There's not another desert quite like that of "Phoenix," Arizona. I put Phoenix in quotations, and rightfully so, because anyone who's been there knows that if you're from Glendale, you're not from Phoenix, and if you're from Scottsdale, you're not from Phoenix, and if you go to school in Tempe, then you don't live in Phoenix. But, for all intensive purposes, no one cares. This sprawling so called city-desert is pure happiness for me, regardless of if my feet are in Scottsdale, Tempe, or Phoenix. Especially in the month of March with its baseball filled sun shining days, bearable hotel pool attendance, and breezy warm nights, it's a little piece of heaven. Oh and the hot dogs, everyone loves a ballpark hot dog, and there's literally 15 different official baseball dogs in this city at one period in time. I mean this dude Tom Lohr traveled the country on the search for the greatest ballpark dog, and all he would have had to do is stay in Phoenix for a couple weeks and he could have knocked out 15 dogs in 15 days. But I am jealous, son of a bitch went to every stadium in baseball.
In any case, I love this trip, and I thank my lucky stars that my wife loves that I love this trip. This year it was especially special because it fell on my best man's birthday. The crew and I dreamed up a gun filled morning in the middle of nowhere, highlighted by a moment in which the hero (Ron Moon) exploded the birthday cake with a 12 gauge shotgun from point blank range. If that's not about a bunch of dumbasses from Los Angeles with a gun in their hands, then I don't know what is. The footage was amazing, you should scroll through my instagram (@misterleight) and find the video, because its worth a good chuckle.
Check out the photos below for a little journey into what the weekend looked like.
Kerri Wilkinson, Patrick, and Nick with a little engine trouble.
Don't know bikes, but I think this ones pretty damn cool.
Bike game strong.
We are literally in the middle of nowhere, the road to get here was called Dead Cow Road. Fuckin dead cow road, haha. Take that vegetarians, ARIZONA FOR LIFE!!!
I never shot the Elmer Fudd gun, which I really regret.
Kerri made a Moon sign for us to shoot at in honor of Ron's birthday.
The cake that we exploded, which I wish we could have eaten too. Red Velvet all day!
Somewhere the one person who visits this blog from Kansas has just decided they are never coming to this website again.
Love the middle finger Cacti.
Angels v. Dodgers game was over 100 degrees, too hot this time, just too hot.
Sadly, Giants have the best stadium there. They just do everything better than us.
The usual suspects.
Shooting guns in my Japan only Birks means that if that one dude from Kansas continued scrolling, he just killed himself after seeing this photo.
I rep the Lakers jersey the entire time out there because I can't be looking like every other Dodgers fan out there, this gets the point across.
Remember those breezy warm nights I told you about? Can you feel it? If this photo could scroll down a little further all you would see is a perfectly lit poolside bar with me sipping a pina colada at it. Take me back!