 Happy Monday fellow citizens. In case you couldn’t tell from that four word opening sentence of today’s post, I’m positively giddy. Giddy…I’m telling you!
Why am I on such an emotional high, you ask? Well, while the rest of you wring your hands and worry about North Korea threatening a first strike; news that Vlad the Putinator has instructed his subjects to inspect and stock their bomb shelters; and, finally, speculation regarding why it is that Jennifer Aniston hasn’t aged in ten years (she claims it’s her Hollywood lifestyle) – I’ve settled into the latest Southern Living suite in Vegas Baby! And what a whirlwind time I’ve had since arriving here early Sunday. I have to say that my handler, the virginal vegan Brooklynn Hodensack, has truly outdone herself with the prep work this time. The living area of the suite is arrayed with no less than 16 televisions…we’ll have football tonight as well as baseball playoffs, along with the Nepalese giddy up championships from…well, Nepal. There’s one TV devoted to John Wayne movies. Oh, I’ll also monitor the latest usual scandalous news from the Trump and/or Queen of the Unindicted campaigns. The virginal vegan has given up on the idea that I’ll actually attend the debate here on Wednesday night. We’ll be able to view it from every angle and in twelve different languages right here in the Suite. This is heaven for me. I’m just sorry that it won’t go past Thursday check-out. Eh, it’s probably just as well. Wednesday night’s debate will close out my contractual obligation to Southern Living and I can get on with the other projects in my life. There is, after all, a full season of Bigfoot: Naked and Untamed to shoot up in Colorado. Plus, I’ve begun work on a one-act play concept that I hope to stage locally. See? I’m too busy to be working. Last night, as I was watching the PBR San Jose Invitational on television and wondering what kind of trouble I could get myself into, it soon came to me in the form of a local commercial announcing the International Elvis Impersonator Competition at one of the casinos. That was all I needed to know. Soon, I was out the door and down the street without leaving the virginal vegan so much as a note. Haha…let her worry, I told myself. She had left the suite hours before searching for a vegan meal in Vegas Baby! To say that the competition was weird and depraved would be a gross understatement. Let me put it this way, the winner was a guy from Italy named Bunnie (I’m not kidding). He was short, fat, and bald with really thick glasses, but I have to admit that his version of “Love Me” was dead-on to Nicholas Cage’s version of the song that he did in “Wild at Heart.” I know, right? Small wonder that he won! Following the awards presentation at the end of the evening, I invited all of the assorted Elvi back to the suite for a reception courtesy of Southern Living magazine. To say that the virginal vegan was delighted is a gross overstatement. But, she’s a good Southern Living trouper and was soon mixing drinks at the Suite’s wet bar and ordering fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches from room service. The highlight of the evening was one of the entries from Japan who calls himself Elvis-san. By day, he’s a sumo wrestler, but by night, he plies the karaoke bars of Tokyo picking up gigs as an Elvis impersonator. Frankly, his odd musical stylings of E are a little creepy, but when you’re in the presence of a 300-plus pound man who makes a living pummeling opponents while wearing a diamond-studded diaper, it’s a small point barely worth mentioning. As the evening wore on and the crowd increased in the suite, I soon discovered that members of Clinton’s campaign had slid in. I tried to get anyone of them to comment on the latest email dump earlier that day from WikiLeaks, but no one would bite. At some point around 1AM, the virginal vegan disappeared into her bedroom. Okay, no adult supervision, now was the time for the real fun to start, I remembered thinking. I asked Elvis-san to show me a few of his sumo moves. We cleared a space in the middle of the room. By this time, the Clintonites had pretty much departed. I will say that the lesson was short-lived. Elvis-san and I faced off…he charged forward slamming me into a wall…I regained consciousness around 3AM. Everyone was gone by then, along with the booze. Eh, well, the virginal vegan will have time to restock this morning before tonight’s Vegas Baby! adventure. Comments are closed.
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