Vegas is the saddest place on earth. It’s where sad glittery dreams go to die. Most people are despondent, a handful elated, and several, like myself, at the mercy of an array of emotions.
Elated: Won $50 on my first game of roulette
Despondent: Lost it in the next minute
Elated: Saw how much someone else had lost and was happy that I’m only small fry
Despondent: remembered the $50.
You see what I mean.
Sean p. diddy puffy combes lopez, (or whatever name he’s currently operating under), was in the Bellagio doing his thing for a Bacardi ad. He was surrounded by all his peeps, their arms crossed like built sulky children, and I felt like shouting out – Hey, I wouldn’t try breaking in to see you if you paid me puff. Word.
After saying adios to my $50, I went to Cirque de Soleil’s ‘O’ (the water one) to drown my sorrows in a world of bizarre and death defying stunts. Whoever comes up with this stuff has been buying Linda Maloney’s goods. There were hyperactive near-naked people, depressed clowns, (human) lions, and dolphins that looked like Mr Tumnus.
On the way home, the weirdness continued. I passed a Marilyn Monroe who shouldn’t have been near any air vents, a heap of Elvi and various girl superheroes whose kryptonite was clothing. Heaps of cops too. What do these guys do – make sure the Ten Commandments are broken in as orderly a fashion as possible? I reckon they just sit around in Dunkin’ Doughnuts waiting for a homicide – I’m pretty sure that’s still illegal in Vegas.