Loathing in Las Vegas

Venice, CA., has fucking homeless people. Las Vegas, NV., has fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucking homeless people. I’ll be among them one day soon I’m sure. 

They’ll book anything in Las Vegas. I still don’t get Tape Face. He’s a mime with duct tape over his mouth? Menopause the Musical @ Harrah’s. Whatever. I believe I made my point.

I was at the Cosmopolitan the other day. Two men in their 40’s sat on a loveseat behind my chair. For about 15 minutes all they did was bash women in the casino. “It’s getting scary in here. Women used to dress to the nines in this place, and now look how they’re dressed.” 

It was 5:00 in the afternoon, Thursday. If you want to see cocktail dresses maybe not hang out at the casino lounge directly by the front doors, in the middle of the gaming floor, during the time of day affectionately referred to by most of America as happy hour. 

No one “dresses to the nines” at 5:00pm. Back when I was young and adorable 5:00pm is when I’d finally roll out of bed for the day and look for caffeine, debris from the night before stuck in my hair. And oh look, there’s a Starbucks next to the casino lounge. Oh sure. If that doesn’t scream high end surroundings, well my goodness I just don’t know what does. 

The bottom floor, the main floor, is designed for gamblers, hence all the gaming tables and slot machines. Welcome to Las Vegas! The main objective here is gambling. If you don’t gamble, why are you here again? Ah. Right. To go shopping, attend nightclubs, pay $20 per drink and get laid because you definitely can’t do that in your home town. Gotcha. 

Some people are truly horrible at paying attention. And then wonder why they have problems getting anything they want. 

Be that as it may, I do agree that BOTH men and women have gotten lazy with their night time attire. You don’t have to be rich to have style. Have your own style. 

Rich people snub poor people. Poor people snub rich people.

Smart people snub pretty people. Pretty people snub smart people. And while the two aren’t always mutually exclusive, let’s be honest there’s a lot of pretty people whom without security detail would get mugged at a Jamba Juice. 

The haves vs the have nots. I’ve had sex. I’ve had money. Neither one means a damn thing to me anymore. You can always tell the 40 year olds who didn’t have enough sex or money. They act like complete idiots around both. Diamond teeth? FMF threesomes? How boring. 

To be fair nothing excites me anymore. I may as well buy a cane just so I can start shaking it in anger at nothing and no one in particular to show my general disgust towards the human race. 

While putting on lotion I noticed a lump the size of pea under the skin of my left forearm. Later that night I dreamt I had a giant mound growing on my arm, and then it burst open and all these black insects came pouring out. 

I have an interview Tuesday for yet another alcohol industry gig. These ridiculous blogs might finally get interesting. Lies. No. Probably not. I gotta stop saying that. These blogs will never be interesting. 

God smite me now. No fear. Just loathing. Las Vegas.