It’s the first law of the wasteland, always keep one in the chamber for the ferryman. Things have a tendency to go Murphy out here, and he’s an expensive date to please. Sit tight, and sqwunch your toes in the carpet, because things are gonna get loud and proud in all the worst ways; like three hour spoken word interpretive dance kinda ways. Ya feel me?
Gunfire cuts through the gals, and makes a big mess of a soft summer night. There's no rest for the wicked, and no respite...
The desert stretches out before our gals with inifinite potential of an endless horizon, and the road most traveled (at least, hundreds of years...
Welcome to the new normal, followers, failures and philanderers (who I love just the way you are). Horses in the pool, unspoken alienation and...