Ph34r the Neon

Well, I survived.

And Hell below, there are some strange folk around here. If there is one thing that I've observed in my 14 hours or so in this neon speck of desert, is that sobriety is something of a passing joke. Hoofing around the Las Vegas Strip yesterday, I observed no less than forty mondo-sized margarita glasses, and enough beer to make me feel a little like I was back home again.

Currently (oh, another play by play blog?), I'm sitting inside of a giant black pyramid, looking upon a rather impressive expanse of desert off in the horizon. The task of wrangling up some sort of unhealthy breakfast looms pleasantly in the near future, and I daresay mischief will follow in the distant "later". If that sounds vague, blame it on an itinerary that pretty much consisted of booking the plane tickets, and getting to the airport. :)

Before I head off into the, well, sunrise, here's an abbreviated list of the cliches I've observed thus far:

(x) One poorly costumed Elvis
(x) The big collard-Hawiian shirt retard
(x) Innumerable drunks drinking in public
(x) Drag queens
(x) The, "Just one more pull of the slot machine" gambling addict.
(x) Sleazy ads....everywhere (these are hysterical, by the way).