jackassworld

I can’t describe in words what it means to travel. I am a poor soul—with not even much of a way with words—that seems to end up staying in one place for long periods. One tends to forget what the world is like when one stays at home: a lot of hotels and restaurants, and hot and weird people. Being in jail is assuredly strange because of what it’s like to finally get out. The end result of getting out on the road is that you find out how poor you really are. These people in something called the Gumball 3000 ended up in Las Vegas, and after partying, put all the cars on a plane and continued the race in North Korea. I can’t foresee myself ever having the money to do that. Maybe close, but no cigar. Of course I may be able to ride along once like Knoxville did, but not have the option as himself of funding the entire thing!!!

I love the sensation traveling creates when you make it back home. For the first time I really felt like I lived in Hollywood. In the past, Hollywood was always interesting to me, but then a lot of my friends moved here, and I remember Jeff Tremaine saying once in some snazzy place, “This is Hollywood.” I’d lost touch with what this place is in all the chaos. I do know that long periods spent in Hollywood are not that great: it’s the wrong place for that. Also I am not in the movie business just because I live here and don’t type up books and take them to the money store: America can come off as a bit of a fantasy land. Sometimes I think that I am supposed to be a famous person, but am not. Maybe someday I could finally buy a car and a computer, and then might consider myself as so, but fame means nothing anyway when you sit and stare at a blank piece of paper. Writing isn’t much of a “sport,” it’s far too lonely of a craft.

Somehow it all worked out and a couple of cars passed by our van. I must say these cars looked so cool, reading “Gumball” on them and the rest covered with sponsorship stickers. Bam Margera and Ryan Dunn supposedly had car trouble with their Lamborghini last year so decided to drive their Land Rover, or something. Loomis looked out of it from the extensive driving, and I noticed Bam was face down on his bed the whole evening in Vegas. I went to the big party with my crew, but was disappointed with all of the women that showed up for it: “kind of hot.” Non-athletic looking, non-super-cute or anything, and some sort of showed that people in Vegas are a bit run down. I ran myself into the ground and spent all my money on gambling.

Me and Kosick’s driver, Crash, fit in well and is super. You will never meet him though because you live off in some dinky town that has no flair. Kosick has always been a workhorse: rumor has it that he has taken one million photos. He thought the party totally sucked. I don’t seem that clued into things that suck as well as he, but I think that most people suck so I’m back to sitting in my apartment until the next idea. The Gumball Rally is far more interesting than anything I could ever think of. I do live in Hollywood, for better or worse this is, and someday I will own my own roadside hotel. Thanks for the livelihood, I will always be a crummy American, wish me luck. —Earl Parker

(photo by Earl Parker; 2008)