An Open Letter to Las Vegas

Dear Las Vegas,

This is bullshit. It might be the juice fast talking, but I'm giving you no more than one year more of chances. Then I'm moving somewhere less stupid, or at least somewhere I appear less gullible.

Don't get me wrong. There's one good thing about you: my job and my wonderful coworkers, whose presence with you never ceases to amaze me, since they don't suck and mostly everything else here does.

The first piece of evidence that everyone sucks is the fact that most people cool move soon after they meet you, or at least move before their kids have to go to school in you. Who wouldn't? You don't have any culture. You don't have art museums. You don't have people who went to college. Even your college is shitty. I would know; I got a degree there.

Secondly, the people who stay here lie a lot or like to sue people. I know tons of people who've been sued. Once, this lady said she was going to sue me because Dugi peed on her lawn. This summer, I dated a guy for several months who I then realized had still been up-keeping a profile on a dating site. Then, he was mystified by why I didn't return his phone calls. Just today, I was driving through the Best Buy parking lot and someone honked at me because they thought I had a stop sign. I didn't. They did. Rude.

Thirdly, the fact that I manage to fuel a blog almost exclusively with stupid things you've done is ridiculous. In fact, in the past year, I've written about you killing someone, you letting people run around without pants where people are eating, you actually serving food off naked people, you employing children...and the list goes on. Also, you gave me allergies for the first time in my life. And nasal polyps. And dry skin.

I'm not putting up with this much longer. Give me something nice. Give me something shiny. Unless you redeem yourself, I've moving somewhere nice like Philly or Austin. Don't think I won't.

Sincerely,

Over It