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“That thing we'd been searching for: nameless, faceless, shapeless as quicksilver -- it never existed. It was a mirage. We were chasing a ghost and we knew it. There was no destination, just the journey; just the moment. It was all about the kick of the ride. You stomp on that damn accelerator and hold on for dear life. All you can ever hope for is one wild, drunken, kick-ass, mother-humper-of-a-ride. And it was.” — Quentin R. Bufogle
That thing we'd been searching for: nameless, faceless, shapeless as quicksilver -- it never existed. It was a mirage. We were chasing a ghost and we knew it. There was no destination, just the journey; just the moment. It was all about the kick of the ride. You stomp on that damn accelerator and hold on for dear life. All you can ever hope for is one wild, drunken, kick-ass, mother-humper-of-a-ride. And it was.