ON THIS VERY NIGHT. TEN YEARS AGO. ALONG THIS VERY STRETCH OF ROAD (JUST PAST THE FRUIT LOOP & NORTH OF THE AIRPORT IN A DENSE FOG OF CIGARETTE SMOKE JUST LIKE THIS
MALIBU MIKE SAT BARE ASS IN A REFRACTORY PERIOD AFTER WITHDRAWING MIDGET PORN IMAGES FROM HIS SPANK BANK. WE THOUGHT HE WAS PASSED OUT & LET HIM BE. WE WERE WRONG. DEAD WRONG
WHEN HE AWOKE AT HIGH NOON THE BATHROOM DOOR OPENED LIKE AN OLD WESTERN SALOON. THE LAS VEGAS SUN BURNED HIS SILOUETTE INTO MY MEMORY. AND THE STORY HE WROTE THOUGHOUT THE NIGHT ON SINGLE PLAY,
A few years ago, Evan, Mike and I went to Yellowstone on our way up to the Pink Palace in Montana.
Had a few drinks, Ogilvie claims to have kissed two mexican girls, and we might have almost been throw out of the bar. The next morning, Evan orders these terrible looking runny eggs from the breakfast buffet and compliments them with a nice Budweiser. This slideshow/video chronicles our trip out of Yellowstone.
