Monday, November 28, 2005

Beware of Darkness.

Several months ago, I slowly began to realize that something was lacking in my life. I knew I must move, and move quickly; but to where? Would Bun Boy Country be my salvation?

Nay; 'twas not to be the station of mine own salvation. Further into the mojave, we drove. But Soft, what pillar in yonder desert arises? Could it be, the WORLD'S LARGEST FUCKING OUTDOOR THERMOMETER? WELL, SHIT ON ME!

Yes, the town of Baker, California, did lift my spirits, but wholeness came not to my soul. Then I realized: I needed to see Wonders of the World... like Pyramids.

.. Perhaps Ellis Island, home of the greatest gift bestowed by les Francais, The Statue of Liberty?

But where, dear reader, couldst this unconscious sufferer, wandering aimlessly, bequeath the solemn sorrows of today to others and thusly and truly have my druthers?

Why, Las Vegas, Natch.

And what better company to mend my wounded timbre than mine own brother from Colorado, his good lady Stephanie, and home slice T.J., driving companion, friend, drinker of warm bud light in a small plastic cup from the bathroom of the Tropicana?

...Although I guess we were all guilty of said latter description.

"Dude.. Check this out! Over here!"

The view from the terrace.. and what they were looking at intently, to the right, the ass of the Folies Bergere (tm) chick. A fine ass indeed.

.. And then we went out, experienced debaucherous Vegas goodness, wielding and never yielding unique, tangible mojo, and I forgot the camera.

... But when we came back, however, everyone was ready for bed. Except this partying motherfucker, bitches.

Here I give 'em the ole' "Sleep, eh? I'll show you by photographing the ole' smoke-wink!" Note the ridiculous sized shaving cut on the lower-left-chin-area. Slow down, self.

"How you like the other side o' the face in-action weed stravaganza?" Sadly, there were eight of these pictures total, as everyone else decided it was bed time, and I. COULD. NOT. STOP. ROCKING. THE. FUCK. OUT. For there are, at any given time, millions of children, nation, nay, WORLD-wide, who are unable or simply afraid to engage themselves in any such expressions of rock, and frankly, I dug deep, whipped it out, and threw it on the table. ALL. FOR. THE. CHILDREN.

So I ambled back out into the city..

.. And straight to the Spearmint Rhino.

Because, well, only the cool roll solo to strip clubs...

.. Weep for our lonely souls.


Anonymous melina said...

One never shall passeth Bun Boy on the wayeth to Las Vegas...One must always STOP and go inside of Bun Boy!!!


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