The type of drinks that that are more dessert than booze. The type of drinks those twenty-two year old dot com millionaires guzzle without ever putting on a pound. They make me sick. Yet again, I digress. The buildings were all brightly painted in what looked like crayola colors.
Bells rang in churches on the hills.
The whole place was decked out like fourth of July waiting for the big parade. I was making me sick. As we rolled along Shorty gave me the skinny on what had been going on. It was a story that I had heard over and over in too many forms. The guy had been working the town for about a week running a kind of educational flim-flam.