Shot through the heart and you’re to blame

Darling, you give trucks a bad name.

Day eleventy-seven of the Burning Man road trip – part four, return of the kitchen.

We have a great kitchen, we of the Kingdom of Slack. Most of it is sitting outside in a very poorly truck. The one topless bar in Flagstaff, Arizona, has apparently been closed down. This is what the local newspaper headline called out to us in a petrol station some 30 miles and seven hours away. Seven hours of limping a sick truck over some mountains.

There is fun to be squeezed out of Flagstaff. Oh yes. We have already painted half of it red. With leaking transmission fluid. That leaves two-thirds still to be painted.

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