RV To Hell

The summer of my 7th grade year, my Ma and Stepdad decided to fuck up a vacation by going round trip from South Dakota to New Mexico with all four of us and my Ma's terrier.

To make it even better, we went in a 4 bedroom, one bath, 400 square foot hellhole dubbed The Widowmaker. 

South Dakota is like God's little joke on America, with it's vast plains of WHERE THE HELL ARE WE. The Big SD does feature Rushmore, which, if you've never been, is a rock--that's all. You go, you snap a picture of you and your dog as presidents on the mountain. However, since it was Monday, and we were leaving for New Mexico only on FRIDAY, we had some time to kill.

Other Events in South Dakota:

1) Crazy Horse--another rock, but unfinished. Well thank God I saw that before I died. 

2) The Rootin' Tootin' Cowboy Salootin' Dinner Show--Oh, how I wish I were just dicking around about this one. We chose the RTCSDS based on their claims of being the set of the movie Dances with Wolves, Grace's favorite movie. Upon arrival found a sticky note taped to the floor with the words "Kevn Costnar stood here," on the way to the food line, where they handed you a metal plate and metal cup and filled your plate first with SEARING HOT BEANS, invited you to sing on stage and crush your soul.

That was all we did. 5 days, folks, 5 days.

So then, to really round out the fuckery, we moseyed on down to The Land of Enchantment--New Mexico (henceforth The Land of Broken Dreams). 

Northern New Mexico=Mountains and Ski Areas=pretty.

Southern New Mexico=Desolation=Our chosen destination!

I got chased through a thornbush thicket by a band of rogue deer while wearing a wetsuit carrying flippers and a Sonic Size Dr. Pepper in Roswell.

Mark of a terrible vacation? When the IHOP Brain Teasers are your highlight.