You've been watching "A Shmoe in the Desert." This program was made possible by a grant from the Institute for Supposedly Fun Things That Should Never Be Repeated, The Thank God I'm Back Where There's Real Air Conditioning Foundation…

…and jaded bastards like you.

Special thanks to the people at Bookman's in Tucson for letting me wander in and do a reading. You're really cool folks even though you're all deranged for living someplace that gets that screaming goddamn hot. I really suggest you seek professional help. Or water. Or both. I'm saying this as a friend.

If you're wandering into our tale at the end, feel free to click here and start from the bottom of the page if you want any kind of chronology. Then work your way backwards. You'll figure it out.

When you go to Boot Hill, you enter a building. From that building, there's a door that leads you outside again into the fenced-in cemetery. On the inside of this door, you see this sign:

And when you walk right outside the door, inside the cemetery, you find this:

We know that Tombstone AZ was the site of the battle of the OK Corral. We also know it to be the site of Boot Hill. But as I was walking through the streets of the town and looking in the various shop windows, I came across this display.

Of wizards and dragons.

So I had no idea Tombstone was, in ancient times, Mordor. And aeons before that, it was the lava planet on Level 7 of the ROTSith Game. That explains the heat, still able to be felt today.

If, somehow, I become famous–or even infamous–please. Please. Don't let them name things after me like ham and cheese sandwiches. Do you think Doc Holliday likes going through eternity with a ham and cheese sandwich named after him? Does anything about Doc Holliday suggest a ham and cheese sandwich to you? (Granted, I'll be reviewing the soda named after him, but that's another post on a different site.) They can name an espresso drink after me, that's cool. But "Wyatt's Turkey with Provolone"? That's harsh, man. That's what hell is like.

This is hell:

GOD: "We're going to let you into heaven, boys."

TOMBSTONE GANG (Earps, Clantons and others): "Sweet! Thanks, Big G!"

GOD: (snickers) "Don't mention it."

WYATT: "Um…why is everyone laughing at us?"

When you're supposed to be a badass cowboy and folks are laughing at you and asking how the ice cream sundae business is going…that's what hell is like. I'm convinced.

Yes, I concur. They are other nations.

Very, very tasty nations.

That go well with fries.

This is probably not an original idea, but surely this is being implemented somewhere…a real-time traffic wiki.

Basically, the traffic reports on the radio are there to tell you about the big shit going down. Sites like Georgia Navigator where I live can tell you the same: travel time, construction and whatnot. They serve their purpose.

But what about everyone else? Coming down a smaller side street (five lanes), there's a truck stalled out in the right hand lane. Why shouldn't I be able to post that information with a few clicks and tell everybody else what's up? Why shouldn't other people be able to come behind me later and give an all clear? Or updates? Hell, we (the huddled masses) can react faster to things than the traffic choppers or anybody else.

So who's got this one? Because I'm busy as hell over here.

Sitting behind me are two guys who look like they could be wrestlers. Manly men. Lots of testosterone.

These two are the whiniest bitches I've ever had the displeasure of overhearing during a flight.
Yes, I appreciate there is no air. I don't know how often you've flown, but there's never any goddamn air. In case you haven't noticed, all the air is outside the plane.

Yes, I appreciate it is taking a long time to deplane. But somehow I don't think it's something against you personally. In fact, if I didn't have to run a longer distance in a shorter amount of time to make my connecting flight than you do, something else you're whining about, I would have hit my attention button and suggested to the stewardess that I would gladly give up my afternoon in order to make you and your buddy's life a living, sweltering hell.

Hopefully you will thank your gods that I and my out of control facial hair have been disarmed during our previous adventure. I just spent a week in the desert and my opinion of humanity is greatly diminished.