The Real Jeff Orr, goes on vacation, step 1: the drive

So I made the drive down to Southern California and I have one thing to say, "Fuck Yuba City." Every time I drive down the 99 I dread the ten minutes I have to spend in that godless shit-hole (is shit-hole hyphenated?). The highway through Yuba city is always under some sort of construction and is always full of more potholes than Rip Torn's grizzled visage. Whenever I drive through there I get a slight glimmer of hope that the two lanes might allow me to pass some of the slower traffic. However, the facts that the stop lights in that demon-pit are fucking schizophrenic and the drivers there are borderline retarded, always results in me getting stuck behind even more slow cars than when I entered this Mos Eisley of the north state.

Aside from the trip through Fuckwitville the drive was decent, I think I come up with some of my most interesting ideas on long solo drives. I've got a couple new theories on how fake Jeff Orr's could exist. One of them involves an alternate time-line/time-traveling witness protection program, I'll post it when it's more fleshed out.

Monday night I fly to Texas with Pat, sit around the Dallas airport for a few hours, then fly to Japan at some ungodly hour on Tuesday morning.