Nightmare on Herbstreit VI: The Appalachian Trail

by Idaho Chubbs (ghost-written by Grady Tripp)


Granite palpitaions are riding Pegasaus' heart strings into the internal spectrum of Odysseus. What can I say? Penelope won't you be mine despite BLOW's disappointment? AAAAAAhhhhhh the mind folds are being turned inside out. Mucus fills the lungs and carreses them in a honey-dew serum that will soon kill me thanks to the cartons of "Tebow Candy Sticks" I have been inhaling this long sojourn---"Is Facebook dying?" Tut exclaimed. "Everything takes FOREVER to load. I can't even get SPORTS scores! I swear, I'm going to hurl this computer across the space time continuum until into smashes into Orien's Belt."

Polymer soaked duckbills tear at my soul's intestines. This journey hath wrought great pain to my compatriot and me; King Tut lost his wi-fi connection, and I couldn't get myself drunk enough to numb the burning ulcer of depression, longing, self-reflection, and the Hurricane's loss to Clemson the weekend before. It has been three months since "The Minotaur Incident". My sessions with Jung and Freud had gone well enough, but something was lacking; I yearned for some sort of clarity that had eluded me in that psychological forum. A conclusion was reached that I should hike the Appalachian Trail; the outdoors, the exercise, the absence of technology (especially time-travel), the melding of one with nature to truly find oneself. I had worked construction a few years back on The Tower of Babel and the forman of our crew, Jeremy, informed me that he had done the same thing with some frat buddies after they graduated college. The experience worked wonders with his psyche, although he discovered mid-trek (through people he met on the trail) that the reason they had strapped on this adventure was to find the wondrous and elusive Temple of Berg (as in Peter) which contained a single golf glove he had used while playing a nine hole round with "The Great One".  

So I grabbed my camping gear, loaded up the Delorean with plenty of rations, drove to August of 2009, pulled Tut, not-so willingly, out of his first semester at Bard (telling the school it was a "family matter"), and we set out on The Appalachian Trail to find ourselves, and just maybe, the ancient Temple of Berg, for what awaits us (fingers crossed) is nothing short of glorious suicidal dreams that dance across the milky way, hoping, for one brief mili-second, to be reborn in death, but still, not die.

"Get ahold of yourself Tut." I said, "The trappings of modern technology have made you lazy and obnoxious. Man, some-fucking-times I really regret saving you from getting murdered and overthrown. I saw your three thousand year-old corpse my first go-around with time-travel and it was not pretty...except for all the gold and jewels---Anyway, just be patient, I want to see if USC and the Yankees won just as much as you do." Just as these words escaped my mouth, Tut spotted a Starbucks, which by some miracle, was not a mirage. Despite our weary state we made haste towards the internet/sports/coffee beacon of hope.

HUDSON! HUDSON! HUDSON!, INSTANT REPLAY! INSTANT REPLAY! INSTANT REPLAY! A-Rod breaks out of his World Series slump and smashes a camera all at the same time. Cole Hamels, go hump a cheese-steak! Is Hideki Matsui the most sinister looking dude ever? I bet he's really a nice guy; much like Sato is at the end of Karate Kid II (MIIIYAAAGGGIII!!!). Hey refs in the Iowa/Indiana game, over-turning a call involves conclusive evidence. Every other human being in the galaxy understands that except you! They were both touchdowns in my mind, too bad the Hoosiers tanked it to keep Iowa undefeated. Everything about the Big Ten is disgusting, except for the font of the word "Illinois" on the "The Fighting Illini's" helmets. Tate Forcier is officially not a "true" freshman, or maybe he is? It can go both ways can't it? Well, he's young. The SEC is a little less gross judging from Florida's performance against Georgia. Or maybe it's just the Gators who are less deplorable. Watching Tim Tebow play is weird--he runs over everybody, does whatever he wants, even THROWS for touchdowns, and all I think is, "Is this guy even a good athlete? I'll be so surprised if anyone drafts him".  On second thought the SEC is still ugly due only impart to Georgia's black helmet, red face-mask combo and Tennessee's black jerseys. They may have slaughtered South Carolina, but what the fuck made them want be an uglier looking team than the Oregon Ducks? Which brings me to the USC/Oregon game. The Ducks have about ten million different uniform combinations that when seen, make you want to commit suicide ten million different ways. But I'm sure the designers get loads of praise at Fashion Week. Despite their questionable androgeny, the Pygar-looking-Bowsers pasted the prickly Trojans, racking up 613 yards of total offense handing them their worst loss since Hades beat Olympus back in the 60's. The quarterback, Jeremiah Masoli (a community college transfer), and "False Freshman" running-back LaMichael James, who are both about 5'9" 105 pounds, used and abused the vaunted, "look how many pro prospects we have" USC defense, doing whatever, running wherever they pleased. The Trojans "D" looked like a DIII team the size of DI team getting mauled by a DI team that is the size of a DIII team. Hey Taylor Mays, you are suppose to wrap when you tackle. You are a shame to the Jewish faith, you are over-rated, and you are a softy. I am personally going to go back in time and revoke your Bar Mitzvah. Maybe Boise State (who beat Oregon), Cincinnati, and The Hawkeyes can win a National Championship. Anything is possible. It's time for a playoff system NCAA, and instant replay loves A-Rod. Hopefully the MLB will love it one day too.

Refreshed and motivated by our toasty caramel macchiatos and SPORTS, King Tut and I set out into the depths of the wild, in search for "The Temple of Berg", but more importantly, for the spiritual nutrients that will give our souls meaning in this uncertain existence.