, “Holy shit, I need to live at this bar.” But wait, what’s that on the door? Let’s go closer…
YES! Holy shit! You show me a bar that has a sign on its front door telling me I can’t bring a gun inside it, I show you a town that I want to start partying at. Goddamn it this is awesome.
Of course, like most beautiful things, my time in Brooklyn, Iowa had to come to an end. I mean not before I got shitfaced at this bar, content in the knowledge that no one was going to come in with a firearm. But while I was still in Iowa, the state again tried its best to show me how awesome it could be.
Listen, if you ever see an exit sign for “The Freedom Rock” and you choose not to check it out? The government is within its legal rights to sterilize you as you sleep.
Behold. The Freedom Rock. There’s not even a sign for it on the street, their mindset is, “If you’re traveling on this road at 55 miles an hour, there’s no way you can miss this.”
You know how that looks like there’s a watermark on a picture of the rock? Nope, I took that picture with a fucking camera phone. I’m not sure if that means that the artist is really good or really bad. All I know is that there’s something to be said about a giant hunk of rock being painted with an American Flag, a World War II soldier, a Revolutionary War soldier, and whatever war is represented in the middle (The Quaker Oats cereal war?)
I don’t know when this was painted…but I know that it was updated recently enough to let us know that we killed Osama Bin Laden (USA! USA!)
Sorry, I’ve always wanted to give a “Boom. Face.” to Bin Laden.
As I move along from the Freedom Rock towards Omaha, I have to stop to get Gas. And now, okay, I’ve since been told that these are pretty common in the Midwest, but you’ve got to be kidding me about the name of this gas station…
Seriously!? Why not just call it “Ejaculate and Evacuate”? Seriously, if you spelled “Kum” as “Come” we’d be about 95% less likely to view it as a semen reference, but now I’m taking a nozzle and putting it inside my car and…well you know. I’m just saying, if I spilled some gas from a Kum & Go on my fingers and used it to gel my hair, I’m pretty sure I’d be reinacting a scene from There’s Something About Mary.
Though one thing that confuses the shit out of me is…why don’t they know how to price gas in Iowa? Because here’s what the price for “Regular” gas was.
(Fucking gas prices)
And here’s how much it costs…for “Plus” higher octane gasoline.
My only guess is that they’re worse at math here than I am, in which case, I admire the shit out of them.
But now, finally…I’ve made it to Omaha. Where the Midwest’s tradition of naming stuff in ways that I’ll giggle at them continues.
Seriously!? Haha, goddamn it. I mean, I’m not even mad. I just think this is awesome. They clearly don’t give a shit. However, there are other parts to Omaha that make me take pause.
THIS IS EVERYTHING THAT I NEED! No, I’m not even joking, EVERYTHING that I will EVER need is right here. Right here. I think I’m starting to appreciate the Midwest for what it is. Yes, it’s flat, but it’s…pretty fucking American. I’d feel like AFFotD sent me here so I’d learn a lesson about how the Midwest is an integral part of the American fabric, but I’m pretty sure it’s against our bylaws to purposely teach someone something [Editor’s note- he’s right].
But let’s just say this. You go to the West Coast, or the East Coast, or hell, even Chicago? You’ll never find Masonic decals. Here?
There’s a goddamn advertisement for Masonic Decals laminated on a goddamn diner table. I’m pretty sure I haven’t lived until this moment. I had to stop by this diner because, well, they had biscuits and gravy, and it’s the only thing I can eat in the morning to treat my perennial hangover. This particular diner was right outside our Omaha AFFotD offices. We don’t worry about people breaking in because we have an interesting way to advertise it.
Inside…I don’t know why it worked out this way, but Omaha is apparently where AFFotD keeps all their acoustic guitars. Granted, some of these guitars are camouflaged and look American as shit.
And that’s pretty cool…but what I really need, and what you might have noticed in this post title… But okay, if you’re around guitars, you might not know that this is a rule, but it’s now a rule. If you’re around a guitar you need to be near a Four Loko.
Ah yes. And plus, when you’re not using the guitar? You have a handy coaster to use.
Ahh, you know what you guys? This has been a good trip. God bless Omaha. And God Bless America.
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