I can already tell that keeping this thing up-to-date is going to be next to impossible, so I guess we can save most of the details for Two Thousand Compact Discs And Only One Towel, our forthcoming no-holds-barred celebrity tell-all.

As for Sunday, we pulled out all the stops and rocked the Motley within an inch of our goddamned lives. The crowd barely broke a sweat, and many of them appeared to be completely unaware of our presence, even as we were screaming at them to please get out of the way before the flames engulfed us all. But we only managed to break one string, and I personally view our entire two-week stay as an unqualified success.

Now we’re in Colorado, enjoying an unexpected day off and trying not to think about the “Change Oil” light that has been with us since Barstow and has thus far defied the conventional wisdom that said light is somehow related to the volume and quality of the oil currently in our car. By the time I get around to actually posting this, we will probably be in Nebraska. Or maybe Illinois. Who knows. Maybe one of us will have slept by then.

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