Can I post in here that the locals call this place "Assholia"

Rednecks, hillbillies, and the favorite past-time is get drunk and beat the wife. On the other side of the fence we have the "Bo Bo's" -- That's French slang for "Bourqeoises Bohemes" -- you know, sprouts, tofu, tie die, knit hats that look like a cow pie, petula oil, Birkenstocks, and they mostly work at the lesbian child-care cooperative.
I don't fit into either camp. I don't fit into the yuppie camp that comes down here on the week-end in the summer, with their Dockers, tasseled loafers, Merlot, Subaru, the twins, and a Golden Retriever . . .

I'm retired, own a home here, out in the boonies. We have dial-up, three radio stations (two Marxist hippie stations and "classic rock" which has been playing the same 50 songs on a tape loop since 1967), pastures, a John Deere, Stihl, at last count three dozen firearms, and a small cannon. 100% Service-Connected disabled veteran (PTSD), Type II diabetic (control w/ diet/exercise), Life Member NRA, Life Member of the local trap shooting club, American Legion, Disabled American Veterans . . .
I camp, hike, ride bicycles (seven of them), own a Ford Ranger XLT 4WD w/ oversize wheels, and a Harley Davidson, my third.
Riding keeps me what passes for "sane" . . .
A dear friend of mine recently made the insightful comment: "The things that make this place attractive are the very same things that will drive you crazy."
I'm intrigued with riding in Nevada -- Hwy 375, Extraterrestrial Hwy, Area 51 and out in the middle of nowhere.
