Goodbye red mug

Friday night, I was going to go out, even after some black guy yelled, “Fuck you, cunt!” at me because that’s what a reasonable man says when you walk past him on the sidewalk, but then I broke my big red mug I’ve had for years and many travels, took it as an omen and stayed in. I read a little Byron, and watched Phantom Of The Opera. I would have chosen the Phantom of course. 

I wasn’t going to go far, out, I mean. Just to the local bar. Maybe Fremont street. It’s Labor Day weekend which means all the ridiculous Whoo people are here. “Whoooo Vegas!” You’d have to pay me A LOT of money to go to the strip. I mean an embarrassing amount of money. Oh sure I can be bought. An embarrassing amount of money. 

THE NICE GUYS. What a great movie. Great find. That was Matt Bomer? Wow. I always liked Ryan Gosling. He’s brilliant in this movie.

“Let me tell you what two days of detective work looks like, okay? You drive around like an asshole. You’re gonna spend half the time interviewing the fucking Chet’s of the world. You spend the other half trying to translate fuckwit to English. And when it’s over, the only thing that’s changed is that the sun went down twice.”

— Holland March, The Nice Guys 

Hey you crazy kids, guess what? Come, as in “come join me” is still spelled c.o.m.e. regardless how clever and cutesie you think it is when spelled any other way. 

Just once can men type and speak like somewhat educated adults when writing a woman?

10:46pm (a week ago) Friday night. Las Vegas. Sirens! I was actually thinking of seeing Cheap Trick, at Fremont Street. Fremont is just down the street from me, mere blocks, but I can’t do it. I can’t see any more 50 year old rocker chicks from the 80’s with boofy feathered hair. I’ll tell you what else I can’t see, nicely dressed women with men dressed like slobs. What’s wrong with you ladies? Straighten him out! That’s your job! And please, if you see him wearing white shoes with dark socks, for love of god stop him. He should never wear any socks darker than purple with white shoes. I almost tackled a guy last week and ripped his socks off! Almost. The next guy might not be so lucky. Black socks, or any combination with black fabric, should never be worn with anything other than black shoes. Brown socks, brown shoes. White socks, tennis shoes. And any time a guy wears socks with crocks or any kind of sandal, he should remain single and alone until he knows better. I saw a guy today wearing black socks with slipper sandals and I almost tackled him to rip off his socks. — Omg. Maybe I just miss stealing socks? 

9:09pm Wednesday 

I’ve been busy working on the Smith Card Company website. It’s so much work. I am not a web builder. I’m dumb and pretty the way god intended! Aramis is the computer guy but nooooooo I’m doing the website, why? Not my fault if it looks like it was made by a ten year old. 

Vegas would actually be a nice place to live once you acclimate to the summer heat. What makes it a miserable place to live is all the homeless people and littered trash. After moving here July, 2017, I’ve seen two Asian homeless people, surprisingly not including myself, and zero Hispanic homeless. Because those are two ethnic groups of people who take care of their families, for better or worse. Black and white people don’t give a fuck about their family members. Paul is the only white guy I’ve ever seen take care of his drug addict brother. My old landlord has Alzheimers and his family could not give one fuck. They can’t wait until he dies. They let him drive when he shouldn’t. They leave him alone to be a nuisance to society. So what if he kills himself and other people on the road? Meh. Whatever it takes to get their inheritances faster.

Most of the homeless in my neighborhood are black, but on the Vegas strip it’s mostly white people. I don’t know if it’s because they have enough wit about them to know where they money is, or what, but I live by Fremont street/Art District, so obviously I don’t have money. It’s no coincidence the Art District is here. 

Yesterday some skinny, I mean super skinny, black girl was chasing after some guy with her skinny starved toddler bouncing on her hip. She was screaming hysterically after the guy, “This is your son! This is your son! Take care of your son!” When she couldn’t carry the toddler around any more she plopped him down on the 110 degree hot concrete sidewalk. The kid didn’t make a sound. He just sat there. Two of my neighbors, big black guys, came out to assist the girl, “Come on now, he don’t care about you. Let’s take care of this child. Let’s get ya’ll something to eat and get out of this heat.” Both men wanted to help the girl and her kid, but the girl wasn’t interested. “Mind your own damn business! This don’t concern you!” She screamed at the men who wanted to help. One of the nice men started to pick up the child from the hot sidewalk, but the girl smacked the man away from her kid. She picked up the toddler and continued chasing after the guy presumably the child’s father. She left both of the nice men behind staring after her in disbelief. My guess, the supposed father of her child sells drugs. She rather have drugs than help. 

Las Vegas. Barren wasteland.