=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. = =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Idaho Has Its Revenge --------------------- So it's around 10:30 on Friday night and we're making pretty good time. We made it from Portland to Boise in about six and a half hours. Boise isn't too bad, but Shaedow and I have decided that we really don't like Idaho as a whole. Driving through there the first time, on our way up to Oregon, we passed many towns that could easily be the setting for Deliverance and we had a few laughs by making inbreeding jokes that could just as easily have been the truth. "I'm gonna make you squeeel like a pig, boy," kept a' coming to mind.Every time Shaedow even said the word "Idaho" there was a very distinct tone of contempt in his voice. We stopped in Twin Falls to eat on our way up to Boise the first time and decided we hated Twin Falls and we were never going there again. The whole state was just way too po' dunk, redneck for me. Now that I think back, I shouldn't have laughed when Troy, our traveling companion, got three of his tires flattened while staying in Boise. I should have known it was a sign. So like I was saying, we're making good time. Shaedow is driving and I'm just thinking about all the shit I have to do when I get home. I'm a bit anal when it comes to getting things done, so I'm actually working out my schedule for the rest of the week in my head. I figured I'd get home by Saturday afternoon, so I would have plenty of time to study for my test on Monday and I may even get my painting assignments done a little early. As I'm flipping through my mental day-planner, I see it. Then we hit it. I'm not sure what it was but it made a none too pleasant noise when the bottom of the car nailed it. It takes me a few seconds to regain composure. Shaedow and I just look at each other, wondering what the hell that was when I smell the anti-freeze coming through the vents. Shaedow looks at the heat gauge and it holds itself steadily in the red. We pull over to see what kind of damage had been done. shaedow goes to the trunk for a flashlight and I go a few yards away to relieve myself. I'm walking back to the car, nearly getting my clothes ripped off by the closely passing semi trucks, when Shaedow says, "Hey. Do you want to see what we hit?" "Whaddya mean?" I ask as I walk to join him. I look under the front of the car to where he's shining the flashlight and my chin almost hit the ground. Evidently we had hit a huge block of wood and it wanted to come along for the ride, as it was embedded in the radiator, don't ask me how. I'm not very pleased with this situation. We're in bum fuck Egypt, right next to the sign pointing out the next exit that will take us to Wendell, Idaho. There are no signs of civilization in either direction so I am at a loss. I suggest that we wait for a pig to come by, but Shaedow isn't into it. At this point our options are to either inch it into Wendell and work it out from there, or try to make it 20 more miles to Twin Falls and risk blowing the car up. We decide to creep to Wendell. Fortunately for us there was a small town hiding in the trees which was comprised of a gas station, a towing garage, a small motel (with its neon "M" and "O" burned out), a bar and a movie theater. We leave the car at the gas station and haul all our shit to the "TEL" two blocks away. We get a room and decide to find out about the local mechanics in the morning. We watch a little T.V. and try to relax. After a while we, get to talking. Trying to make light of the situation, we come up with a theory about this block of wood we hit. We think that the Wendelltons put that block there in the road to beef up their economy a bit. Since no one can even see the town, they figure they can get some business by forcing hapless travelers into their town by destroying radiators. It makes sense to me. The light in this room is creepy and it's giving me a headache. We're getting up early so we shut it off... 9:30 Saturday morning and my little alarm clock is beeping. We shower, pack up and check out. Again, we haul all our shit back to the car and begin looking through the phone book to find a garage. With little surprise we find that the only mechanic in Wendell doesn't work on Saturday's, so we just have to get it towed to Twin Falls where the guy at J.R. Miller said he would work on it. I'm' thinking, Okay. No problem. We get to Twin Falls, get the car fixed by this afternoon, we're back on the road by tonight and home by Sunday evening. "Just a minute," Idaho says, "I'm just getting started with you." A half an hour and $100 later, we are in Twin Falls, again. The towing guy said he had to dislodge the block of wood in order to tow the car and he left it at the gas station (they probably just want to stick it back out on the highway). That's kind of a drag since I thought that it would make a great souvenir. The J.R. Miller guy says that he can't do anything until he can find another radiator. He says the soonest he can get one is Monday, so we better get a rental car and a motel room. It takes me almost an hour to totally absorb the reality of the situation. I realize that I am going to miss my test on Monday, I am going to be behind in my photography, literature and ethics classes and I'm going to have to bust my ass to get my paintings turned in on time. But I finally accept it and begin to rearrange my mental day-planner. After getting a rental car, we go to the Denny's which is located right across the street from "Me 'n Ed's" pizza parlor. I'm not hungry, but Shaedow shovels down a Grand Slam breakfast in the two minutes it takes me to go to the bathroom. We decide to get a room at the Motel 6 down the street, unload our shit and drive around town. After an hour or so of driving, we go back to the room for lack of anything better to do. Shaedow hooks up his laptop and sinks into