CLEVELAND, OH

If Cleveland was a girl, she would be the one I should of married but instead cheated on with her first cousin, Toledo. It was a great city. So great, I stayed for two days. I was extremely drunk in Cleveland. Enough so that I took very few pictures, but in my mind, I have a photographic journal that tells a tale of unbridled decadence and depravity. On my second night there, I fooled around with a 21 year old from NJ. She ended up getting drunk and puking in the bathroom. Next thing I know, I'm outside fooling around with her aunt.

ROB: I think you should come back with me to my hotel room.
WOMAN: I'd love to, but I'm married.
ROB: I don't even know what that means.
WOMAN: It means I have a husband that I have to go home to.
ROB: I still have no idea what that has to do with coming back to my hotel and having sex with me.
WOMAN: I think you may be insane.
ROB: So I shouldn't bother reminding you that 'what happens in Cleveland stays in Cleveland?'
WOMAN: Probably not.
ROB: Okay then. Um, good talk.

Here is what I shot. The pyramid you see near the end is the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Museum, which was wonderful. I loved this city. Truly loved it. And it's first cousin, Toledo, turned out to be an empty-shell of a city, with no life and very little substance. I drove through and didn't shoot a single shot. Onward to Chicago.