travelin jim

wheels, crank shafts, nitro. ah, the stuff of life. means to an end that never comes. you get on and you don't get off. but what for? coz your papa was a rollin stone? coz your brudda was a turtle egg smuggler? coz your uncle transported minors across state lines? or is there more to that bug up your ass? why do you wanna see the last of mohicans? or did you miss him? I did. what about you? did you stuff that saddle bag and giddyup at all? yeah? good on you mate. i need to buy my outfit. six horses (can't ride them too hard you know. gotta worry about the terrain and shit) oughta do the trick. and then where do i go? to the next county? drink with the rowdy cousins at the saloon, pick up the local floozie and then canter back home feeling all good and sprightly? no? that's not what its about? gotta sow your oats a little father away? get away from daddy's shadow? not a bad idea, but how far away is far enough? is that far enough away? so then what is it? just get on and go. go for the sake of moving. maybe not even that. go for the sake of being in motion. now we're getting somewhere. and that my friend is why travelin jim is a travelin jack.