A Lot Of Holes In The Desert...A Lot Of Problems Buried In Those Holes

Alright...I know that the mafia buried most of their ill-gotten dead in the desert near Las Vegas and probably never had a reason to pass through Buckeye, Arizona except while cruising the 10 on their way to visit Mickey Cohen in Los Angeles and then on the return trip to put a bullet through Moe Green's eye at the end of "The Godfather" but hey, a girl can dream right?

Never before have I had a bigger lust for the majesty of life and the sudden urge to pop a peyote button and run naked and screaming into the desert stumbling into a darkened cave only to find a full getup Indian Shaman waving a feather at me and before you know it I'm over at the Whiskey creeping everybody out by slipping Oedipus Rex into an eleven minute song about a breakup. Then again, I've never had a bad a case of swamp-ass before either. Man it's hot!

Check out these pictures taken less than a mile from my new abode. The desert is really something else.

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And of course, some film.