It takes all kinds of critters to make Farmer Vincent's fritters.

Welcome to Little Rock, Arkansas. Bourdain is NOT. FUCKING. HAPPY. Here here is, hiding as much as he possibly can.



He was pretty quiet for a lot of the trip, but he has been so stressed, panting heavily and only shitting and peeing once (not when we pulled over and got out the box later, natch). Mouche is doing pretty well. He's not crazy about it, but he is doing well.

The hotel is decent--free wifi!

We had been aiming for Memphis, but I didn't want to look for a hotel in the dark with outdoor entrances that wasn't scary and had something edible nearby, etc. So we settled for Little Rock.

I also noted just now that right outside Memphis, had we needed to stop early, would have landed us in West Memphis, AR. The town "tends to have crime levels considerably above the national average," not to mention the fact that everyone surely still associates them with The West Memphis 3. (It's not the three convicted kids I have a problem with, it's the town itself. You've heard this rant before, let's move on.)

Anyway, the trip thus far has been gloriously uneventful. The highways have been kinda pretty, actually. Lots of green. The evenings here are really great--no humidity and it's slightly cool.

We chose a place called Razorback Pizza for dinner. It was the most crowded and popular-looking of a cluster of various pizza joints around. This was a plus on its side. A big negative, however (due to possibly being in a less-than-stellar part of Little Rock?) was this on the door:



We were really hungry, we'd seen lots of cops hanging out just up the street and really, it didn't seem like a bad neighborhood. *cough* Hi, mom!



So Razorback. Feral pig, boar, whatever. A little odd, but it's not my place. The little pink ones were cute on top of the salad bar. I did not touch the salad bar. This place had a Mr. Gatti's-meets-Flying-Tomato thing going on, it made me hesitant. (Pizza turned out to be pretty damn good, fyi.)



But hey, fun, whatevs.



It should be noted that the boar/pig thing really isn't creepy until you see him on the side of your beer and all you can think of is Motel Hell.