Hallo from Atlanta, Georgia. Home to the XXVI Olympiad, The Coca-Cola Company, CNN, Martin Luther King, Jr., National Historic Site and of course reveling in its new title of the Zombie Mecca of the World. For amongst other productions, AMC’s The Walking Dead. Pookaverse will be visiting all those sites over the next two days and recording the visit. Including as many of The Walking Dead Locations as possible. Here are a few to kick off with as taken from this excellent fan site.
It’s just gone 18:00 and in less than 3 hours the 4th Episode of the 3rd Season of The Walking Dead will premiere on Network Television.
It’s going to be good. If you think the second season was a quantum leap over Season 1 then you certainly will not be disappointed with what the writers have prepared for you in the 3rd Season. Despite the departures from the Graphic Novel.
And Pookaverse is in Atlanta. With the Odometer with ticks left to the Airport. Early readings point to a further 4350 miles travel from Seattle.
We’ll let you know the result. Plus. A state round-up. Mutley must have his medal.
But, Daylight Saving Time in this region of the United states occurred last night. So we left at 09:00. It’s not just the British Culture that does the Hucklebuck at this time of year.
We left Birmingham, Alabama through a nest of writhing concrete junctions and saw Leeds, Alabama signposted. The only time perhaps that it is possible to drive East from Birmingham for 37 miles until you encounter Leeds. Not much more to say about that is there? Nope.
And it rained. It’s raining. It will be raining tomorrow. And it will be raining the day after. But a sunny day is expected on Wednesday (07/11), when Pookaverse drops off our beloved car at Atlanta airport. It is funny how associations grow. Funny and “very hoom” say the Houhynmms amongst our party. It is one big Yahoo ‘pretty stone’ to them. And to us. We agree. Almost.
But. That car has been with us for over two months. From the first fledgling drive of 78 miles to Hyannis, Cape Cod from Boston, MA. From Seashore, through Forest, over Mountain, under Desert, tailgating arseholes. Undertaking arseholes. Cutting-in arseholes. Meandering arseholes. Comatose arseholes. Old farts and young squirts
Pituitary retards on mobile phones – texting or speaking (it doesn’t matter), pituitary retards on their I-pads, pituitary retards doing their make-up, roadkill by the gallon, unlit and poorly signposted entrances and exits to intersections, mile after mile of roadworks and scary intersections.
Occasional rows about how close you are passing that huge “Fuck Me” rig on the left.
Occasional rows about how close you are passing that huge “Fuck Me” rig on the right. The “Barp” from behind as the Driver behind you has decided that you have taken too long to decide if you can go Right on Red in New York State.
The “Barp” from behind as the Driver behind you has decided that you have taken too long to decide if you can go Right on Red in Washington State. You get into a state see. That’s when you need the right car. All credit to Alison. As.
It has glided perfectly and performed superbly. Life behind a right-hand drive manual-change ‘bubble-car’ will never be the same again. The vista, the vantage point, the tearaway speed when climbing up to 9450 ft above sea-level in Yosemite National Park, the bucket-y chairs and the amped-up muscle of that little ‘car’. Inconspicuous by its presence. Welcoming. But what now?
It may be shuttled up and down the East Coast of the USA for the rest of its warranty. Maybe helping a family in Jersey get about while their car is being repaired or assessed after being ‘sandied’. Or thrashed by a bored executive. Or used to tail-gate. Or undertake.
Seat’s farted into. Fag burns all over the synthetic but robust upholstery. Fat screaming hateful children hosing the back seats with vomit. Indolent tick-like wives dragging their diarrhea-laden, pug nosed labradoodles for another pointless fisting by the Vet. The shouting. The screaming. The vomit. The horror. The vomit.
Or crashed. Brandi couldn’t remember if Troy liked Spinach with his colon-scraping waffles on the way to Walmart and only got the answer machine.
Less than 3 seconds later, her I-phone 5 on credit. Slam-dunked into her Hypothalamus – skull defecates brain forming the ‘Apple logo’ on the the driver-side airbag. Do you want that to happen? To Brandi? To OUR CAR?
You can stop this. Buy the Kia Sportage. Buy ‘our’ Kia Sportage from those (mostly) lovely people at National. Ship it. And ship it now (or later) to Pookaverse. It’s almost Christmas. Stop the HORROR!
Wouldn’t it be refreshing if Marks and Spencer used that for their Christmas advertisements – “It’s almost Christmas. Stop the HORROR”. Imagine that statement blaring out at you as you watch the soft-focus images of gravy ejaculating onto hot, wet, turkey breast while that money-for-fondling-tone-vamp slurps out that little jingle.
Oh. You’re no fun anymore.
Back into Atlanta tomorrow. Back to Marta. To visit those places. As always, we’ll let you know what happens.