So this will be my second attempt at posting this damn thing.  Myspace’s “unexpected error” killed the first one and I didn’t copy it so it was lost.  I shall try to recreate the masterpiece to the best of my abilities.  Anywho…

Stacy & I had originally planned on going to Chicago this past weekend so that Stacy & her dad could walk a half marathon.  Stacy’s mom vetoed that trip so Stacy decided that she wanted to go to Hell instead.  The main reason for going to Hell was because there was a travel bug (it’s a geocaching thing) in the Afton forest preserve by DeKalb of a Devil bobblehead that was looking to be taken back to Hell.  So we went to the forest preserve to get this travel bug so we could then take him and release him in Hell.

It was a hard fight to find the little devil because it was in some thick ass brush underneath a forest of pine trees.  We had to penetrate the force fields of the pines and get underneath and fight through the branches and weeds and thorns of the underbrush until we finally found his hiding place.  We then go and find another geocache site before returning to the car.  This forest preserve was crazy.  They had a random bell in the forest for no reason and no marker to explain it.  I decided to act like Igor from Frankenstein and ring the bell while holding the Devil.

That is what is happening in this picture I swear.

Stacy then saw this No Swimming sign and thought it was hilarious that the people of Afton, Illinois need a sign to tell them not to swim in the WEEDS!

We had the Devil and we were ready to take off for Hell…the next day.

We looked up some stuff on the internet to see what else there was to do around Hell to add to the trip.  We saw that Jackson, Michigan claimed to be the birthplace of the Republican Party so I was interested but then We found this on roadsideamerica dot com:

Back in December, Mr. Chicken — a rooster — lost his legs when they froze to the ground. Jackson, MI veterinarian, Tim England, had a physical therapist make a set of fake legs for him. The plastic prosthetics made the bird a media sensation.

Last month, Mr. Chicken lost his life defending his hen house, probably from raccoons. England has promised that “we will bury him in the flower garden with his legs on. He will get a headstone because he was a famous little guy.”

We at Roadside America applaud this sentiment, and hope that the headstone is big and ornate and worthy of a side trip to go see. But we also advise Dr. England to get it done now. When the last deformed fowl that became a national hero — Andy, The Footless Goose of Hastings, NE — was murdered in 1991, the town raised $10,000 to build a monument. It’s six years later: the money’s still in the bank, and the world slowly forgets both Andy and Hastings. [07/13/1997]

Who wouldn’t want to drive 4 1/2 hours to go see that after reading it?  What a moving story.  I decided that we HAD to go.

It moved me to tears it was so emotional:

Then it was just disturbing walking back to our car as we passed the dumpster for the animal hospital…what cruel bastards!!!!

Leaving the hospital I saw a sign that reminded me why I went after Jimmy Jacobs in Illinois and Indiana instead of Michigan:

I hate his guts but I don’t hate his guts that damn bad!

It was then on to Hell!!!!

We then ate ice cream in Hell!

Inside the ice cream shop they had this item…very confusing to me!

They also had a Moses action figure but I don’t like Sox enough to put a picture of that in here 😛

We bought some post cards and went next door to the country store/post office where they burn the post cards and postmark them HELL to be sent to your friends.

I like the little sign above the doorway saying “GO TO HELL” hehehe

They have this which is what everyone needs to chip in together and get me for my birthday…November 8th peeps…

It was then time to go release the Devil into Hell.  The geocache was in this forest preserve up the road.  We parked the car and walked half a mile out into this wilderness.  It was so woodsy that the GPS unit was saying that it could be 45 feet off on its location in any direction.   That is a lot of area to cover in a forest when you are looking for something that is hidden.  I spent 2 hours in the woods ladies and gents and we didn’t find the damn thing.  We ended up having to go to another one up the road that wasn’t in as bad of a forest.  The Devil is resting nicely in Hell unless he has been picked up by another geocacher already.  We got a squishy ball in return.

It was time to get out of Hell but we saw this sign and I couldn’t help but stop in the middle of the road and be a smart ass:

The roads in and out of Hell are a joke.  We had to make all these left turns to stay on the same named roads (Doyle) because if we went straight through an intersection the name would change.  It took us a while to figure out the crazy shit on the way to Hell but we had no troubles getting out.  I figured it would be easier to get into Hell than to get out of Hell but I guess I was wrong.

I guess that about sums up our trip to Hell.  It was more fun than I thought it would be.

So everyone GO TO HELL.   You GO TO HELL AND YOU DIE!