The Father Of Nothing And Devilbunny Industries

The first day, woke up on a mattress rescued from the trash, in a little room in a trashed vandalized apartment, the "arts'' district of OKC. I woke up in the middle, no food,m no electric, with only a few dollars and a desire to see the world.

So as I pack a small bag and grab a guitar, saying a few goodbyes, i have a new life, a new dream, a lost hope. With the economy dead, no jobs, and no reason to stay, the dream has changed, the worm has turned.

But Why?????

Why did the idea come about?

After 8 years of a cowboy leading us down a dusty trail of war debt and ruin, why not travel the country, and talk and see what happens.

As for me, i am but a voice, a journalist. a pair of eyes. A pen. That's all.

True, i do have my own story, undeniably worth telling,

It may Come and go

As will the plot, should

There Be one.

//

Always,

What a copy CAT, Copy Cunt, A TRAITOR, wait

Collaboration!!!

Celebration!!!!

No Collaborating,

Stuck.

Tired. Barely anything left.

And My muscles are rotten.

Sure.

ONe.

Where to now?

Can't sit here, infront of another Vegas Monstrosity,

60 floors sprouting from Hell,

Through the Nevada Desert,

Nothing to eat,

Little To drink,

Jest need to make it a few Sweaty, Heavy horrible miles, get on a bus,

SOMEWHERE

ANYWHERE

from this town....

Its a sham, more broken than Detroit, more disgusting than Haiti.

it's a pit disguised with golden windows, its slots offering the same odds as crosstopped buildings.

a wasteland.

No dreams here, even as you are winning. It's all losing in Vegas.

No matter the name of the place, its never an encore,

always a swansong.

Odd looks from odd looking people. I'm not the damned here.

Checked out. It's just a broken system. America, you have a system based on addiction, itself spiritually broken.

Constantly chasing a tail, of cheap whores, of greenbacks,

a corner office in a soul crushing office building.

Here in the epicenter of greed, not a place for children,

.....Intro....