Extended-stay hotels always carry a creepy feeling: like transitory cages for the middle-aged with the stale stink of lonely drinking, deviant pornography, or unrealized delusions of grandeur hanging in the air. Probably creepier too are the images of business people Prozac-ed out, psyched about their meeting the next day that greet you on cardboard placards. Eeriness abounds: there's weird open spaces, stained furniture, way too many towels.
Pictures were taken in a highway hotel near you. The food was bad, the beer came in 22's. I had Mylo's "Drop the Pressure", Simian Mobile Disco's "Hustler" and the NCAA tournament keep me company.
Extended-stay hotels always carry a creepy feeling: like transitory cages for the middle-aged with the stale stink of lonely drinking, deviant pornography, or unrealized delusions of grandeur hanging in the air. Probably creepier too are the images of business people Prozac-ed out, psyched about their meeting the next day that greet you on cardboard placards. Eeriness abounds: there's weird open spaces, stained furniture, way too many towels.
Pictures were taken in a highway hotel near you. The food was bad, the beer came in 22's. I had Mylo's "Drop the Pressure", Simian Mobile Disco's "Hustler" and the NCAA tournament keep me company.
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