SanAntone

Smoochie's Travel Journal

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SanAntonio

Day One

Well, I've hopped in the car with Russell and we're headed down I-35 to San Antonio. We're gonna go visit his wife's grandparents and just relax for a while. I noticed he locked the doors as we went through Waco- said he didn't want me getting any ideas. I tell ya- mention just ONCE that you might like to form a cult to get some money and free booze and he never forgets it. I think he's gonna let me drive part of the way, as long as I stay sober. I can't stand being sober- it's not natural. Think I'll just sun on the dashboard for a while.

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Day Two

We went to the Alamote today. Wait-oh, Alamo. Never can remember that. Got to sit on the feet of Jim Bowie's statue with Fran. I posed for a few pics with tourists but the cheapskates wouldn't pay for my autograph. Jerks.

Day Three

Hey, it's pretty nice down here. Quiet neighbourhood and lots of trees. Pond over there for when I need a lilypad. Across the valley, I've noticed a big house on the hill there. They told me George Straight lives there. Not sure who that is, but I bet he's got a big liquor cabinet in that big house. Fran and I better check it out.

Day Four

Okay, I'm in trouble. Evidently this George guy is a country music star and I didn't realize it. Unfortunately, country music causes my Turret's Syndrome to act up and I start to swear and throw things, even when I'm contentedly inebriated. I don't recall much after that first twang that came out of the guitar, but evidently I really tore the place up. Plus Fran sat in the chocolate mousse and her being a poisonous frog and all, everyone but she and I got sick. One of the kitchen staff helped me escape (he hates his boss- that's why he spits in the food) and he gave me an address where I can hide out from 'The Federales.' It's a few miles away on another hill, but this one just has hunting places and no real homes.

Day Five

I'm running out of Booze, I used the last of my Pop Rocks last night and now I've got NAFTA surrounding the place. What's a frog to do? I wish Russell would find me. He always pulls me out of jams. Mmmm...jam sounds good right now.

Day Six

I got out of there by the skin of my teeth- and we frogs don't have much in the tooth department. I clung to the belly of a deer and rode him safely back to the house where we were staying. Fran rode on his head and gave directions. I wasn't worried about hunters at this time of year. They're still in the hard-drinking phase and haven't gotten into 'Go Shoot Something' mode. I'm just going to sleep in the back of the car until we get home.

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