Separated the wheat from the chaff in the snow

on this trip. I started from the Super 8 in J-Town and headed up to Wells, where I finally sold Kathy on her great general store. Then I did a little research for a mechanic friend of mine in Troy who complained about some bunghole customer and his old Jaguar. Seems everyone there agreed with my friend Pat. It was beatiful and warm, deer just strolling on the hamlet fringe like stray dogs. In Speculator, I met some crazy little woodswomen at a cool little lodge. Sure droned on for hours with some really funny 'Dak stories that made me laugh hard when I could follow her drunken narrative. There was a cool Jersey dude, his uncle had a camp up there for years and he just moved in the 'Daks after he got fired in NJ. Just us three and the staff in the snow!

Indian Lake is pretty slow, no business there. But I did okay in Long Lake, considering 3/4's of the town is empty. I met this one old guy who lost his license and was imprisoned for DWI. He was a remodeler, home builder type who journeyed around to various projects in the region. He got into fight and knew all the sheriffs, troopers and jails, just like Paul Newman in "Nobody's Fool". Then we went to the Adirondack Hotel, where they let us in an got free drinks and food. It was great! The guy taking care of the place just for the night bought in no problem. Just me and the locals while it snowed mad outside, wild! When i got to Tupper Lake through the drifts, it was past 11 pm. I found this one great motel where the old German couple just left keys out at night so you wouldn't wake them. They had all sorts of snacks in the waiting room all night.

Then some fascist Christian jerk, who owned the largest Christian website in the USA, he says, called me an incompetent fraud at the next motel south of mine in Tupper. Then in Saranac Lake, I met this yuppie jerk who controlled the Lake Placid, High Peaks web world, this for real! He laughed at my hick website and said it would never work. We'll see, yuppie cheese, like you're going to drive some dirt hill road in the winter for your biz! The the miserable bar wench, who owned the place, called me a fraud. I hate Lake Placid Saranac, if i needed that abuse, I would've stayed in Albany. Scotty, beam all those miserable phonies up out of there and beam down some woodchucks and country freaks.