Old Country For No Men (Part 2)

What follows is the exciting conclusion of the trip to Arizona, home of the...well, you got me. I have no idea what the fuck they have here. Sand and rocks...there's a lot of that. Oh, and cactus. Mexicans, mountains, heat, fucking sun-sun-sun, adobe style homes and the Cardinals...but I don't follow basketball.

Anyway, another pictorial essay. Enjoy.

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Me, looking like total garbage, smoking like a fiend, showing off my double chin and starting to hate the idea of getting back in my fucking car.
















Passing some ominous looking cliffs. The "Caution, Falling Rocks" sign made me cry a little.
















The sky over the New Mexico/Texas border letting me know I am not welcome in the great American west. They don't take too kindly to folks like me out here...you know, white people.

















Mikey looking excited to finally drop dime and let me know I have no 'big house' to stay at in Phoenix and that he is in fact going to 'Ledger' me right in my 'Gyllenhall' as soon as we cross the Arizona border.

















I managed to actually stay awake for the five and a half seconds it took to take this picture as we crossed the border. I was a fucking crazy Baptist Zombie by this point in the trip.

















And, of course, we rolled some film. Thanks for the education Full Sail.

They take your dreams. Seriously!