Road Trippin' in da 'pacifically Northwest

Last month me and Mom n Dad went on a kick-ass roadtrip.  It was freakin' crazy and awesome and would have been even better if I'd had the backseat to myself but hey, that which do not kill us makes us stronger and therefore better able to kill others. (Feel free to quote me.  Except I copyrighted that shiznit!)

We went 3,366 miles in 11 days.  Here is a run-down of what we did and how awesome or not-awesome it was.  Here's a quick hint:  The not-awesome parts usually involve people that isn't me. 

Days 1-3:  Los Angel-ass to Seattle.
Uh, yeah, that was a lot of driving AKA a lot of "Freakin MOVE, Chester, no not there, or there either, JEEZ."   Oregon was pretty rad, though.  We walked around Ashland (rad) and Portland's rose garden.  Both was cool except Mom kept insisting on taking all these pictures and posing our asses and I was like, Ummm, anyway, I'd way rather be lunging at that squirrel or barking at a mom with her kid.  And Dad was like, I think that's enough; Stella's breaking down. And Mom was like, It'll take -- STELLA, STOP! -- 5 minutes.  And Dad was like, If each one takes 5 minutes we'll never get to -- And Mom was like, Fine, whatever, I suck, let's eat.



 

Portland Rose Garden:  one rose, two thorns

Later, in Seattle, it was mostly sucky because we was locked in the crate all day together in a ghetto ass hotel room because Dad had to yell at the Jets all day Sunday and Mom had to make sure Dad didn't get arrested. Do you know what 8 hours IN A CRATE with these red-furred stepchildren is like?  My brain almost turned into a Chester's butthole-sized onion.  No wonder fetus-head Donald tried to jump out a window to escape da crate.  (Mom caught him.)

Days 4-6:  Seattle to Vancouver
Yeah, that's right.  This bitch went to Canada.  It was sorta crazy and Mom and Dad was scared we wasn't gonna get in cuz I would yell at the border guards but turns out the border guard was more concerned about Mom n Dad's handguns.  Mom had initially wanted to videotape our crossing for her demented amusement but was informed by my favorite Canadian friend, Christa, that the guards wouldn't like that so much.  So here is my memory of what went down at da border:

::: Mom pulls up, tries to hand the guard the passports through a tiny sliver of window:::
Border Guard (nasty): Something wrong with your window?
Mom:  No, I just -- I have the dogs, so.
Border Guard (nastier):  What, they're gonna jump out?
Mom: (laughing, with a look to Donald):  Well, maybe!
::: Mom hands him passports :::
Stella:  HI WHO ARE YOU NEVERMIND I DON'T CARE DON'T TALK TO MY MOM
Mom:  Do you want the paperwork for the dogs?
Border Guard:  Do you have any guns with you?
Stella:  WHAT DID I SAID DON'T TALK TO MY MOM
Mom:  What?  No. 
Border Guard:  Do you have any guns at home?
Mom:  No.
Stella:  STEP OFF MOUNTIE
::: The guard opens the gate without saying anything.  Mom drives through:::
Stella:  YUP.

After we got 'crossed the border, we had some good-ass times.  Mostly cuz Mom made the schedule and it was walking the entire city.  Dad didn't like Mom's schedule as much but by the time his complaining reached a fever pitch, we were already half way through Mom's psycho loop so it was shorter for us to just do things her way, what else is new.



Yeah, Chester and Donald, the camera is right there.



Canadian Geese in Canada:  Just annoying as American Canadian Geese



Stanley Park.  Cool except for being on the leash and with the blank-stare brothers ugh I hate them



Olympic Torch.  I won at everything except Sucking (swept by Mom, Dad, Chesturd and Don't-ald)

Days 7-9:  Vancouver to Coastal Oregon
Yo, sometimes I know I can be a bit crit-cal.  Wonder where I get that from?  (MOM.)  But this part of the trip was like crazy awesome.  We stayed at Mom's friend's beach house in Neskowin, Oregon and it.was.dope.  Like, rolling in a dead sea lion dope.  (Been there, done that, holmes!)  Normally, Mom doesn't like to bring me to the beach so much.  It is maybe because of this one time I protected Mom and Dad from a surfer, or maybe this other time(s) that I protected my water bowl from dogs that Mom says was just sniffing but I say they was casin' that shit and water is a valuable resource maybe if it was Mom's Diet Dr. Pepper she'd understand, JEEZ.  Anyways, for some crazy reason, there wasn't anyone else on da beach, so me and Queefter and Doh-nald all got to run around and just be chill and it was rad. 


Dunce-ald drinking salt water, me looking fly, butthead beagle hunting dead crab

Eff making sand castles, this is way funner.

We had such a good-ass time, Mom and Dad didn't even notice when big-boned Donald disappeared in the sand dunes and slower-than-stop Chester ate like 12 pounds of dead crab and other seafood and then had a face that was even stupider than his normal face until he puked up about 11 pounds of dead crab and then seemed to feel better (but his face was still stupid).
 
Days 10-11:  Coastal Oregon to Coastal CA to Home Sweet Echo Parque
I totally didn't want to leave Oregon.  It was probably like Mom feels when she has to leave her plate. But then we got to da Redwoods.  And WHOA.  There was trees there that was older than old-face Chester.  By, like 3,000 years.  I tried to play it cool but DANG I couldn't freakin' help myself I had to stand up and check out that shit.

First we went to da Trees of Mystery which was awesome cuz I could go.  I was hoping they'd have a rule against assfaces but once again, this bitch was outta luck like Mom's outta pants that fit.  We even got to ride in a gondola which was cooler than eatin' the inside of Chester's ears.  The best part of the gondola was when we was gettin' on to go back down and Chestwerp wouldn't get on and the thing was in constant motion so you gotta get on and the guy runnin' the thing had to pick his big bunghole up and hand him to Dad who almost dropped him but didn't (can't get lucky every time I guess).  


hard to look cool when you are so freaking PSYCHED



There is a house carved into a tree.  I want to live there.  Alone.  Dad can visit.  I'll meet Mom for coffee.

Then as we was driving back to my hood, we stopped to see the golden gate bridge.  Chester got excited because he thought it meant we was rich.  Sometimes I forget how much I hate him.  Actually, wait, no, I never do.


Golden Gate Chola

Anyways, overall da trip was rad, even though it was a bit hard to catch my zzzs with Chestard's salmon breath in my face and Donald's giganto blockhead blockin' my view. 


Donald's head is the Sun, only a Sun that, like, destroys life.