Two Little Letters.

You come into my house, you take away the light and you refuse to acknowledge my existence? It's two little letters. But, whatever, it's all about you. You're the brightest star, aren't you? You're so fuckin' special, aren't you? Pure attention. I can't believe you.

Sucking The Dream Dead. Part 3.

I received a letter in the mail today. No information at all about who it was from. I opened it up and it read: Sometimes I wish I could be you. I respect you for standing up for what you believe in. We're all retarded compared to you. I'm glad you're here. The End.

Sucking The Dream Dead. Part 2.

A long time ago, ancient history for most, I found a lovely lady talking to herself on the side of the woods. She kept saying that her child was lost in the woods. Pointing into the woods, she cried and cried. I told her I would go and rescue her child. She looked at me and said, You have fire that can slay a giant? I said, yes. She replied, good luck, and walked away.

Sucking The Dream Dead.

I spoke to the Devil today. He told me that he was amazed I made it this far. I told him thanks. And then he disappeared into a ball of red flame.

Slacking...

I know, I know. I haven't written a whole lot in the past few months. I blame lack of sleep, work, the stars, Satan and his mystical powers, and mostly, Super Street Fighter 4. ANYWAY, other than rambling on and on like I usually do, how about story time? Yes? No? Well, assuming you're still reading, I will continue on with this short piece I'd like to title 'Maverick, No Goose.' In lamest terms, flying solo.

Sooooo...a new bar opened up downtown in the Fremont East district called 'Insert Coins.' What makes this bar different than the others and special enough to draw even PAPER out of his hibernation?! Well, it's an arcade! Cleverly named a 'barcade' it is one of the greatest places I've been to in Vegas. Hands down! As you may very well know, I happen to be somewhat of a recluse. Other than work, I don't leave my apartment much. Most of my time in my apartment is spent huddled over comics or getting my eyes bloodshot from staring at a computer screen too long. But hearing about this new 'barcade' definitely grabbed my attention. I did work today, and had dinner with my parents, plus my brother is out of town, so it pretty much put me by myself to venture into the great abyss alone. Heading down there, I stopped at a 7-11, grabbed a watermelon laffy taffy and a red bull. Midnight snack of champions. Anyway, I get down there, park, and head on over to Insert Coins. My friend's girlfriend was having her birthday party down on Fremont as well, but with my luck, they bailed on me. And there I was. Waiting in line to get into Insert Coins. By myself. Just waiting. Chillin'. And then, a gentleman slowly walks by, stops, and stands next to me. He's standing a little bit too close for comfort. I'm thinking to myself, this guy is gonna stab me. Or rob me. Which is worse? Getting stabbed? Or robbed of my sorry wallet with no contents? Or maybe - 'Hi! My name is Jeff! Are you waiting for someone?' He asks me, breaking into my thoughts. 'What? Oh, no, I'm just waiting to get inside.' I reply. He sticks his hand out for a handshake. I shake it, no big deal. 'I just got back from Hawaii. I was over there for 3 years. I live just around the corner. I've been living in Vegas for about 48 years now. I can't do all this night life stuff, I just don't understand it. My daughter is running around here somewhere. I'm just waiting for her. I graduated from Bonanza High School a long time ago and it was-' And he was just rambling on and on. I didn't know the guy at all, obviously, other than his name was Jeff and he claimed to have lived in Vegas for 49 years. Or was it 48? Anyway, he's just talking and talking, and the people around me in line are starting to take notice. He's talking quite loud and directly to me. Now, I've had my fair share of drunk people experiences, but this guy was on the creepy, strange side. Smoking and drinking a Bud Light out of a brown paper bag. He also opened up his old, frayed leather jacket and revealed to me a full bottle of wine. He was quite the character. '-yeah they know me here. All over this place. I walk up and down Fremont everyday. I'm retired so I don't do much. My oldest kid is 32, then 26, then 22. All from different mothers. I'm not a whore though....yes, I am. It's OK because-' And on and on. The whole time he's talking, the line is moving and I'm close to getting inside. In his ramblings, he did mention he wasn't going inside, he just wanted to talk to me until I got inside. I stared at the doorman. If eyes could talk, my eyes were saying, 'For the love of all things holy, get this man away from me!!' The doorman looked at me and looked at Jeff. The doorman signaled me over to him and asked, 'What's that guy asking you?' I told the doorman that his name was Jeff and he was waiting for his daughter. Also, that he was a little on the drunk side and was being quite strange. The doorman nodded. 'Do you know that guy?' I asked the doorman. The doorman looked up at Jeff and said, 'Nope.' The doorman signaled to Jeff and asked him, 'Hey are you going inside?' Jeff nodded. 'OK, well the line is back there. Go ahead and get in line and we'll get you inside. Thank you.' And Jeff stumbled away mumbling something about not getting in because of his beer. I nodded at the doorman, just a subtle way of saying thank you. He knew. Sigh of relief!

Finally, I get inside and head straight to the bathroom because that red bull went straight through me. After that, straight to the Super Street Fighter 4 machine! Played a bunch of kids, beat a bunch of kids, got some props, some cheers, met some new people, and racked up a 15 and 2 record. Good night!

Las Vegas is always an adventure no matter where you go in this city...