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
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Thursday, February 16, 2012
I had a heart attack reading this!
The inevitable and ironic finally happened: Some schmuck had a heart attack at the Heart Attack Grill. Read the news story here.
Yes, the infamous Las Vegas restaurant--no, the term restaurant begs some level of refinement--trough, that serves guest--no, pigs-- who weight more than 350 pounds for free, finally gave someone an actual heart attack.
Not that I'm blaming their 8000 calorie meals for the patron's heart attack, but any place that glorifies obesity should at least make people sign some kind of waiver. See more ironic pictures below:
Ew
I think I just threw up a bit.
Whomp wahhh.
Now a Washington advocacy group is trying to shut the place down. What do you think? Is it worse than a liquor store or a crack dealer?
Yes, the infamous Las Vegas restaurant--no, the term restaurant begs some level of refinement--trough, that serves guest--no, pigs-- who weight more than 350 pounds for free, finally gave someone an actual heart attack.
Not that I'm blaming their 8000 calorie meals for the patron's heart attack, but any place that glorifies obesity should at least make people sign some kind of waiver. See more ironic pictures below:
Now a Washington advocacy group is trying to shut the place down. What do you think? Is it worse than a liquor store or a crack dealer?
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Life Looks Better on Top
Guess what, Las Vegans! We finally won something! We finally topped a list (and it's not a swimsuit contest at Wet Republic).
A list published in CNNMoney of the top 100 zip codes hit hardest by foreclosure listed Vegas as numero uno! In fact, we swept all five tops spots.
Not that anyone should be surprised by this. I like to brag about how bad the economy is here all the time. Other cities brag about their great hospitals or parks or number of doctors per capita, but is the best news since our suicide rate hit the press last year! Winning!
A list published in CNNMoney of the top 100 zip codes hit hardest by foreclosure listed Vegas as numero uno! In fact, we swept all five tops spots.
Not that anyone should be surprised by this. I like to brag about how bad the economy is here all the time. Other cities brag about their great hospitals or parks or number of doctors per capita, but is the best news since our suicide rate hit the press last year! Winning!
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
I like to social climb while I stair climb
Have you heard of DAVID BARTON GYM? Well, DAVID BARTON GYM is about to hit Las Vegas. I've got to type it in all caps, because it's just that sweet!!!! Consider the evidence:
Don't you workout like this?
Everyone else does...
...at DAVID BARTON GYM!
Don't worry, everybody. You too can exercise in a club environment when DAVID BARTON GYM opens it's new Las Vegas location at Tivoli Village. I hope to social climb on the stair climber (while wearing stilettos). After all, what's the point of working out if you can't lounge on a suede beanbag after?
Don't worry, everybody. You too can exercise in a club environment when DAVID BARTON GYM opens it's new Las Vegas location at Tivoli Village. I hope to social climb on the stair climber (while wearing stilettos). After all, what's the point of working out if you can't lounge on a suede beanbag after?
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Wanna buy a huge drink and stumble around somewhere?
Alternate title: There's nothing to do here (or anywhere for that matter).
Las Vegas is a 24 hour city, so many people assume this means 24 hours of constant fun. But think about the last time you visited Vegas; what did you do? I'd venture to guess it had something to do with booze and empty pockets. Now imagine you're stuck here permanently. No, you're not incarcerated after pinching a councilman's tush on NYE(I can tell you that story later), you just happen to live here with neither the plans (nor funds) to get the hell out.
"There's nothing to do here," is a common complaint from Midwestern kids who resort to getting black-out drunk in the cornfield and tipping bovine. This isn't a stereotype; I actually knew people in college who said that this had been their typical weekend growing up. Naturally, I assumed that if I lived somewhere bigger or brighter, I'd never face that boredom brought on by yet another Friday night spent in the same bar or coffee house listening to the same Black Eyed Peas cover band or Klezmer group (what?).
