Welcome to the state of Utah!
You might have just gotten lost on your way to Vegas from Denver, but we don’t think it’s an accident.
You’ll love our world famous postmodern architecture and French cuisine.
Our picturesque mountains and wide-open desert.
We have rocks so red they entirely sway the political leaning of our state
We have so much desert, we make Saudi Arabia look like the Pacific Northwest
But come,
Visit the city of Lehi, a quaint little European town famous for their Belgian waffles and crepes
Or take a romantic boat ride down the canals of Orem.
Come on out to the Great Salt Lake and lounge on our fly ridden, rocky beaches. Is that a woman’s hand on your thigh? No, it’s a dead birds spine.
If you like women, well then you’re in luck, because its true you can marry as many as you want, as long as at least one of them is below the age of
18 feet of snow is how much snow we get in Utah and that’s just before thanksgiving. Have back problems, well good luck shoveling.
Visit the bohemian town of Sandy where hippies and crust punks alike decorate the streets with Rembrandt-like graffiti.
Did I say graffiti? I meant to say ads for breast implants!
Did I say hippies? I meant to say people who drive hummers.
Like alcohol? So do we, which is why we made sure you can purchase alcohol at any of our three state-run liquor stores. Besides Sunday they’re open at least 12 hours a week.
We’ve also made sure that you can no longer get daily discounts on liquor or higher than 3.2 alcohol percentage in your beer, because we want everyone to see how great our Wasatch mountain river water makes the beer taste.
Sure, you could go skiing on the mountains or climbing in the desert, but who wants to do that when you could be waiting in line to get your very own nude Republicans calendar signed and autographed by Glenn Beck himself, while he holds a baby, an American flag and a shotgun in the same hand.
Do you like socialism? Liberal politics? You’ll love our progressive legislature, run by some of the most forward thinking individuals since the USSR.
These rich white men always have the best interests of the people in mind, especially the poor.
Do you like shopping centers and strip malls that look exactly like other shopping centers and strip malls halfway across the country
Do you like diversity? Or handguns? Well we only have lots of one of these and I can guarantee you that most people are scared more by one than the other.
Our state symbol is the beehive, because we’re the only state north of Guatemala to have, that’s right, killer bees.
Are you 16 and looking to get married? Come to Utah!
The 24th of July is more of a celebration than the fourth of July, but neither of these are anything compared to the amount of fireworks that’ll shoot off in your head when you discover the T.V. show Touched by an Angel was filmed right here.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
He Had Always Wanted to Go to Europe
He had always wanted to go to Europe. Or South America. The two locations held what, in his mind, were the necessary ingredients to a happier life. But they were distant, both financially and logistically, and of course, geographically. He thought of these countries in the same way as he thought of falling in love with a woman. Lovely, and yet a remote possibility. Something had always prevented him from going, he felt. There was school to finish, a career to start. His father had always pressed upon him the idea of stability. There was the time he went broke from trying to start a small business. There was the time his mother got sick, and died.
And then, there was the philosophical opposition in his mind against traveling. It wasn’t because he was a square, or neurotic, or too straight-laced, or something like that. In fact it was quite the opposite. He was adventurous, whimsical, and possessed exactly the average amount of courage, as was the norm for everyone else. Rather, it was in his nature to be different that kept him from travelling. These days, everyone traveled, he thought. Everyone studies abroad and travels to Spain after they graduate from college. His sister was in France this moment with one of her sorority friends, drinking wine and pretending they were cultured and adventurous. She had probably slept with someone, some young French artist, it would have been the thing to do.
He thought of travelling as a bourgeoisie luxury. He didn’t want to be living a life of bourgeoisie luxury.
So when someone had offered him the chance to go to Belgium for a rather unusual task, he didn’t know what to say.
“John,” they said. “We would like you to go to Belgium, our nephew, well….he broke his leg. He was drunk and missed his train to Luxembourg. He was traveling the world, first with friends, and then by himself. He was scheduled to go home the next day. He would like some help getting back. Our little precious you know, he’s nineteen.”
“Why, me?” he asked.
“Well, you’ve always been such a hard worker for us, and, well, you don’t have a girlfriend, or a family, do you?”
He shook his head.
“And well…” the woman faltered in her speech at this point “…you’ve seemed a little, well, mopey lately.”
“Mopey?”
“Well, yes, I mean sad, not like, lazy.”
Her husband shook his head in agreement.
He, John, didn’t say anything.
He was halfway to Belgium at midnight the next day, flying over the Atlantic Ocean. His employer’s nephew was waiting for him in the Hilton. John could barely contain his excitement to be in Europe. This other kid however, his name was Chad, or Chuck, something like that, was depressed and tired of Europe. They had three days before their plane left. John wanted to go explore the city. And so he did. He went on a train, he went a canal ride and he walked the streets. He ate waffles and drank coffee and smoked cigarettes on an outdoor patio. Drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes on an outdoor patio beneath a Venetian sort of hanging was something he had always wanted to do. This other kid, Charlie or whatever, just sat in the Hotel watching American Reality T.V. shows.
A week later, he was back. The nephew, returned safely, his older employers happy, and he, John, had visited Europe. Now that he had visited Europe however, he was not sure what else he had to look forward to.
And then, there was the philosophical opposition in his mind against traveling. It wasn’t because he was a square, or neurotic, or too straight-laced, or something like that. In fact it was quite the opposite. He was adventurous, whimsical, and possessed exactly the average amount of courage, as was the norm for everyone else. Rather, it was in his nature to be different that kept him from travelling. These days, everyone traveled, he thought. Everyone studies abroad and travels to Spain after they graduate from college. His sister was in France this moment with one of her sorority friends, drinking wine and pretending they were cultured and adventurous. She had probably slept with someone, some young French artist, it would have been the thing to do.
He thought of travelling as a bourgeoisie luxury. He didn’t want to be living a life of bourgeoisie luxury.
So when someone had offered him the chance to go to Belgium for a rather unusual task, he didn’t know what to say.
“John,” they said. “We would like you to go to Belgium, our nephew, well….he broke his leg. He was drunk and missed his train to Luxembourg. He was traveling the world, first with friends, and then by himself. He was scheduled to go home the next day. He would like some help getting back. Our little precious you know, he’s nineteen.”
“Why, me?” he asked.
“Well, you’ve always been such a hard worker for us, and, well, you don’t have a girlfriend, or a family, do you?”
He shook his head.
“And well…” the woman faltered in her speech at this point “…you’ve seemed a little, well, mopey lately.”
“Mopey?”
“Well, yes, I mean sad, not like, lazy.”
Her husband shook his head in agreement.
He, John, didn’t say anything.
He was halfway to Belgium at midnight the next day, flying over the Atlantic Ocean. His employer’s nephew was waiting for him in the Hilton. John could barely contain his excitement to be in Europe. This other kid however, his name was Chad, or Chuck, something like that, was depressed and tired of Europe. They had three days before their plane left. John wanted to go explore the city. And so he did. He went on a train, he went a canal ride and he walked the streets. He ate waffles and drank coffee and smoked cigarettes on an outdoor patio. Drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes on an outdoor patio beneath a Venetian sort of hanging was something he had always wanted to do. This other kid, Charlie or whatever, just sat in the Hotel watching American Reality T.V. shows.
A week later, he was back. The nephew, returned safely, his older employers happy, and he, John, had visited Europe. Now that he had visited Europe however, he was not sure what else he had to look forward to.
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