It went something like this
Behind the wheel, Mal is majestic.
Serendipitously, Jacq is a master of manning the glove box.
The sketchy black line is us.
Save your pennies and hit the road, y’all. Because you know punching clocks is shit and for people who don’t follow tumblrs.
BREAKING NEWS:
Like Rusty the Dachshund, Mallory Bey suffers from mild narcolepsy.
When excited, Mal has a tendency to pass out.
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On Canada Day, Mal was so elated by Kate’s ‘re-used’ engagement party dress (how SUSTAINABLE) and Maple leaf hat that she collapsed on Parliament Hill.
Earlier this spring, Mal’s dad, Ter-Man bought us tickets to the Grand Ole Opry. (THANKS TER-MAN!)
In the heat of excitement around looking like the perfect hybrid of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’ April O’Neil and The Pink Power Ranger in combination with the possibility of running into Taylor Swift’s guitar tuner, Mal grew faint of heart and light of head:
Our thoughts are with her as she goes deep-sea scuba diving on the Great Barrier Reef in search of Sponge Bob and other excitable aquatic life forms.
Where in the world is Mallory Bey?
At this very moment, Mal is on her way to Australia.
Don’t worry, she’ll be back.
But Jacq is moving to Brooklyn and Mal will be returning to her reign as Miss Mid-Twenties Toronto and thus,
Freeway Fugitives is coming to an end.
NOT JUST YET, though.
We still have a handful of embarrassing jpegs to share with you.
BIRTHDAYS!
Canada is 144 years old today.
While Mal gallivants in thy nation’s capital, I am back in the suburbs with my Ma and pooch.
THE JAVSTER (above, the furriest) is 13 years old today. For those of you who can’t multiply by seven, that’s 91 dog years.
And is she ever still kickin’ it.
Let’s all make a toast to thirteen years of my dog stealing and chewing up my favourite unmentionables.
To celebrate Maple syrup, Alanis Morissette, lacrosse and socialism, The Most Canadian Person in the History of Humanity (MALLORY EFFING BEY) would like to sing y’all a song in lieu of her absence as she flocks to Parliament Hill to catch a glimpse of Kate and Wills.
HAPPY CANADA DAY, HOSERS!
ZITACULAR
As one could imagine, it’s tricky to wash, tone and moisturize one’s face with Evian when you’re busy making an ass of yourself across America.
Rather than hide behind concealer, we thought we would take this opportunity to wear our imperfections proudly as though we were about to attend a casting for The Warriors.
Fact: No zit, blemish or goiter can detract from the sex appeal of the Freeway Fugitives.
FREEWAY FUGITIVES IN NUMBERS
16, 351: Kilometres cruised
(>500 kilometres cruised by Jacq)
321: The number of times Mal shrieked CANADA upon seeing anything (and I mean anything) that even remotely resembled Canadiana.
156: Dollars spent at Tennessee Goodwill Stores
117: The number of songs ruined by Jacq singing along (coming soon!)
120: Iced coffees consumed (50% in styrofoam, 25% in non-recyclable plastic, and 25% in that corn-plastic shit)
84 Mallory Bey - The Rusty Ribcages EP distributed (I CANNOT BELIEVE I AM ONLY JUST LINKING THIS NOW. I am sorry.)
(2 albums autographed upon request)
45: The number of minutes it took to start using y’all unironically upon arriving in Texas.
53: The number of U-Turns executed by superstar driver Mal whilst exhaling loudly.
~30? How many artisanal beers were tasted and documented in Mal’s travelog.
40: The number of burritos consumed (producing even MORE farts and the cracking of car windows!)
17: The number of couches surfed, crashed and not puked upon (we’re so grown up!)
13+ possible personal pronouns we learned that can be used to describe an individual
14: The number of days spent sporting our insta-friend/patriotic/Merka shirts.
(Jacq’s been eating a lot of burritos and hush puppies and switched from Diet Coke to Fat Coke)
9: How many sleeveless blouses we acquired on the road.
7: The number of Hush Puppies Jacq consumed in one sitting.
6.5: The number of hours spent in MacDonald’s parking lots poaching free wifi.
4: moderately ghetto motels in which we slept:
(1 that reaked of Marijuana, 1 with a pool, and 1 with Dolly Parton on the room key)
3: How many times Jacq got drunk off one day beer.
3 Toothbrushes lost
2 1/2 cameras broken.
Infinite Republicans met
0 tears ( YAY! )
READ MY OSCAR-NOMINATED FACE
Natalie Portman and Mila Kunis each choose to play one another’s doppelganger in Black Swan and then they each go on to make the SAME FOLLOW-UP MOVIE.
WE ARE OVERCOME WITH ENNUI.
At least Mila got to deal with a former Mouseketeer while Portman had to simulate the bumping of uglies with a cougar-chasing male model co-star.
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This poster happens to be plastered all around NYC at the moment.
On the G, we saw THIS:
It was the only poster we had seen in the entire city that didn’t have balls drawn on both JT’s and Mila’s faces.
We’ve really enjoyed creating a dialogue to fill this picture that is worth NO MORE than ninety minutes of mono-syllabic words.
JT: “I don’t know, I think I want more…”
Mila: “Oh you think you want more but I am not sure if I want to give you more…”
JT: “You are so hot how could I trust you…”
Mila: “I don’t mean to hurt you but I think it is fun…”
CLIFFHANGER!
When Mal and I return to Toronto we will probably be really PMS-ey at the same time (we’ve spent two months in a car together), and we will most likely have a weak moment, cave, and go and sit in an air-conditioned theatre and drink a litre of Diet Coke to feel better about ourselves and our mutual capacity to make use of polysyllabic words.
