Thursday, January 05, 2006

All roads lead to the NJTP

Zeminky was driving and as usual he was lost. He had missed his exit long ago because he could not change lanes in time (in Zeminky's world "in time" meant around 7 miles). But it did not worry him at all. He knew that if he stayed on any road long he would end up in the beautiful New Jersey Turnpike. He could not understand why people like Zen and KK refused to believe that.

He was tired of being lost, trying to get to some suburb. He had decided to move to NYC and live right off an exit. He hoped he could convince his bastardly friends to do the same. That way he would never get lost. He knew that KK would never leave the bastardisation of Phoenix and Zen was too lazy to do anything. The salamander lived in a maze deep within Alston, MA. He shuddered to think of going there again. And Khemcho...

He suddenly saw a sign saying Khemcho 385 miles. Wow, the US is indeed a strange place, he thought. They even have a town called Khemcho. He was thinking of driving there on general principles.

Zeminky was now happy driving towards Khemcho. He was listening to "Hung up" by Madonna and all of a sudden it struck him that the words could be twisted to say...

All roads lead to the NJTP, the NJTP
Time passes slowly on the NJTP, the NJTP

Zeminky was now sure that he would one day emulate his idol, the great Bappi Lahiri.

His mind drifted back to Khemcho again. The girl was really confusing him. She all of a sudden started referring to herself as burningyellowcandle and blogging on two sites. He wanted to leave loving comments on her blog but due to her control issues she screened all the comments. Why do all this other that to muddle Zeminky's poor brain. He wondered if he was obsessed with her. He suddenly saw another sign which said Khemcho 350 miles. But he realized that his obsessed mind was seeing things. The sign really said Canada 350 miles.

Zeminky decided to make a u-turn...

1 comment:

MadMax said...

The turnpike is quintessentially American, like manifest destiny. “The turnpike is a swaggering giant that plows through the industrial heartland of the East Coast, overpowering even the mighty landscape of refineries, airports, and tank farms that have the temerity to get in its path,” writes Houston architect R. Gregory Turner, who hails originally from New Jersey Turnpike Exit 9. “It is a muscular 12 lanes wide, formed of masses of concrete, steel, and asphalt. It is not a subtle roadway, it is straightforward; indeed, it is virtually straight! Its beauty is in its simplicity.