Cadillac Ranch

Mexican radio stations join the dial now in a major way.  I’m getting closer to California, thank god.  I get hungry again and what the fuck do you do when you are hungry in Texas?  Eat a gigantic fucking steak.  I pull off in Amarillo at the Big Texas Steakhouse and attempt to do myself proper.  A half dozen fat homely waitresses in Daisy Duke’s and cowboy hats and boots whirl around the weary looking truckdrivers.  Deer and steer heads cover the wooden walls.  It looks like a place of worship for a cult.  I sit there waiting for my feast and the only question that is burning up my brain is simply “Can an entire city of 175,000 people smell like cow shit?”  Unfortunately the answer is yes.  Yes, the whole city can, yes the whole county can, yes the whole fucking state can.  Texas smells like shit.  As I soak up the remaining cow blood with my dinner rolls I ponder the millions of empty calories I’ve consumed on this journey.  Fuck it, it’s a road trip, you’re gonna eat like shit, its fucking inevitable.  With the steak and beers up in me I roll out to snap off a few of the good old “Cadillac Ranch”.  Yep, 10 caddies half buried in the middle of nowhere.

Popularity: 1% [?]

Related posts:

1. Dead Santa
2. Creep Doggin’
3. My Ghetto
4. Quantum Gallery
5. Overpass