hanging out on a mesa with the other cowboys at dusk, watching the stars reveal themselves one by one. the dying ashes of the campfire illuminate the rough, world weary faces of my compatriots. they’re largely silent except for the occasional spit on the ground and a tired sigh. not me though! i’m saying shit like “yeah dude look it up. look up united state of pop 2009. it fuckin bangs man.”
years later, long after the lives of the other cowboys reach their natural conclusions, a single lonely skeleton will be found here.