Forget Jack Kerouac and his Beat Generation Road Trip, this week we’re dusting off and loading up the PIGmobile for a road trip across America’s fruited plains. Porcus and Hambo are on a quest to seek out and discover some traditional, but mostly unorthodox and out-of-the-way people, places and things. You’ll discover that some of our destinations are truly and uniquely American, while others will have us all scratching our heads, wondering, “WTF happened here?”
Before we go zig-zagging across the country, we’ll need to double check our essential provisions.
Our top priority items that we don’t leave home without, ever, include: Beer, cigars, tunes, fake I.D.s, IDGAS cards, bottle cap openers, a section of garden hose for gassing up, a tire jack for ‘borrowing’ tires here and there, tire iron for, whatever, jumper cables, PIGear (T-shirts, bumper stckers, adult beverage containers) and other items we’ll list later as deemed appropriate to each destination.
It’s time to climb aboard and begin, so tighten those seat belts, put on those crash helmets and hold on to your hot dogs as we venture forth so see how much of the REAL America still exists.
REAGAN LIBRARY
 We’ll begin just northeast of Hell-A, Mexifornia in Simi Valley, home of the Gipper’s Reading Room, aka, The Ronald Reagan Library. This awesome spectacle is dedicated the last real…TOO REAL President we’ve had.
Here, as an American, you will no doubt feel humbled by his often imitated, never duplicated presidential legacy.
During your visit to Cowboy Country, you’ll get a glimpse of a chunk of the Berlin Wall, Ronny’s jar of jellybeans and even Air Force One. If you look hard enough, you might get a fleeting glimpse of the Shining City on the Hill.
An awe inspiring experience, it will leave you grateful to be an American. Where we’re going on our Road Trip, you’ll need to draw upon that as a reminder of what we were not so long ago.
COFFEE BREAK
Next, we’ll be motoring up to Washington State looking for some coffee 'cans'. On the way up Mexifornia’s I-5, we pass through the San Joaquin Valley. Once one of the world’s most fertile agricultural regions, parts of it have digressed into a barren wasteland at the hands of political-punks limiting water supply to the farmers…sad. Very sad.
 Onward to Seattle, home of Starbucks, where coffee stand competition is cutthroat. Coffee wranglers use near topless, and bikini clad baristas and their perky cans to make our coffee break memorable.
With names like Cowgirls Espresso, Moka Girls in Auburn, The Sweet Spot Cafe in Shoreline, Bikini Espresso in Renton and Natte Latte in Port Orchard, you can tell, Washingtonians take their coffee breaks seriously. So does Hambo, who is on his seventh double espresso, most of which he ends up drooling down the front of his shirt as I had to pry him and his crumpled up one dollar bills away from the lovely, can-flashing Coffee-Tarts.
BORDER PATROLLING IN ARIZONA
We’re now heading for some Arizona hospitality, with a surprise meeting with legendary lawman, Maricopa County Sheriff, Joe Arpaio and trailblazing PIGal, Arizona Governor, Jan Brewer. After our meeting, a clandestine operation, we went straight to the Arizona/Mexican border to play Landmine Lotto in an effort to assist the Border Patrol and the Lametard’s over at I.C.E. We camped out and let the fireworks/festivities begin. Playing Landmine Lotto is a lot like shooting fish in a barrel, except a whole lot more fun and productive.
WE GOT HUNGRY
 Our next stop was in Las Vegas, Nevada, new home of the Heart Attack Grill. Their motto: “Taste Worth Dying For.”
Heart Attack Grill is a hospital themed restaurant where the waitresses, (“nurses”) take the orders (“prescriptions”) from the customers, (“patients”) and a “doctor” examines the “patients” with a stethoscope.
We ordered up a Trans-Fat Nazi’s worst nightmare, their trademark Quadruple Bypass burgers, Flatliner Fries (deep fried in pure lard) and washed it all down with some butterfat shakes, instead of the beer and tequila they also offer.
PRO FOOTBALL/ROCK 'N ROLL
HALLS OF FAME
 We stopped off at The Pro Football Hall Of Fame in Canton, Ohio, and still no Casey Anthony sightings. Bummer.
