Bo is still tripping on his road trip from NYC to Vegas and he's about to pick up 2 backpackers. Here's what he's got to say...
"Some say there are only two states worth being in: Missouri and drunk.
Unfortunately, I was only in Missouri, on Route 70 and with no whiskey.
Bob Dylan, and Mick Jagger and Route 66, had abandoned me, and I was now rockin’ across the USA with John Cougar Mellencamp who’d been hitchhiking inside the
commercial-fueled radio with a laidback Jimmy B who was buffet-ing in
Margaritaville. After too many hours of commercial captivity,
I was convinced a colonel was the king of fried chicken, and Elvis Presley was
running Burger King from inside Area 51.
I’d been cruising all night, occasionally watching reruns of I Dream of
Gilligan’s Navy, filmed in kaleidoscopic Tripnicolor and screened on the inside
of my eyelids. Evil forces would occasionally propel flaming white posts from
the sides of the road, straight at the front of the Kombi, like heat-seeking
missiles from a trippy Wizard of Uzbekistan movie."