[Ranxerox]

For the life of me, I can't figure out what is so appealing about sleeping on railroad tracks. Am I missing the boat here? Is there some magical portal to the land of nod that lies between the rails? I'm sorry, but cold steel, creosote-soaked wood, and rocks ain't my idea of a comfortable rack.


I can just picture this scene in my head:

Mexican: Hombres, I'm dead tired. Think I'll head down to the tracks and catch a few "Z's".

Hombres: Adios, Juan! We'll have the engineer wake you when he comes by.

[dead]

I guess some other sleepy drunks already grabbed the bed of nails and the couch of broken glass.