In Austin, a dude on the street handed us a free "desert rose." In related news, Austin fucking rules.
The show is at Emo's, the best venue in Austin hands down. They have this kickass stool hanging from the ceiling that Johnny Cash sat on in 1994.
Pre-show Sparks imbibements.
Our last night with Fatal Flying Guilloteens. Predictably, they ruled again. Here, Sean rides a dudes head.
Will (aka Boone) rocks inside a garbage can.
More riding.
Rage.
After the show, Boone and Jeff discover that they both have the same indentation in their chest. Whenever you find another person with this oddity you feel an instant connection stronger than family. Jeff needs to get his hole tatted though.
We start driving right after the Austin show towards California. All through the night. In the desert. Here, the van hits 194,000 miles.
Jordan and Matt drive. Beak, Jeff, and Alison crash.
The road dawgs in action. Keeping each other awake.
Mirages.
Sunrise.
At around 7:00 AM 50's buys this arm tatoo sleeve. It's a product designed for people who want to have awkward, stereotypical tattoo designs all over their arm, but don't want to go through the pain/financial investment involved in a conventional tattoo.
Southwest spirit animal mosaics.
We stop at this awesome roadside shop, painted with a happy cowboy who likes to smoke native american peace pipes.
Beak is smitten with the elephant-related tchotskes, but alas, there a minimum of $300 to purchase.
Spirit Animals.
On the left, a python wearing a top-hat and a mink fur. On the right, a fucked up dude face.
We fit in very well into the southwest culture.
We stop the next night in Tucson and get a cheap motel with a pool. We sit poolside till late, drinking Whiskey Press and swimming leisurely laps. Rock and roll decadence at its finest.
Too much whiskey makes the tummy hurt.
Get your rest boys. San Diego tomorrow.
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