El Jefe admires the local Greyhound terminal, replete with late night accoutrements. The pickup truck was well insured but the muffler was scraping the ground, preventing needed maintenance. A reminder that all you need is one thing to ruin your vacation to the desert.

Cache Creek, B.C. The truck was fully insured, but underneath the muffler was clearly sitting topside. A few hours later, the truck, and it's owner, disappeared. The problem this weekend was poor visibility and lack of clear fluids, but we adapted. The Friday night show saw El Jefe pumping the hell out of his Dearmond, soloing like some kind of Jimmy Hendrix tribute over heartful reflective lyrics. Goes to show you you just never know what will possess our leader during a show, but it's usually part of the evil stuff, part of the roadhouse kill.