That's all I got. The van is starting to eat at our (arguably already negligible) social skills. Radjaw craps like a goose, especially after eggs. Why does he keep eating eggs? Darwin can't seem to bounce back from his excesses back in San Francisco. Trent keeps threatening to moon me. Bles is driving hard, blasting Brandy at top volume, explaining the finer points of Rodney "Darkchild" Jerkins' production techniques to P Smoov, who was shaken by a nightmare back in Winnemucca. "That fucking place was haunted", he contends. Meanwhile, I'm in Idaho. I thought I might get to spot one of these "skinheads" I always hear about for once. I don't think this is their kind of place though-there is instead a white bro with dreads; it's been a running joke that such bros keep popping up on this tour. Now they're playing some autotuned reggae with Spanish guitar. Jesus.