his alternate reality and I sit on the bed and watch our free HBO, since I have no laptop. I call my mom so she doesn't start thinking that I died. Right before we went to bed, Shaedow committed the cardinal sin of bad luck situations. He looks at me and he says, "How much worse can it really get." Monday morning and J.R. Miller guy says that no one in town has a radiator for a Honda Civic, so he'll have to call a place in Nevada to have it sent in. It should be in by Tuesday and he can have us out of town by five o' clock. That was an instant headache. My heart sinks and my mental day-planner has a shit fit. Shaedow relates to me how odd it is that a town like Twin Falls wouldn't have a new radiator for a Honda somewhere. Right now I want nothing more than a bottle of tequila. Passing out for the next 24 hours is sounding better and better. After much whining and pleading with Shaedow to get me the hell out of this room for a little while, he agrees to take me to a movie. We go to THE theater to watch Happy Gilmore. Good flick. It lets out and the token punk rock kid of Twin Falls bums a smoke from Shaedow. We figured it was for the 16 year old girl hooked to his waist and it would probably get him laid. Tuesday afternoon and J.R. Miller guy just got the radiator. The only problem is that it's broken. He says he's going to have to call some place in Washington to get another one sent in for tomorrow. Now i'm getting pissed. We have already spent entirely too much time is this shitty little town that we swore never to return to. I just want to go home. That's simple enough, isn't it? I have been stuck in this room for three days and I am going to freak out if I don't get out! I try to appeal to Shaedow's sympathy, but then remember that he doesn't have any. So I annoy him until he agrees to take me out for coffee. I know I sound like a total nag, but keep in mind I have nothing to entertain me or keep me company. Nothing good on T.V. and Shaedow blocks me out completely when he's on the internet. So we're at the coffee shop and Shaedow bums a smoke to the token skater kid of Twin Falls. The kid acted like Shaedow had just given him a gold coin instead of cancer. We get back from the Blue Lakes Java shop and he goes right back to the laptop. So I start to contemplate the ever worsening situation. We must have died back on the highway, I think, because this is most definitely hell. Wednesday afternoon and J.R. Miller guy just got the radiator. The only problem is that it's for a stick shift, not an automatic. I'm going to scream or cry or go on a killing spree. I can't take this shit! Then I hear that he can still get us out by tonight, it'll just take a little longer. Okay, okay. Just do it. We drive in circles for almost four hours. Killing time in a small town is nearly impossible, but eventually five o' clock rolls around and we go to the garage. Just a little longer. A little longer. Little longer. Longer, longer, longer. Six thirty and J.R. Miller guy is looking everything over one more time before sending us on our merry way. I am on my toes waiting to get the okay to get the fuck out when his expression changes. He starts rubbing the top of the radiator like he's cleaning it. He's silent for almost two full minutes before he says, "This one's cracked." Then he goes into this explanation of how hard it is to find a used radiator and that he could have had us out of town on Monday if we had wanted a new one. I walked out and smoked three cigarettes before I could calmly deal with this. I finally go back in and Shaedow is discussing our options with the mechanic. I gather that we can wait till Friday or Saturday for another radiator, he could try to weld it shut ("But you just never know if it'll work or if it'll make a bigger hole"), or we could get some cold welding bond, which is like epoxy for automotive parts. We pay J.R. Miller guy and go to Target for some cold welding bond. The directions say it has to sit overnight to harden properly. SOMEBODY SHOOT ME! Thursday morning and the glue looks like it's holding pretty good. Shaedow put about three tablespoons of the glue on last night and it solidified like some petrified mass of snot. Shaedow calls his mom to let her know we were getting on our way. Before he hangs up with her, he says, "You really didn't have to tell me that." "Tell you what?" I ask, after he hangs up. "You know that town Buhl that's about five miles away?" "Yeah." "My mom said that she has a cousin there and he just happens to be a mechanic." I almost start to cry. We take the rental back and hit the road. I don't think I have ever been so excited to be on the highway in my life. We take it easy for the first hundred miles. We pull off to the Denny's in Pocatello and see that the glue is still holding. With nothing short of ecstasy, I hop back in the car ready to go on for the next ten hours. I don't want to stop until I am home (pee breaks and gas fill-ups aside, of course). Around four in the afternoon, we reach the state border. I crack a huge smile as I see the "Welcome To Wyoming" sign. I ask Shaedow, "Are you ready?' He smiles at me as we both turn around in our seats to give Idaho a long overdue, heartfelt middle finger. epilogue -------- about six months later I get a call from Shadow late in the afternoon and he says, "You are never going to believe what I just saw on T.V." "What?" I ask. "There's this talk show about Wendell, Idaho and -get this- Wendell, Idaho is the Hokey Pokey capital of the world." - Wednesday =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = Questions, Comments, Bitches, Ideas, Rants, Death Threats, Submissions = = Mail: jericho@dimensional.com (Mail is welcomed) = =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = To receive new issues through mail, mail jericho@dimensional.com with = = "subscribe fuck". 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