“I don’t have a motorcycle. I never have. I won’t pretend I rode bare-chested with no helmet through the desert with a naked chick on the back. No, I won’t pretend anything. That was Greg, and what’s-his-face that skipped off one night with Magda and the hot redhead, Carey (Kerri, Kari?) They had a little […]
Lazy River
“I don’t have a motorcycle. I never have. I won’t pretend I rode bare-chested with no helmet through the desert with a naked chick on the back. No, I won’t pretend anything. That was Greg, and what’s-his-face that skipped off one night with Magda and the hot redhead, Carey (Kerri, Kari?) They had a little adventure of their own over in Laughlin, Nevada; tasteful nudes in tasteless wastes sorta thing, anyway, no not me. I was busy choking a guy out, shooting a pistol in the desert, and wearing my hamburger t-shirt. Why? I don’t know. Why not?”
Photography by Magdalena Wosinka. Text by Ethan Fowler. Read full story here.
