July 18-25, 2004 Tucson/Las Vegas

Driving out into the foothills from Tucson, pristine bolts of lightning were darting behind the mountains. This is the smell of rain.
From a house in the foothills that overlooks the city, the landscape is nothing more than a Light Bright.
It's hard to leave out the year-old stain on the wall that actually worked itself into the wall and could not be washed away. In case you are blind, it says, "Suck Galanty fuck meat."
In a stupid attempt to do something artistic, one might think that taking a picture of the view of the road from side mirror would suffice.
This is the Hoover Dam. For some reason, there are plenty of places to park and snap photos on this side of the dam, but not so much on the other side, you know, the one that's a more famous view.
That's Lake Mead in the background. You're getting closer to Vegas when you pass through here.
This is Las Vegas. I think the next few photos are pretty self-explanitory. Like Snakes on a Plane.
Bellagio. This is the only casino on the entire strip that took money from me. I think I lost $100 here in a span of maybe six minutes.
The Venitian.
Walking back to our hotel as the sun was coming up, decidedly drunk and (at this point, I think) both still ahead as far as the money was concerned. There was a silent, unspoken "Two drinks at each casino before we leave" rule in effect. From Treasure Island down to Monte Carlo.
They're like twins.
The next two nights were filled with drunken, belligerent photographs that would pretty much ensure no one could get elected to public office. So I'll skip to the drive back to Tucson.
There's this little town between Phoenix and the Hoover Dam called Wickenburg. It's like the land time forgot. Reminds me of Deadwood. It's one long main street with a saloon, a gun shop and some restaurants and lounges. The most beautiful little nowhere town I've ever seen. And they breed these incredibly hot blonde girls there. And they all work at the same mexican restaurant.
The Sonoran Desert