Or whatever the song says.

Hey motherfuckers in the cold and snow of New England — Today was top-down, wind in my hair and sunburn on my cheeks. In the Ozarks, it was about 80 degrees. (I checked out Branson, MO. Frightening mix of Vegas and “wholesome” family “values.” Scary. By the way, I’ve been to Iceland, and I have been to Utah and Branson may in fact be the WHITEST fucking place I ever saw. Bleach white. Chubby white. “America.”)

By the way, being as I’m “middle-aged” I’ve been using a daily moisturizer with alpha-hydroxy. The fine print tells you that AH will make you more susceptible to sunburn. They got that fucking right. I totally forgot, until a couple hours into my convertible highway groove. I think I’ll need a veil to protect my skin for the rest of the trip.

(Add to my list of surprises for M. In addition to gaining 200 lbs. from road food, I’m going to have a lovely cracked baseball-mitt complexion.)

Oh, and I thoroughly enjoyed “Thelma and Louise” when it first came out and on subsequent viewings. However, now I realize what a piece of shit Hollywood lie it was, and I think Ridley Scott should be ashamed. There is just no fucking way in hell those two chicks with their medium length hair could look like that after riding that far in a convertible.

Just one day, with no intervening plot twists and killing and whatnot, my hair was knotted and dredded. I checked into Day’s Inn looking like a homeless chick who’d lucked into a wallet packed with credit cards.

My sad attempts at controlling my locks, forced ponytail holders, scrunchies, a baseball cap and a scarf in various clown-like appearances. I looked like shit, and eventually everything tried blew off, and I looked worse for wear.

Thelma and Louise tossed their hair around with a couple of rubber bands, a hat and a cap, none of which blew off. I cry “Bullshit” against Ridley and all the Scotts.

I did finally get a decent meal, though. If you are not an octogenarian, you might want to be a bit wary of Triple-AAA recommended places. The food was good, but I was the youngest person in the place save for the waitstaff. Yeah, life is good when you are dining among the ROCKING Saturday night life of Tulsa’s blue hairs eating and dancing.