You may recall me mentioning my greyhound trip here.
It was crap. No-one tried to decapitate anyone on the bus. The station was clean. All the passengers were quiet and kept to themselves. There were no addicts. Our baggage guy didn't say ass or nasty ho even once. The closest we got to drama was when this mullet dude had his trashy girlfriend with weird pancake flat breasts push their luggage into the info line. That is not a euphemism although you can use it as one if you wish. I didn't take a photo of them because I was afraid I might get shanked.
Anyways, the highlight/lowlight was stopping off at Barstow, a place on the outskirts of California that is pretty much an afterthought. Here's the foodcourt.
This was their water tower.
I think it was full of disappointment and human misery...
Barstow is a place that no one who dreams should ever live in. If Nightmare on Elm Street was set in Barstow Freddy would have been welcomed as a way to get out of the monotonony that was life there. Barstow. Bad.
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