We were invited out to Las Vegas to play records at the POOL Tradeshow. Three days, three nights of beauteous, oxygen-rich meandering accompanied by the mellifluous sounds of ubiquitous slot machines. Notwithstanding a seemingly endless bonus round at the palm springs airport. Details (albeit scattered ones) follow.

Raking it in.

The limit. (the sky)

We fill big shoes.

No Age plays the happiest place on earth.

Big ole trucks.

I suspect this is a front for another operation.

Manda the destroyer with less destructive James.

Rock band, roulette Gods.

Orgy mural on the ceiling.

Matt Goldman has applied for membership in The Sons of Liberty

cha ching.

Goodbye pork-pie hat.

“I threw it all away”

Never not twerking

Menaaaaaaaaaage!

Ahh, back to moondogg!

And beautiful California girls!