You keep what you kill

Mesa Verde. You can read all about it in Wikipedia, so I'm not going to repeat the obvious. It's fascinating and really, really strange. First of all, it's a rather long drive until you've reached the area where all the action is. There is, of course, a visitor center and you can book a ranger guided tour. So we booked the tour that promised the most excitement in terms of climbing and crawling. But I guess it's all tailored to fat people. There was more safety talk and good advice than steps on the ladder ... . Nevermind, still worth it and I even got to play deputy ranger, yee-ha motherfucker.  I discovered another artifact - no, not Rommel, but Wooster!!! Much more friendly anyway. So we did a couple of hours of hiking and that's really nice, along the side of the cliffs and all, hot and sunny, nice desert flowers, interesting colours ... ... and lizards. I LOVE LIZARDS! Nature Red in Tooth and Claw:

Der Sommerhit überhaupt, meine Nachbarn lieben das Ding schon über alles, da bin ich mir sicher! :-) Kaufen. Laut aufdrehen und Bass!

Tell you what, it's totally hard to judge those distances in the sand dunes. And it's a nice workout, too - three steps back for every step you take. But all the sweat was worth something - I discovered a secret that's going to turn the world of historians upside down: Rommel lives - in Colorado! Here's the proof - old desert fox hiding in his flying saucer under one of those giant dunes ... :  Well, after unearthing this we were in desperate need of some refreshment and I can wholeheartedly recommend Milagros Coffeehouse in Alamosa . I had one of the best iced mochas ever and they had supertasty cinnamon rolls! Go Milagros! We had not really made up our minds how far we wanted to go west, but with all this lovely food and drink we decided to head straight to Mesa Verde. Turns out that the closest village is Mancos, just a couple of clicks from the NP entrance. The accommodation in the park itself was booked out. So we stayed at the Enchanted Mesa Motel , w

Gewundert, warum ich nix zur EM mitzuteilen hatte? Weil mir die ganze Scheiße auf den Sack geht. Um es mal ganz einfach und deutlich zu sagen. Die ganzen Spiele werden nur noch für Heineken, Coca-Cola, Mastercard, Sony und Co ausgetragen  und natürlich die schmierigen Funktionäre. Am Schlimmsten sind die widerlichen, selbstgerechten Schiedsrichter. Insofern: Ich froie mich, wenn Deutschland verliert. Die Froindin froit sich, wenn Balotelli das Shirt auszieht. Und wir alle froien uns, wenn die Spanier so geilen Fußball spielen wie im Finale. Ansonsten höre ich grade Songs men have died for - retro style pur. Aber noch schlimmer als alle oben genannten zusammen sind die Reporter und Kommentatoren. Hier wünsche ich mir wirklich amerikanische Verhältnisse - wie im Kino, nur ohne Ladehemmung. Wie geil wäre das denn, wenn auf einmal einer aufsteht am Strand von Usedom und die Usedomina und Kahn zusammen mit der Internetschlampe dahinmetzelt? Oder wenn Bela Rehty in Kiew von zwei Strichern mi