Backwardsville Part II

Here are two reasons why I would never, ever, EVER live in Backwardsville, Utah.



The local speed limit sign on the town's busiest freeway. Which in fact is a one-way dirt road.



The town mayor. He, by the way is still stuck on what a juxtaposition is with Ten-Gallon Ted.

The 324-mile, 22 and a half hour escapade was something that I will lock deep away into the "holy-crap-I'm-not-proud-to-admit-that-portion-of-my-life-occurred" vault of my subconscious. A non-stop blizzard, a gigantic rock as the local high school's mascot, and the fact that I felt even more vile, putrid and foul-smelling after going through three separate showers at my literal hole in the wall excuse of a motel will make me never want to live in a limited inside the box mindset town such as that.

The final straw that helped break my camel's back? Simple. As I pulled in to ******** High School to do my recruiting, the flickering neon marquee displayed the following messages.

Message 1: Friday, February 25, 10:37 A.M.

Message 2: Women's Softball Tryouts-3/2/11 After School

Message 3: Seniors, Be Through with Chew!

Lord save us all...