Nevada Shoothouse

I anticipated rattlesnakes but saw none – or at least nobody said anything if they did.
We didn’t run the shoothouse, it was dark and a bit scary inside – like an old abduction van, and held together by a construction technique I had not seen before: wire wrapping and big staples. After a quick look I stepped back into the sunlight. They do things different in the Wild West.

About NotClauswitz

The semi-sprawling adventures of a culturally hegemonic former flat-lander and anti-idiotarian individualist, fleeing the toxic cultural smug emitted by self-satisfied lotus-eating low-land Tesla-driving floppy-hat wearing lizadroid-Leftbat Califorganic eco-tofuistas ~