But it's no different here. Aside from some really expensive shows or equally bank account-draining activities such as indoor skydiving, helicoptering over LVB, or going to a concert, I generally face the same icky feeling of deja vu weekend after weekend. Here's where I could link to a bunch of stuff that always makes various local press' lists of things to do for locals, such as the Bellagio Gallery of Fine Art or the Pinball Museum. But I won't, since most people exhausted all those ideas during their first four months of living here. Instead, I've short-listed several insane ideas I've never tried before. Have you?
Really Stupid Shit to Do When You're Bored in Vegas:
1) Get a prostitute, refuse to pay, and run away on foot.
2) Graffiti the side of Encore.
3) Buy a little remote control boat and drive it in the pool at Bellagio. (Someone has to have thought of this one already.)
4) Scale the fence of Steve Wynn's neighborhood, ring his doorbell, and steal his walking stick. (This is only funny if you know Steve Wynn is blind.)
5) Buy front row seats to Holly Madison's Peepshow, wait til the music gets soft and make loud accusations about which parts of her are plastic.
6) Dine and dash at Joel Robuchon.
7) Egg newlyweds taking their pictures in front of the Welcome to Las Vegas sign.
8) Fill The Mix elevator with ping pong balls; push the button for the top floor.
9) Get a penthouse suite at any hotel and throw stuff off the balcony.
10) Go to the Eiffel Tower Restaurant and order everything in French, ask the waiter questions as if it's the real Eiffel Tower, such as "Did you work here when Bridget Bardot filmed that movie?" and "What do you think of President Sarkozy?"
Las Vegas is a 24 hour city, so many people assume this means 24 hours of constant fun. But think about the last time you visited Vegas; what did you do? I'd venture to guess it had something to do with booze and empty pockets. Now imagine you're stuck here permanently. No, you're not incarcerated after pinching a councilman's tush on NYE(I can tell you that story later), you just happen to live here with neither the plans (nor funds) to get the hell out.
"There's nothing to do here," is a common complaint from Midwestern kids who resort to getting black-out drunk in the cornfield and tipping bovine. This isn't a stereotype; I actually knew people in college who said that this had been their typical weekend growing up. Naturally, I assumed that if I lived somewhere bigger or brighter, I'd never face that boredom brought on by yet another Friday night spent in the same bar or coffee house listening to the same Black Eyed Peas cover band or Klezmer group (what?).
But it's no different here. Aside from some really expensive shows or equally bank account-draining activities such as indoor skydiving, helicoptering over LVB, or going to a concert, I generally face the same icky feeling of deja vu weekend after weekend. Here's where I could link to a bunch of stuff that always makes various local press' lists of things to do for locals, such as the Bellagio Gallery of Fine Art or the Pinball Museum. But I won't, since most people exhausted all those ideas during their first four months of living here. Instead, I've short-listed several insane ideas I've never tried before. Have you?
Really Stupid Shit to Do When You're Bored in Vegas:
1) Get a prostitute, refuse to pay, and run away on foot.
2) Graffiti the side of Encore.
3) Buy a little remote control boat and drive it in the pool at Bellagio. (Someone has to have thought of this one already.)
4) Scale the fence of Steve Wynn's neighborhood, ring his doorbell, and steal his walking stick. (This is only funny if you know Steve Wynn is blind.)
5) Buy front row seats to Holly Madison's Peepshow, wait til the music gets soft and make loud accusations about which parts of her are plastic.
6) Dine and dash at Joel Robuchon.
7) Egg newlyweds taking their pictures in front of the Welcome to Las Vegas sign.
8) Fill The Mix elevator with ping pong balls; push the button for the top floor.
9) Get a penthouse suite at any hotel and throw stuff off the balcony.
10) Go to the Eiffel Tower Restaurant and order everything in French, ask the waiter questions as if it's the real Eiffel Tower, such as "Did you work here when Bridget Bardot filmed that movie?" and "What do you think of President Sarkozy?"
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