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.