A review of nudist club-cum-desert resort Buff Valley Sun Club and various aspects of the landscape thereabouts. Names have been changed to protect the guilty.
If androids dream of electric sheep, what does a shapeshifting alien inmate lust after? And what about an embattled staff sergeant? Science fact, fiction, and fuck: intrepid reporter Peter Thompson reluctantly investigates the further sexcapades of Reno, Nevada.
It’s that time again for reflection, when magazines make best of lists way ahead of New Years to assist you in developing a cheat sheet for buying yourself a bunch of records, books or whatever for the holidays when you know in your gut you really you should be buying Uggs or fleece blanket-robes for everyone in your family, toys for homeless kids or sending $30 to Reno’s Occupy Wall Street Movement to keep it afloat. Or you could be like Peter Thompson, puzzling over Kardashian tweets and kicking dope. Merry, merry…
Peter Thompson didn’t get shot today so he is writing a letter to Fanzine expressing his intention to write. Current events, two generations of hookers, and a riff on gambling culture intervene. Not even the Greyhound will get you out of Reno for long.