I went to Dallas the other day; I ate thirteen worms along the way

A few days ago I wound up in Dallas. It seemed like the right thing to do. I went to the Dealey Plaza Book Depository (or Book 'suppository' as my Dad amusingly brands it. That guy's a wit. Or at least something that rhymes with wit. Sorry papa, again I'm doing jokes). The said Depository was where JFK had his life ended by a bullet which removed a fair segment of his brain. There is a museum there now which is pretty cool. It explains about his life, death and legacy. I hope to one day be honored similarly. All I need is a death and a legacy. And a life.

I also headed to the Conspiracy Museum. It details some of the, well, conspiracies about JFK's death. I must say that many of the arguments that the exhibition gave were very convincing. It leaves you not knowing what to believe. Was it Lee Harvey Oswald from the depository? Was it some dodgy geezer from the Grassy Knoll? Was it the driver of the car that JFK rode in? Who knows? One conclusion I did come to though was this: the gunman certainly was not AlexForce; I've seen him play Timesplitters 2 and he's one of the worst shots around. Burn.

The bus ride (yawn) to Dallas was a story in itself. A very pretty young lady deemed it appropriate to sit next to the Midnight D. 'Lucky girl', I hear yee cry. Well as she was getting 'comfortable' for the journey she saw no harm in resting her right buttock against my left outer-thigh, and proceeded to leave it there for the entirety of the trip. It was the most action I've had in a while, certainly. All it would have taken was for me to pivot to the right about 45 degrees and we would have some arse-to-arse action going on; Requiem for a Dream style. You know, the bit at the end with oscar winning actress Jennifer Connelly. Sordid.

Also, never underestimate the blind patriotism and national pride of the yanks. Chatting on the bus, I mentioned to the girl that I was going to Dallas "to see where JFK got his head shot up". I got some very dirty looks from the hick travelers around me.

I was gonna insert a photo here for Dominic Hudson's benefit. It was gonna be my interpretation of JFK's death. It would have hosted a red t-shirt shrouded around my head, placed strategically to appear like blood and brains and stuff. I chose not to, deeming the act childish.

That's enough for now. Apologies to father for the burn. I couldn't resist scorching both male and female parents in the space of two posts.

Kind regards.

Adam Marshall