I Am Going to Fuck Up Your State
January 23, 2008
I was in Amsterdam, biding some unclaimed time in a coffee shop with some Australian friends. I was sipping some freshly squeezed orange juice in between my turn with the joint. I was relaxed.
Suddenly this good ol’ boy with a John Deere mesh hat came up to us and started speaking. “Yeah, I thought y’all looked American,” he said with his good ol’ boy country accent. He started telling us about his journey from his native state of Georgia to his new home of Montana…Big Sky Country…Heaven on Earth…and he was right proud of his Montana and its space and its big sky. And so I said, “Yes, I think I will go to Montana one day.” And he said, “Well, if you do, don’t bring any of your friends and fuck up my state.”
I put down my glass and turned to him slowly. I said, “Yes, well. You ruined my plan. I was going to collect busloads and trainloads of every person and their fucking mother and then herd them all out to the spacious heartland of Montana and open up the biggest, the tackiest, the most commercialized monstrosity of a fucking neon-lit place you ever did see, and then I am going to build a huge, red blinking arrow pointing to it with a sign that says FUCK YOU AND THE HORSE YOU RODE IN ON.”
He really ruined my plan.
