Is It Love?

29 05 2008


I hate you, Nebraska. You are the bane of my existence. If you were swallowed up by the Earth tomorrow, it wouldn’t be soon enough. F*ck you Nebraska. I hope you rot in Hell. You frustrate me so much, I want to pull my hair out every time I think about you.

I tried to find some decent camping in you, none. None available. Apparently, the people that live within your borders are more concerned with farming and hunting and sport fishing. But no one likes to camp. How is that possible? I could go to Colorado for camping, but that is a 9 hour drive by car. If I rode my bike out to Colorado, there is an excellent chance (uh, 125%) I would never come back to the worst state on the planet, you, Nebraska.

You claim to offer me “The Good Life”, but, honestly, it isn’t all that good. I can think of a lot of other states that would offer me a much better life than you can.

When I wake up in you, Nebraska, I feel like a fly trying to get out of a window; I keep banging up against something that is stopping me from my freedom, but I can’t see what it is. So I try harder, only to get tired and knocked back down to the ground even harder. Nebraska, you are my window to the rest of the world, and I am the fly that can’t figure how to get out.

Does someone have a fly swatter?



One response

30 05 2008

The only time I’ve ever been to Nebraska was for a camping trip. Ha ha ha! We went to some lake. I fell off a jet ski, while wearing jeans, because I didn’t bring a bathing suit. I also forgot to bring shoes on that camping trip. I am not even joking. I left the house in my slippers and didn’t realize until we were almost to the state line.

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