One Woz, two trucks, three Atkinsons, a host of guns, ammunition and fireworks and a small army of beer bottles. And a man who called himself God and preached to anyone who would listen of moose, mugrunchers and titmice.
I found myself among the ranks of this Desert Expeditionary Force a scant 48 hours after my college graduation. This is my report. No further comment.
For further documentation, please visit Woz here.