how is it that its always 5am? how is it that i didnt really see anything of any interest until 1am? how is it that midwest girls still have my heart? even the ones who check me into my fairfield suites hotel in downtown des moines? how is it that i never knew how small this country can be when you are allowed to drive 85 mph?

how is it that theres all this road construction but nothing seems to be getting done and they have coned off three fourths of the road and theres only one lane to drive in and still all of us: cars trucks boats and planes all seem to be able to still zoom down the highway to hell in the middle of the night and have no problem.

how is it that i have yet to encounter even one bad driver on the entire trip? does that mean that im the bad driver? how is it that no one seems to notice that the largest chain of gas station convenience stores in the midwest is called Kum & Go

how is it that even though i have put this blog on the backburner that over a thousand people a day keep coming here and advertisers still want to pay me to put links to their shit here?

how is it that life is so unfair that anna nicoles son had to not only live with a crazed horny embarrassing druggie drunk of a mom, but that slimeball hanger-on lawyer, and then couldnt even have an exciting way to die young like get caught banging one of the olsen twins and get shot by a jealous boyfriend?

how is it that i might just be in possession of the finest consumer video camera in the world under a thousand dollars and i have not met one girl who wants to get naked in front of it?

how is it that theres no jack n the boxes east of vegas? how is it that the raiders could suck so badly on monday night football? how is it that i dont even wanna beat off here in this chrystal clear clean room even though i listened to Playboy on sirius radio for many hours in the dark while driving with my pants off because my boner was tapping me on the shoulder asking arewethereyet arewethereyet and now that we’re there i just want to work eat drink and sleep?

how is it that i know i never read on the road and yet i always bring all the books that i never got around to reading at the crib?

how is it that i never cry not even while listening to howard stern’s replay of 9/11 from five years ago and his reruns of past 9/11s but a comedy like Little Miss Sunshine had me crying from begining to end because it was so damn good?

how is it that the bitches who play super hard to get, as in super doooper hard to get, in cali dont accept my booty calls until i leave that side of the world and then theyre all hey its too bad youre not here cuz i just got some handcuffs.

how is it that they dont remember that im not mr handcuffs guy im mr shutthefuckupho guy herestheductape as its easier on your wrists when you struggle but just as strong the way i wrap it, and you can write dirty words on duct tape and slap it on the hos head and above the ass and on the belly, etc.

how is it that i drove almost all day today and at the end of the long excursion it almost seemed like my car rode better at the end of the night than it did way at the begining.

how is it that you dont love me. how is it that the cubs are thirty games below five hundy how is it that i keep getting screwed on these time zone changes and i should have two more hours to work before five but in reality its five already which means that i should stop blogging and pass out.

how is it that i arrived in iowa, interviewed the graveyard manager of the Kum & Go on video and before i left i didnt get a six pack of Old Style, my favorite beer of all times?