With the pending NFL lockout, we wanted to see up close the legends of football past that played the game for passion, rather than profit. We wanted to see those old warriors who, when injured, walked it off, or, played through the pain. Nowadays, a broken fingernail or even a bad hair day constitute a "player" getting on the disabled list.
They asked us to leave when Hambo went long in a post pattern. Porcus faked out a few security guards, going Hail Mary with an unopened beer can. Hambo caught it for the TD, right into the Knute Rockne display.
 Oh well, Ohio also offers up the Rock 'N Roll Hall Of Fame, too, so on to Cleveland we went..
There, you will be thrilled to see some of the all-time greats from AC/DC and Aerosmith all the way to Frank Zappa and ZZ Top and everyone else in between. All are worthy of being immortalized, sure, but we had one question: WTF are ABBA, Michael Jackson and Madonna doing there?
Once again, we were persuaded to leave, after Porcus was caught playing air guitar with the Eric Clapton exhibit, kicking over The Who's drumset and looking up Madonna's dress to confirm just what gender she/it is, was or wants to be. We can't take that Porcus guy anywhere, now can we?
PIG GETS KIN-TUCKY FRIED
Heading to neighboring Kin-Tucky, where everything and everyone is 'relative,' we thought we would do some wedding party crashing. Sure enough, we spotted some of the locals in their natural habitat, right near the local fishin' hole, at a combination auto shop/saloon/justice of the peace. They were engaged in one of their long held traditions, which surpasses even NASCAR: Cousin Kissin', Holy (shotgun-style) matrimonial ceremonies, moonshine sippin' and 'coon huntin', not necessarily in that order, either.
Having had our share of crawdads, Granny's 'possum pie, moonshine and marriage proposals - more like demands - we left Jethro and Billy Joe Gunrack in the dust and headed north. Still seeking a Casey Anthony sighting, we head for the City of Brotherly Love.
PHILLY DELI GOES 'ENGLISH ONLY'
After visiting such revered, iconic and historic national landmarks like Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell, we got hungry...again.
 We chow down at Geno's Steaks in South Philly, where we are greeted by a PIGish sign that warns, "This is AMERICA: WHEN ORDERING PLEASE 'SPEAK ENGLISH.'"
Joe Vento, the owner of Geno's Steaks, defends his policy by stating: "This country is a melting pot, but what makes it work is the English language," Vento told some whining city asshats:. "I'm not stupid. I would never put a sign out to hurt my business."
Realizing we were not in the Twilight Zone, but really in our Mommy and Daddy's America, we did cartwheels all the way back to the PIGmobile. Still seeking our first Casey Anthony sighing, we head for the Big Apple, where, hopefully, PIGish fun awaits.
PIG LEAVES A BITE MARK
ON THE BIG APPLE
 Upon arriving in New York, the first thing we noticed was the 'Attitude.' New Yorkers are, by nature, quick to make decisions, aggressive, assertive, abrasive opinionated, outspoken and know what they want and don't want. Basically, our kind of people.
Inspired by the relentlessly snarky New Yorkers, We the PIG headed for 760 United Nations Plaza. We stopped just long enough to let it all hang out, by mooning the Black Helicopter Club. In no mood to exchange the requisite pleasantries with the NYPD, we made a clean getaway.
We paid a visit to Lady Liberty before visiting Ground Zero to pay our respects.
 We also wanted to see where the real big stink was emanating from, and you guessed it. It's the proposed Monster Mosque that has many in an uproar, and rightly so.
Why will they put a Mosque right there at Ground Zero? If you think it's a place of worship, get over it. The Ground Zero Mosque is, in reality a victory shrine, which celebrates the murder of 3,000 + innocent civilians. It's a deliberate, in your face, insult, a pointed, painful, reminder that our Jihadikaze enemies are in our midst.
Will New Yorkers tolerate a victory shrine in their city? Will they tolerate a Ground Zero haven where Jihadists can plot their next move against us? Tolerate? Not a chance, but all efforts to stop the Ground Zero Mosque have been thwarted, by traitorous local officials.
Enraged, Porcus and Hambo brainstorm some countermeasures. Carpet bombing the Ground Zero Victory Shrine with PIG poop, sprinkled in with some of Hambo's Hammers and Porcus' Pitchforks, is, by far, their best idea. It is, after all, an utterly PIGish thing to do. |
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