Las Vegas: The Belated Report: Part 2: The Las Vegas

Las Vegas is one weird son-of-a-bitch of a city. There are more fake breasts within one square mile of Vegas than in the entire city of Los Angeles. L.A. has been derided for being a phony, artificial city, but L.A.'s artificiality is just one layer, and a relatively recent one, of the city's rich history. Vegas is a completely artificial universe plopped down in the middle of a desert, surrounded by mountains. There's a purity in its artificiality that was very attractive to me. The whole reason this city exists is so people can gamble, drink, smoke, attend expensive and thrilling spectacles, and catch fading celebrities and entertainers in intimate settings on their way down the ladder of fame. Where else can you find mini-replicas of Paris, New York City, ancient Egypt, Roman palaces, and medieval castles? Where else will you find Cirque du Soleil, wealthy sleazebags, deluded white trash families dreaming of the jackpot, call girls, old retired couples, and terrible comedians like Rita Rudner and Howie Mandel inside these mini-replicas? I was glad to get the hell out of there after five days, but I really want to go back. We stayed in the New York, New York hotel and casino on the Strip, which is a miniaturized forgery of the NYC skyline. We had a hot tub in our room. This was awesome. I like to sit in hot tubs, but as soon as I sit in one at most hotels, large, hairy men with irritating wives and obnoxious kids somehow always seem to be close behind. With a hot tub of one's own, no hairy men show up unless you want them to. Besides the hot tub, comfortable bed, and great view, there really was no reason to hang out in our hotel room. Everything in Vegas is designed to get you back onto the casino floor as quickly as possible. The room's television had the weakest selection of channels this side of the Motel 6 in North Platte, Nebraska. And I'm convinced they're shooting chemicals into the food. I know we've all heard enough about my bowel movements on this blog, but allow me to give you even more information. My bowel movements, in general, are pretty regular, once-a-day occurrences. In Vegas, however, I needed to take a shit the second I was done eating after EVERY SINGLE MEAL I ate in the confines of the city. As soon as I got back to Texas, everything went back to normal. This is a conspiracy concocted to prevent gamblers from getting the urge mid-gambling session. Vegas wants you to shit right away, so you can gamble comfortably and uninterruptedly. It gave new meaning to their advertising slogan "what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."
My other bones to pick with the city were the horribly dry climate and the people handing out information about the legal prostitutes outside city limits. As soon as I stepped outside, which one doesn't have to do too often on the strip because most of the casinos are connected by walkways, trams, etc., my eyes became severely bloodshot. I had to squirt Visine in my eyes several times a day so I didn't look like a degenerate. As most people know, prostitution is legal in certain parts of Nevada, and on every street corner, there are nearly two dozen people who try to hand you a card with a naked blonde on it and a caption reading something like, "I like to suck dick." These people all have the same technique. They whistle loudly, make some weird snapping noise with the stack of cards, and shove them in your face. This happens so many times that it's hard to refrain from grabbing these people by the throat and shoving the cards up their ass.
On the plus side, Vegas has no open container law and the casinos on the Strip all have the same glasses, so you can take any alcoholic beverage you buy or are given out on the street with you as you walk from place to place. This should happen all over America. Also, smoking is allowed and encouraged in most places. I don't smoke, but I like bad habits and I like to see people smoke when they gamble.
The Strip is fun, but it's also gaudy and overstimulating. Downtown Vegas was just what I was looking for. It's somehow sleazier and classier than the Strip. It's the Vegas you see in the movies. It's also the place where I learned that Jesus is constantly angry. My favorite casino is downtown, Four Queens. This place is exactly what a casino should look like. And they have cheap drinks.
We saw a show while we were there, too. It was called Zumanity, and it showcased the erotic side of Cirque du Soleil. It consisted of semi-nude acrobatics, striptease routines, dirty jokes, and a shirtless midget, and was hosted by a drag queen. I highly recommend it.
A couple of Vegas anecdotes:
The MGM Grand casino has a glass cage with two lions in the center of the casino floor. While we were walking through to rent my tuxedo, we saw the two male lions engage in 15 seconds of lackadaisical anal sex, to the delight of the crowd. I took this as a good omen.
Two of my friends gave me great toasts during the reception. I decided to get them some gag gifts from a magic and joke shop in my hotel/casino. I bought my friend Dan a fart whistle and a fake book entitled "Mr. Johnson's Sex Report" that makes a snapping noise when you open it. I bought my friend Aaron a whoopee cushion and a pack of gum that squirts people in the face. The man ringing up my order gave me a look of utter disgust when I bought the items, even though that is what the store he worked at sold and what he made his living from.
In conclusion, Vegas is great.