I was out looking at some property in Southern California in the Palm Springs and El Centro areas recently. It’s summertime here and the desert areas are HOT, and full of drunk guys with guns shooting in the middle of nowhere and dirt bikers all over the place, in their tight form fitting uniforms full of testosterone all banged up vying for first place to take home that award and prove to their sponsors they’re worth another round of cash to fix their bikes and upgrade to new equipment.
By chance I ran real late one night and the only close place to stay was a crap desert motel, the likes of which Norman Bates would tend to. I love crappy run down places and scrappy fixer upper straight guys so I had no issue putting down my $30 for a place to rest my head that night. Close to midnight some banging and howling, coupled with the sounds of beer cans being open, woke me up. I peaked outside to see a bunch of drunk dirt bikers half out of their uniforms shooting the shit about their days spoils. I never miss an opportunity to hang with drunk straight guys! I downed a couple shots real quick, threw on my shorts and shirt then headed out to see what I could bring back ? More of the story later, but for now enjoy Stan
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Good man