Written March 31, 2023

A non-embellished recount of our trip to pick up a pug, titled: My Trip to Wyoming… Wait, Utah?!

Unlike the movie Stand By Me, which is a journey to see a dead body, it wasnt the climax of our trip to Utah.
Instead, we still had a mini blizzard to condend with before I could sumbit to my nerves, and full bladder.
Before seeing the recently deceased man who’s side face was splattered into the ground, i drove through several vortexes over 100 miles with 60-80 mph gusts while it was snowing. After the turbulence from the vortex, I slid, like an olympian figure skater, up and down windy roads that were completely black and shiny like it was newly pressed.
However, I was teased into a sense of false security after passing Rawlins and seeing their blue-collar kingdom of lights and witnessing clouds being born from the mountain sides surrounding the city of Cheyenne.
Cureently, Im sitting in an IHOP parking lot, writing this reveting account, ready to slide into the vehicles rear with Blake and a blanket with the intention of decompressing while in a fetal position. I hope the Pug Rescue employee has the same tenacity we do to meet us in this city of Ogden because we still have to summon the courage to drive back. Most of all, I’d like at least a day in bed to scream, cry, and shake with enthusiasm. That is to say, Im especially hopeful that we will see Data once again.

Q&A:
By the way, how did I know he was recently deceased? I had to drive around his feet which were flung a shot putter’s distance forward. The police had their priorities, and I imagine collecting his feet was not on their list just yet.

How did it happen? It looked like he was flown out of his car window after rear ending a semi. You could see the drama of it all as his body was still animated as though he was resisting the impact, but sadly the force was too great.

Add’l, you didn’t ask, im going to share:
I pee’d in a tin can at most of our stops to get gas. One can was never enough. “Fill, pour out, repeat” quickly became a routine that had compounding levels of satisfaction at each subsequent step of “pour out”. I feel like there’s a name for this feeling represented as an equation 樂 1+1=2+2=4+4=8…

Man in ihop wearing a puffed winter coat reading a newspaper that looks like he’s named pee air with his well trimmed moustache has silver colored above knee shorts that match his hair. Its like a giant slushy outside and its still coming down.