“I still remember "the mighty Cros" visiting the ranch in his van. That van was a rolling laboratory that made Jack Casady's briefcase look like chicken feed. Forget I said that! Was my mic on?”

“I must think about something else for a while. But then I remember his warn arms and his big strong legs touching mine and how hard and wide his chest was and how hot his kiss was, and I got outside and feed the chickens. They are getting mighty fat.”

“There was a fence and there was this other van- So I go, 'Fence or van? Cause I'm crashing into one of them,' and I said 'Fence,' so I hit the fence and bounced into the van”

“Home at last, and my little ranch house looks mighty plain, but it is home to me and I am glad to see it.”

“I grew up on a working ranch, and there was way too much to do.”“You what? A working ranch? Like…a cowboy?”Cam rolled his eyes. “I guess.”“You’re a cowboy and a fireman?”“Yes, Daniel,” Cam said dryly. “It’s almost as if I am half of the Village People, all rolled into one.”

“I met a man with no forehead and receding eyebrows. He had ketchup crusted on his eyelids. I can't remember what we talked about, I just remember him smelling like chicken feed.”