It’s the Largest State
(So, naturally, it should get the biggest laugh)
Today my friend Ken has IM-ed me a link to a photolog about some guy who drives the Dalton Highway into the Artic Circle in Alaska. Ken tells me I should take this journey because I am “the adventurous type.” Natrually, I respond by saying, “Ah ha! I was struggling for today’s topic upon which to blog. You have provided me additional blogger fodder. Thank you, Ken.” And so, the topic for today:road trip in Alaska with horny caribou.
The weblog talks about how it’s almost impossible to rent a car to drive the Dalton Highway, as it’s a rugged God-forsaken place of earth which carries many “liabilities” (at least according to the rental car dweebs.) Nevertheless, the author imparts upon this momentual journey and drives through the Alaskan tundra into the Artic Circle. Interesting read, especially seeing as I’ve been on this kick as of late to go explore the great white north. Not that this makes any sense, mind you, seeing as I spent four years in the hell we shall call “Potsdam” and, if that wasn’t enough, I have been stranded several times in the tundra of upstate NY without a coat or mittens. (Gotta have mittens, man, you just got to have mittens. And don’t try to live your sorry ass another day without ear muffs either.) But, as I’ve said many times before, there’s just not logical accounting for wonderlust. And, I suppose, anyplace is better than here (especially at this point in time.)
The author of the weblog also talks about caribou. After reading this, I told Ken that, I’ve never actually seen a caribou. I don’t know what they look like but have heard they get pretty pissed off. So, according to my logic, we can tell Ted it’s just “a big deer” and he should go and pet it “up close and all.” Then enjoy the inevitable horn butt that will ensue and, as the pissed off caribou butts Ted in the ass, we can enjoy our own private hysterics. Sounds like a dream vacation to me. Yes, Ken, I’m actually dreaming about going on a vacation with Ted. Ha ha! Jokes on me. Maybe, for an encore, we can make Ted sleep on the side of the hotel that faces the sun, and visit when there’s like 23 fricking hours of daylight. Oh and, for good measure, we’ll put a spotlight outside of his window (just to make sure he doesn’t get any shut eye at all.) I’m sure he’ll miss the prostitutes dancing on his ceiling, but he’ll live.
Ken has also suggested that we leave Ted in the Artic Ocean and see if he can swim back. I responded by saying we could possibly feed him to a polar bear, but then we both decided the horny caribou would be the best of the lot. At least, it would make us laugh the most. And you have to love that, right? I mean, it beats the bananas out of Belize anyday.
Until next time, this is Carol, the Carol in “Carol’s Little World” signing off.