"Where We're Going - We Don't NEED Roads"

That was a quote by the most famous, alluringly radiant and pulchritudinous scientist I know - Emmett ‘Doc’ Brown, who by the way – invented the TIME MACHINE! But in actuality, where my friends (Iceman, Nitro and Bob) and I did go – we surely did need roads. You may wonder what in the name of the mythological Minotaur am I talking about?

And no – I’m not talking about how I once traveled from Manhattan to Brooklyn to witness a friend actually knock out Mike Tyson – first round, UPPER CUT, JAB, UPPER CUT, in Tyson’s Punch Out (greatest game ever!) Or beat Contra without using the cheating code. Contra’s a war zone, friends.

But I digress.

I’m only talking about the most exciting road trip (courtesy of Greyhound) in the history of historical histories.
I’m talking about a road trip to the STATE OF THE UNION. Curtail the excitement please. My fingers are shaking as I type this…

Suddenly, I’m hyperventilating in a brown paper bag.

First – before entering the bus – we had to go through our checklist for this trip.
1.) Condoms – CHECK
2.) Alcohol – CHECK
3.) SHROOMS – DOUBLE CHECK
4.) Head Shot of Nancy Pelosi - CHECKMATE

These are necessities for a State of the Union – for tailgating, of course.

Secondly, we had to get our posters ready for some celebrity signatures. Forget Tom Cruise, Zac Efron, Brad Pitt, the dude from Slumdog Millionaire or any ‘Hollywood’ folk. I’m talking about getting me some Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid, House Majority Leader Steny H. Hoyer and if we’re lucky – I mean LOTTO lucky – getting Freshman Rep. Jared Polis – a new hottie Democrat from Colorado.

Most of you would question – why not get Obama’s autograph? And I’ll answer – he’s old news now. FIVE WEEKS – PUH-LEASE. Give me a little Rep. Earl Blumenauer from Oregon and that’ll be the cherry on top of my State of the Union Sundae.

By the time we arrived at our destination, the shrooms were kicking in, hallucinations of Nancy Pelosi speaking to me in Yiddish were apparent and the alcohol had reached the point of poisoning. We stepped off the bus, condom wrappers open and placed on point (just in case opportunity presented itself) and the party was just about to begin.

We put our lawn chairs down, cracked open a cold beer and waited for the hoards of people to start arriving.
After fifteen minutes, and a tumbleweed blowing through the dirt field, we started freaking out – like ‘Requiem for a Dream’ freaking out. We asked a local man when the tailgating would start for the State of the Union.

He didn’t know what were we talking about. So, I grabbed his stained collar, kicked him in the pelvis, got up in his face and spit out words of disgust.

And then a voice, maybe God, maybe the narrator from ‘Field of Dreams’ or possibly James Earl Jones, came from above and told us something interesting.

“You are in Centralia, Pennsylvania.”

Confused, we didn’t know what to do. Stuck, lost and scared – we did the only thing three dudes on shrooms, with condoms on and alcohol poisoning would do…

We hopped on the saddle of a Minotaur and rode back into the sunset - bound for Manhattan.

*This was for entertainment purposes only. A Minotaur does not really exist. Drugs are illegal and wrong. And, although a possibility, I do not think anyone would tailgate for the State of the Union.