Zona: Land of the Tan and Wrinkled
I've gone to a couple of swanky restaurants in the last couple of days. I'm not saying word one though until I get the software to download a few photos. The recomendations for those restaurants came from John R**dy, the inventor of the "big cheezit." The guy knows his dining.

This is my last week at the Crystal Meth Suites in Phoenix. After this, I go to live with Dona, my now deceased grandfather's wife. That's one hell of a title for Dona. And yes Big Daddy her name is spelled with one "n," so back off. Anyhow, she lives near the Biltmore area of Phoenix.

It'll be a change from my current digs at the Domestic Dispute Hotel. Where as the Burned-Lipped Suites here wreaks like urine, spilled soda baked in the 110-degree sun and an over-turned 50 gallon ash tray, Dona's place smells of grapefruit blossoms and a classy cocktail hour. Where as at the Shank You Motel a man named Jesse offered me the use of his chubby, skanky, Italian twins, as they finger fucked in a nearby van, at Dona's I expect... well, nothing like that feaky shit.

Life is good.

Phoenix: Desert City on the Grow???

The funny thing about Phoenix is, it's such a strange environment to find 2 million plus people. I don't know how 112-degree heat, a distinct lack of local water resources and dust storms attracted all these people to the Valley of the Sun.

The cool thing about "The Valley,"as it's known locally, are the mountains that surround the urban center. Bare, dry and crumbling the crags and peaks still hold a sense of wild. A scarry, searing, poisonous wild. Even the television, radio and telelphone towers that cluster on North Mountain makes the geogrpahy seem that much more tenacious. Almost, but not quite resistant...

Matthew Big Daddy Dunn, The Trout Runner and Keeper of the Fun Factory Keys and Annual Profit Guide, known in Puerto Rico as Los Papas Grandes arrived in Phoenix Thursday evening. He spent several nights in the Gila River Valley in New Mexico fishing for trout fish. He was a tad ripe at first, it was actually an awful smell. His ruddy, sun burned face was bronzed by a thick layer of desert dust. But the good people staffing my home at the Crystal Meth Suites got him a hot shower, a cold beer and a mostly clean towel in no time. The staff had him feeling like an honest to god human again. I applaud their effort.

We dined Thursday evening at Hooters. I believe the chain is over-priced, the food selection poor and dishes bland. But Hooters holds a certain appeal for a man who has spent the better part of the last three weeks in wilderness areas. Big Daddy insisted we eat there and refused to leave until we were the only customers left in the restaurant. After dinner he was so angry about the refusal of one young lady to join him for a fine hand crafter beer that he bought four Coors Original tall boys and slammed them in about 29 minutes.

Friday night, we ate at Delux, a chic hamburger joint at 32nd Street and Camelback Drive. There were a few cute waitresses dressed in form fitting black outfits. Delux offered a wide selection of beers. The Delux cheese burger includes applewood-smoked bacon, blue cheese, gruyere cheese, baby arugula and carmelized onions on a soft baguette. The beef-steak burger was well worth the $9. The fries and the gazpacho were good. Not great, but certainly good enough. The service on the other hand sucked out loud. There was the typically snotty behaviour by the staff of a chic restaurant. But they also brought all of our food out in one lump sum. They were obviously rushing us out the door. We didn't respond. Even the waitresses constant questions as to whether or not we were done, when we clearly had taken only a few nibbles, didn't enduce us to leave.

All in all, I'd say we had a good time.