<p data-rte-preserve-empty="true" style="white-space:pre-wrap;">No One, No Thing, No place, No Time, No</p><p data-rte-preserve-empty="true" style="white-space:pre-wrap;">by Las Vegas Word Brigade</p>

Amnesia Motel Ep 190

Charlie Newman uses a sapient hand to trade high dollar hangdog green screens for sonic space and alliterative waterboarding.
Charlie the elder makes sweet chat of sinister marketing materials and the medium of ex wives tales, plunking drunkenly down red carpet steps into overgrown avenue alleyways.
A man once known as a beatnik in a zoot suit, Charlie hails from the ever-forming city of Newark, New Jersey. The righteous sin bin of Las Vegas is now home to his dark-eyed living corpse and that of his mutt.
Contained in bitesized morsals are the effluvia that falls from his medulla oblongata on the regular. Smoke some grass, eat a ‘shroom, plug in and become enlightened, you heathen wage slaves.