Monday, August 17, 2009

This is Not a Saga

Vegas I

June 3, 2004

"Destination Entertainment!"

- Flyer on plane

On a plane.
Scott just let me take a peak at the average money spent in Vegas per stay - 503$.
I have, maybe, 403$.

Oh, listen. A girl once told me "they could feel the evil once they left the plane." She also told me "the devil lives there."
She may be right, but somehow I got out alive.
An overview of Vegas can be summed up by the smell. You'll walk a street and everything is fine, the only smell in the air is ugly heat. But, somehow, underneath it all, you'll smell sewage. Yes, it will hit you like a ton of bricks and bring tears to your eyes and then go away. That is the essence of this waste, this Babylon, this JESUS CHRIST MY DAUGHTER IS NOT GOING TO COLLEGE!!
Sound sad? Yes, maybe. But, the truth of the matter is this smell is real and will hit you nine times between the Flamingo and New York, New York.
Trust me, I'm not big on metaphors or similes, but GODDAMN! That smell will hit you when you least expect it. It's like finding a hole in a condom or like losing hundreds on a game named after an enchanted village.
Vegas is the nightmare that America has always hinted about.
But, all melodrama aside, it didn't kill me the way it would a Charlie Sheen or a guest guitarist with Stone Temple Pilots.
No, Vegas left me with the shits, if anything.
It seems that I'm not ballsy enough to let it kill me.
Yet, I still don't feel right.
I feel like I came close to learning a lesson, but didn't get far enough into the cookie jar to really get a good beating.
Everyone needs a good beating - look at Vietnam.
Or (country's name withheld out of respect for thousands of best intentions).
The point is: when America falls to the hands of vicious evildoers, Vegas will be the climax. No, not Washington D.C. Washington is not the epicenter of America. Vegas is. Star studded and immaculate on wings of cardboard and neon. This is the phony that puts America to shame. This is the town that makes infomercials like "American Idol" look like Broadway. This is it. This is the devil's spawn and should be treated like the lowest common denominator it is: a sickening sore hiding behind stars and stripes.
Vegas is proof that we stole the Holy Grail and filled it up with Thunderbird. Vegas is proof that America is a hypocrisy that feeds off suffering and excretes mirages of gold. Vegas is THE wilderness Jesus tread upon.
Sound heavy handed? Of course not - we've all been there and watched as our children asked us what "three-way dildo action" was after passing a newsstand in Vegas.

With that in mind, let's begin our quest in the wilderness with a beast that can barely spell, much less keep up with his own blog.

No, this is a tell all and the innocent will pay - BIG TIME!
Currently. A stewardess' ass is in my face as she explains, in jumbled English, the need for us all to stow something somewhere.
Me, I'm not big on stowing, but I take heed to her words.
It's an ugly situation - flying.
There's nothing but a wing and a prayer, and sometimes that prayer goes like this:

Jesus, Lord!

But, these are the good people at (name withheld).
No, the poor are like lambs unto God, and God wouldn't let the poor suffer....
But, that's childish. The poor are evil and every good Republican knows this.
What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas - especially the poor.
Scott tells me that Vegas is teaming with the poor; they beat each other ugly, just to get a spot next to you to pick your pocket.
Lucky for me, I have embroidered chastity belts on every pocket I have. But, alas, this has nothing to do with the poor.
No, I don't trust myself with my own money.
Yes, the Wheel of Fortune will always tell you blatantly "YOU WILL ALWAYS LOSE."
But, that's all hearsay. No, the good will prevail.
Because, we are good Christians. We believe that George W. Bush will cleanse our souls of evil knowledge...of knowledge.
That's blasphemy, really. And I apologize. It only takes two minutes of W's prerecorded "for when the bastard croaks" History channel minute about Reagan, to know that this is a man of goodwill.
There's no reason to belittle a president when there's an economy that affords a lunatic, like myself, to spend hundreds on dollar drinks at the Barbary Coast.

Why do the "disaster" victims in the safety videos on the plane look so calm?
I'm sure it's been said - but GODDAMN!
Also, does anyone need to be reminded that you can't smoke on an airplane?
The engines are now boiling.
The throttle will soon - there it goes.
We begin moving.
The piston will soon rocket into the sky.
There's no stopping this beast.
The stewardess just abolished my CD player.
"Excuse me, but I need you to hear the unsteady thunder of this metal dildo rocket, clunking, into the air."

And then we crashed.
We made it, maybe, 300 feet into the air and then we crashed.
In Seattle.
And we all woke up in Vegas.

You get it yet?
Yes, I'm writing a shitty Twilight Zone episode where I symbolize Hell as Las Vegas.
Pretty clever, huh?


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