Its a tuesday morning and I think I'm right about where Utah used to be (or what used to be Utah, I guess- whichever one it is, whatever it is now). Things are cleaner, better here in the south-west. My theory is that its all nice out here because there isn't really any reason for living out here unless you are running from something. Used to be that I knew a whole gaggle of Mormons, out in Kirtland, before Kirtland became just another 'burg outside the CZ. They said thats why Salt Lake got founded; a whole bunch of Mormons on the run from everybody. Well I've got nobody and I'm on the run from pretty much everybody, so it seems I'm following in their footsteps. The horse I got from those Good Old Boys got shot dead one night after I crossed the Mississippi river, shot by some assholes who were joy-riding on one of those old fashioned Casino Ships. Just a bunch of hooligans, I guess, because they didn't even disembark. So I've been hoofing it, avoiding big towns mostly, just scavanging off the smaller out of the way places that have already been abandoned. Gets lonesome, though. I think the next friendly dog that comes out to try to beg from me I'm going to try to befriend. I found a whole stash of those Vienna Sausages in somebodies pantry, some old lady who died when her support infrastructure fell out from under her, when the whole government went batshit insane. I can't stomach the freaking things, though, but I bet a mutt would. So maybe I'll make a friend and settle down for a little bit somewhere, see if I can't make a go of things far away from a city. To hell with cities.