I will disappear for days because I feel like going to Eureka where I decide that, aside from the pretty fuckin’ cool abandoned railroad tracks, the only enjoyable thing to do is hang out at the empty bar, the one that isn’t doused in neon and full of popped collars and short skirts dancing to obnoxious unrecognizable music, followed by a stop at a lonely strip club along the highway, which gives one the skeeves.