Face tats

Blog on the Run correspondent Miss July recently filed this report about a lingerie store hostage situation in a part of the country near and dear to Dr. Willy Loman's heart.

Rivera walked in to the business with what appeared to be a bomb, allowed two customers to leave and held a female store manager hostage, police Lt. David Sportsman said. Sportsman did not give any information about a motive or why Rivera targeted the store. ... Authorities did not find an explosive device. The false bomb was made with Play-Doh, batteries and wire arranged like an explosive. The arrest report said the man carried a fake gun.

You see, Dr. Loman (formerly The Sport Writer) has filed one entry during his time on staff on this Web site so any and all news about his new redneck address will get play on Blog on the Run.

- From the desk of Art McGregor

Who's fuckin' the ugly chick?

BY DR. WILLY LOMAN
Blog on the Run senior writer

YAKIMA, Wash. - Just a three-day holiday weekend away from the cross-country drive, and the Es-Cape (French for poor gas mileage) is ready to roll. Wine Snob joins me for the trip east and wants to see “the shit that lies between New York and L.A. ” He’s a strong asset since his occupation, wine maker, is about a six on the wet-panty scale (somewhere between “I’m in a band you’ve never heard of” and “I’m in medical school right now.”) Any chick drinking wine in our vicinity will deal with him dropping phrases like “what’s the vintner on that?” and “you should really try this wine, made it myself.” (If restaurants/bars serve Washington wine, he’s golden.)

Wine Snob doesn’t understand the Midwest (or the Great Lakes Region if you’re a tool), so I’m anticipating some interesting reactions. He expects to spy at least three tornadoes and have a cow fly over the Es-Cape during this trek. For some reason people all across the country think tornadoes are a daily occurrence in Ohio. They also deem me crazy for wanting to live somewhere with (GASP!) humidity. All of their stories start with, “I got off the plane and just couldn’t breathe! I don’t know how anyone gets anything done out there.”

My reply is simple to Washington snobs: “How many presidents are from Washington? Thanks for the shitty coffee, though. Those stands provide a place for guys to do the first-date interview and get out relatively cheap without appearing chincy.” (How is chincy not a word and ginormous is?)

Fucking Washington. There are a lot of assholes in this state who think they’ve got it all figured out. One thing I do expect to hear from Wine Snob during our journey is this: “You’re right, Columbus is better than Seattle.”

Here are some other great expectations:

1) Woo Miss July.

2) Complain to park ranger at Mt. Rushmore: “Why the fuck isn’t Reagan on there?”

3) Confuse berated park ranger further: “And where the hell is Bill Clinton?”

4) Utter the phrase: “Fucking South Dakota.”

5) Laugh when Yo Adrians yells “Who’s fucking the ugly guy?” at a group of Wisconsin co-eds.

6) Think “Boozing in Bozeman” is hilarious.

7) Say “Fuck Notre Dame” while having sexual relations with Tits McGee (recent ND grad).

8) Pop Dre, take sip, shatter bottle.

9) Hear “nice hair” from AMG

10) Say “Is that Kanye?” anytime a black person passes by in Chicago.

This article was penned on Thursday, July 3.

Cross-country malarkey

BY DR. WILLY LOMAN
Blog on the Run senior writer

YAKIMA, Wash. - Hello? Testing, one, two, three. Is this blog on? By the looks of the comment section it isn’t.

The great Art McGregor asked me to write for this online rag. Who could turn down a chance to spew screed for the German Village Media Family of Blogs? At least anything I post is better than that Sports Writer guy. Get a haircut and a real job you hippie!

Thursdays I’m supposed to put on my scribe suspenders and write something. I tend to be thirsty on those days, and alcohol rarely helps me remember deadlines. AMG used to threaten my job when I didn’t do stories for him; now his only power is snarky text messages comparing me to athletes or political figures who let him down.

He’s good at those: “Don’t Danny Ferry me today,” is a lame attempt from me.

Sporadic will best describe me since I’m about to start a cross-country journey and a new job at Fossil Publishing writing newspaper articles. Seth is coming out here for my going-away bash at Yakima’s trendiest night club, Victoria Continental, and just dropped off a complementary bucket of women on his way across I-90. He said something about a retirement party for a guy named Bill in Seattle.

Once he’s done with that malarkey, the real adventure starts July 8 with Wine Snob in the navigator chair. There’s scheduled stops in Bozeman, Mont., to pay my respects to “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.” Then our crew begins the great crossing of North Dakota before reaching Chicago for a few days. (Seth says he met Kanye at the Super Bowl.)

If nobody dies from dysentery, the oxen hold up and I avoid fording too many rivers, we should arrive in C-Bus around July 16-18ish.

Jose Canseco was supposed to meet up with me and AMG for a reunion but just bailed. Our triumvirate ruled Fogarty’s on football Sundays in Key West, but lately he’s been busy. His lame text-message excuse was accepted the moment I heard the UPS man ring the doorbell.

"A-Rod is being a bitch again, so I’m hitting another book out of the park. My fault. See you, AMG and The Godfather on your cross-country tour stop in C-Bus. The 40-40 club is my goal for the night. The bottle of 'Dre on the table is from me."

Cheers.