During my younger months, in an effort to stimulate small talk with a young woman I was marginally interested in, bouncing between bodies of a crowded Cahuenga room, I asked what she had been up to.

“Just travelling,” she answered, trying to act twice as Bohemian as her dress code. “Travelling all over.”

Showing polite interest, I pressed for details on what “all over” meant. “San Fransico… Joshua Tree,” she answered, taking a sip of the whiskey-cola she had hustled out of me. And then she stopped talking.

I never got compensated for that Jameson & Coke, nor the minutes of empty inquiring through a pale veil of Pall Mall. But from wher I stand now, its comforting to realize…

MY GLOBETROTTING’S TOTALLY SHIT ON THAT HIPSTER BITCH’S!!!

;)

see ya soon, States.