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Cole Haskins and Bunny Beaumont are crazy in love, which is sometimes good for their careers robbing banks, sometimes not. When even Cole's lightning draw and Bunny's steel-nerved driving doesn't keep them from blowing a big heist in south Texas and have to split to Mexico to hide and heal up, they end up losing money on an armored car robbery that wrecks a town, but luck into an embezzler about to be killed by a bounty hunter. They save him-for a stiff price-but by the time they smuggle him back into the USA on the flying chopper built by two nutso biker/smugglers, things are getting way too loose. They end up in a hostage hole-up, then get chased to a cliff by the law like Thelma and Louise. And through all the hot-wheeling, lead-slingin', and wheeler-dealin' they never miss a chance to crack a joke or smooch each other silly. A richly comic crime novel with a unique twist, it's also a cock-eyed romance. You're going to remember Bunny and Cole.
Weekends are hell. If you do them right. That's the subtext of the columns scrawled by Wiley from various states of semi-consciousness as he slinks out of the woodwork and insinuates himself into the soft underbelly of Southern California consciousness. Wilier than a coyote, badder than Santa, Gonzo'er than Dr. Duke, the Wilester lays waste to everybody in range, not least himself. There are two tributaries to the flow of "The Way of the Weekend Warrior" a normal (more of less) plot of a demented outsider snarfing up the media scene, and the content of the columns he writes and broadcasts as his weapon against normality and status quo. Taken from the syndicated cult column of the nineties, these passages snidely sneer, raucously rant, surrealistically swoop, and otherwise amaze and amuse. If you can get get through a chapter without laughing out loud, you get your money back. Well, not really, but you at least have our sympathy and scorn. Wiley is not for the meek and weak... he is THE WEEKEND WARRIOR. Read him if you dare.
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