Skinny Pete and Big Bubba Joe

In the days of yesteryear Nickelodeon made a show called, "The Adventures of Pete and Pete."

I never watched it.

I may not have the right to bash it.

But I'll do it anyway.

They obviously didn't see this coming. Alex and Phil, Phil and Alex, either way you say it it means "too legit for television." Luckily we have the Internet and anything is legal here. It just depends on how repressive your government is. God Bless America.

So we've been apart for 8 months. You may think that's not that long since we live hundreds of miles apart, but to us that is an exorbitant and ungodly amount of time. We've made up for it. God Bless America.

We started off our reunion at a complete stranger's house with a scream, followed by a spit shake, followed by a hug. Immaturity, audacity and Weezer music are like oxygen in this relationship. The image above is of us holding hands, jumping off a rock and clicking our heels as we plummet toward a rocky river bed. God Bless America.

Today, we drove from St. George to Provo in style. Luckily we each had our own vehicle, allowing us to take multiple perspectives of the road simultaneously and create a road block for any chuffer who we felt deserved it. God Bless America.

Under the aliases of Skinny Pete and Big Bubba Joe we navigated the difficult course through a constant barrage of redneck banter: our instruments, $25 Wal-Mart walkie talkies, our language, trucker. Four hours of people watching on the road is way cooler when you're speaking like a hick into a radio. The trip was magical until Satan reared his ugly head and smote Skinny Pete's walkie talkie with a loss of power. Luckily our love for our country and the fact that we only had thirty miles left helped us to pull through. God Bless America... and no one else.