Wow, today I streched an hour of real work into 7, (I had to go home early, procrastination really takes it out of me)...two more days of work and I'm off to Vegas. Vegas may be culturally devoid, but it still feels like home. And sometime around eight in the morning, when you find yourself drinking three dollar Walker Black and knee deep in blow in a gay bar with people you just met from Minnesota and a 200 pound mohawked dyke you think to yourself, "God I love this town!"
that is pure poetry, dude.