Kippdate

I will never deny that I am a self-centered person. This entry was supposed to be about me getting my penis stuck in my zipper but something far worse than that is going on.

Kipp has made contact with the Republic of Spritopias. She remains stranded in North Dakota. There is no internet for her, not a library for sixty miles, there is only Dairy Queen in the town where she has been stranded. Truckers are all around her, circling like carrion birds waiting for Paul to drop off so they can have their way with her or just introduce themselves to a girl who shaves her armpits and legs. You cannot even drink the water.

What fresh hell is this?

Also, Paul snores.

Honestly, if I had to get my penis stuck in my zipper again OR spend the weekend in North Dakota, I would take the zipper. The pain has subsided, and I will heal from this. I am not so sure about Kipp and Paul.

If you would like to know exactly where they are then google: �Theodore Roosevelt State Park.�

Leave her mad, mad love in the comments, guest books, and notes.