His family lived in a dry barren empty forsaken cowshit cow poke cow pie hills on a nowhere road to fancy Brentwood. Miles and miles and miles of tree-less bush-less dried out baked hill country hot as fuck and it even had a strange name -Morgan Territory Road - like something out of a western movie. Indians or bandits will get you and skin you alive! Or you'll die of exposure and thirst!

Just a big new nice house on one of the hills with no trees around it.

His older brother had a "party" because their parents were out of town. Bunch of guys all guys all teenagers in jeans all dudes not one single girl at the party -one guy would take a rolled joint from a plastic green bucket, light it and pass it and then another until everyone had a lit doobie and no one to pass it to. No I'm good thanks. We got way stoned in that house and listened to a seventies prog rock album -ELP's Tarkus about an ancient futuristic armadillo tank battling flying pterodactyls. Whoa fucknA!