It was snowing. A lot. I was in Wyoming edging my way into South Dakota. We were heading for Deadwood (yeah that town actually exists… it’s not just on Netflix) to stay at a lil ol house this lil ol lady originally from Long Island had turned into a hostel.
I see the ‘Welcome to South Dakota’ sign through the thick quilt of snowfall as my car tiptoes across Wyoming and since I always gotta pee, I pull over to pee… Cause I gotta pee. So it’s snowing a fuckin blizzard outside and I’m just peein while simultaneously taking a pic of the ‘Welcome to South Dakota’ sign as the snow is runnin down my neck cause I take pics of shit like that. So we stay at that hostel I was tellin you about and I make ten million cups of chamomile cause I just quit smokin cigarettes and now my nightly routine of lighting a cigarette and planning my life out is all outta balance so I’m makin my tenth pot of chamomile that night while my homie Eric is right next to me. He decided to join me on my road trip from LA to NY but fly back once we got to Minneapolis.
Anyway, I upload a sketch to Instagram for social media validation then go back to reading The Intelligent Investor by Benjamin Graham then some dude name *&^&@ DMs me on Instagram and says
“Do I know you? Have you ever thought about doing music posters? I love your artwork.”
It’s the dude I did PR for last year at SXSW… we very CLEARLY knew each other. So I’m like
“yeah dude I did your PR for SXSW last year.”
“Ooohhhhh shiiitttt that’s right I’m so sorry I meet soooooo many people.”
Whatever “no worries. When you need this drawing?”
He says he books a TON of bands (which mind you, I ALREADY KNOW CAUSE HE WAS MY CLIENT) and needs one poster by tomorrow. He said he had minimal money— when someone says they got minimal money that’s code for I’m in debt— but I think to myself, fuck it… No one’s ever offered to pay me to draw shit before so I accept his offer and draw this pic of a man in a graveyard crying and his tears turn into this salty lake and there’s a woman at the bottom of the salty lake and she’s drowning. Well, she’s dead. She already drowned in the tears of the man in the graveyard. I came up with that idea cause the name of the single of the band the dude was booking, the name of their single was called ‘breathless’.
Anyway I was startin to feel sick, probably from peeing in front of the Welcome To South Dakota Sign during the snow storm and I rush the pic for homeboy and when I sent it his way he didn’t get back to me till the morning when he was like
“yo can you fix the girl?”
Which basically means ‘this shit sucks can you draw a new picture?’ so point is that’s how I got the drawing for this post…
ANYYYWWAAAYYYY I make it to my homegirl in Minneapolis, GLily, who I met on Twitter. She’s a stripper. But she also works at this funeral home. Stripper by night mortician by day.
So I get to her apartment in St. Paul, well, I get to this funeral parlor… And on top of the funeral parlor is her apartment. So I call her from the street corner of the funeral home and I’m like
“Yo. I’m here”
and she comes out and gets us and takes us inside and cooks some chicken and introduces us to her roommate, the funeral director chick, and then she makes Eric and I comfy and says
“You wanna see downstairs?” She was talkin about the actual funeral home thingy part of the house.
Eric says yes. I’m thinkin not really. She says there might be a dead body so I say I don’t wanna see no fuckin dead body. But I walk downstairs anyway to this massive insane funeral parlor that’s beautiful and it has a chapel and it looks haunted and it’s all decorated nice with crazy amounts of expensive coffins and decor and all this shit. Then we get to these refrigerator lookin thingies.
“Lemme check to make sure there’s no dead people in here”, gLily’s roommate says. “Yup. You’re all good.”
So I peek into this creepy room and—
“Uhhh… Is that a real baby?”
There was a doll face down on the doctor bench lookin thingy.
She walks back in and says “ohhhhh…” And closes the door. “I’m so sorry about that.”
“THAT WAS A DEAD BABY?!?!?”
I was scarred. Back upstairs I went.
