Thursday, May 1, 2008

Strip Sleepin 08 #2

1 comment:

D said...

How do you know he's sleeping?
He could be overcome with sorrow that he wasn't the furst on his block with a Chevy-Plymouth.

Every now and then when your life gets complicated and the weasels start closing in, the only cure is to load up on heinous chemicals and then drive like a bastard from Hollywood to Las Vegas ... with the music at top volume and at least a pint of ether.

-Hunter S. Thompson

Dedicated to the other side of Las Vegas, namely; the sprawling, mad, incoherent underpinnings of the world's favorite destination.

That, and the occasional ranting about nothing in particular.