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.

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!

Old Country For No Men (Part 1)

Thirty eight straight hours in a car driving through a desolate stretch of American wasteland known as Interstate 10 can change a man for the better or for the worse, and since I had nowhere to go but up I'm proud to report that I am better for having inhabited a car that by the end of said journey smelled like feet, stale sweat, ass and McDonald's breakfast sandwiches.

I now present a brief pictorial of my trip from Florida to Arizona by way of Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana,
Texas and New Mexico. I've now seen the southern states coast to coast and I'll just say this: Texas can go fuck itself!

Enjoy.

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Leaving a stormy-ass Florida for the last time in a long time...















Mikey is an asshole and was doing his best to blind me at 3:00 AM while on a tricky stretch of 10 through Houston...asshole!















The man himself, rocking a dead Elvis t-shirt and enjoying a mystery meat McDonald's sandwich somewhere in Texas at dawn.















Much more wit than I would have given the Texans credit for...















The attendant at the gas station across from this oil drill told me he was going to drink my milkshake...then he tried to take off my pants. It was weird.















Mugging...always mugging like a horse-faced jackass. But then again, he is.















The first real mountain I've seen in years. Animal Kingdom is small potatoes compared to God's majesty. Oh, and of course plate tectonics, or whatever.















The sky over New Mexico opening up like a luded-up virgin's legs on prom night in the closet of a Motel 6...
















Next Up: Mikey and I kill a hobo in Louisiana just to watch him die and defile his corpse...

Welcome Party People!

I couldn't bear the thought of making another Myspace profile...fuck that shit. But, I did still want to share my insanely boring life consisting of nothing but banal minutia and periodic moments of mildly humorous wit with you now that I'm so far away from everyone and on my way to epic, unparalled failure out west.

Thank God for free blogware! So, I will be updating this blog every now and again with worthwhile (read:inane) observations about my Horatio Alger-like trek west and regale you all with all the shit you couldn't stand to hear in person...and now you have to waste more time reading...

You're welcome! Faggots!