Anyway gLily is about to go on tour with Scarface, this rapper that was famous in like the 90’s and so she’s gotta get her shit together and she’s a funeral home director by day and a stripper by night like I said so I had to bounce a few days later.
I was supposed to go to Chicago. And I did. I found this Airbnb for $20. But did I end up staying there??? Uhhhh no. I get to south side Chicago and decide to get the motherfucking fuck outta there.
But I gotta pee. Ugh. My damn dick and it’s damn pee…
So I peed in my Starbucks cup cause I always gotta pee but it was only a Grande and I had to clip my stream short and dump the pee out my car door then put the cup up back by my dick and let stream two keep goin but I spilled some on my jeans and hands by accident in the process and then felt nasty as shit and tossed it out my car and drove like a madman outta chi-town through Gary Indiana and message that girl from Airbnb:
‘Oh shit! Funny story! I’m actually going to Columbus Ohio! Thanks anyway!’ Lol.
So anyway I’m smart enough to know not to go anywhere near Gary Indiana, so I make my way to a town called Merrillville but I’m not so sure if I’m far enough way from Gary yet but I’m tired as fuck and wanna pull off so I go to the combination Pizza Hut Taco Bell and get some Pizzahut cause that’s all I could find and pull into the parking lot of this Econo Lodge and then-
There are two black tinted windowed cars facing each other talkin to each other through the drivers side window. It looks like either a cop stakeout or a drugdeal. They sure as fuck weren’t cops.
So I pull in all sketch cause now I don’t wanna cause a scene and AS SOON AS I pull past the Yukon Denali (one of the sketch-ass cars), it pulls right behind me all creeper status-like.
Then these Hispanic kids hop out of ANOTHER car on the other end of the parking lot and start flagging me down as if to say ‘help’!!! SOS!!!
WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!
Then the Yukon parks RIGHT NEXT to the Hispanic kids and they both watch me like they’re in on it together or somethin.
That’s when I put my shit into gear and got the fuck on outta that damn parking lot and hopped on I-65, with pee on my hands and the grease from my Pizza Hut pizza all shlopped over my wheel, which now i’m drivin with my knees so I don’t spill the pizza sauce everywhere and I head to Indianapolis and stopped off at this hick town and slept at a Holiday Inn Express.
I woke up and grabbed my plant (I been traveling with my plant– a Peace Lily) and I threw away all my dirty tissues cause now I’m full blown sick and I hit up everyone in my life that I was supposed to stop by and see on my way to New York and said “yo. I’m sick as fuck.”
So I try to make it from from just north of Indianapolis to NY but by New Stanton PA I feel like Ima die so I pull off and get a room at the Days Inn.
I had never seen so many fat people working at hotel counters in my life by the way. Fat people everywhere. It’s insane. Anyway this fat woman assigns me a room and I walk in with my plant and immediately start coughing.
It smells like shit and the place is a fuckin dump. So I kindly pack my car back up and grab my plant and go back to the front desk and say
“Is everything okay” the fat chick says to me…
“I can put you in a different room?”
“What’s wrong with your room?”
So that was that.
Then I get to somerset PA and find a Quality Inn. Thank God this one is nice. That’s where I am right now actually. It’s 4:47AM and I’m waiting till breakfast is served in the lobby at 6AM cause I’m mad hungry.
But anyway after I checked in with another obese woman at the hotel desk, I head to Subway for a sandwich. Then on my way back, I get lost. I think I’m in some back lot parking lot but really I’m on mud.
I pile drive through the mud to get back to the road and BOOM
stuck in the mud.
Called triple aaa and was stuck in the mud for an hour.
Now I’m here.
Then I got mud in m’tires like from My Cousin Vinny and the car started shimmying on the highway and I had to swerve my ass over to scrape the mud from out the inside my tire and now I’m at Starbucks in Long Island.
The Day I Gave Ryan Gosling My Autograph