Vegas!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 I have absofuckinglutely no fucking idea how to communicate what tonight has been like. No idea at all. I've ingested nothing more than a few shots of Jameson, but the experiences of tonight are absolutely beyond description.

I was eating steak and lobster at Planet Hollywood, and this incredibly hot chick who looked exactly like Trinity from The Matrix, came over and introduced herself to me and bought me a drink. We got talking, and she turns out to be the sister of the Director of Security for Fontaineblue--a $4 Billion Casino just opened on the Vegas strip. She got me drunk out of my mind and told me she was taking me to Area 51, and started to massage me in public right in front of god and everybody. I said fine, and she half dragged me to the Valet who brought her car around, which turned out to be the fanciest Cadillac SUV I've ever seen in my life, then at my request, blasted ZZ Top's Sharp Dressed Man while she played chicken with a bunch of cars on the strip. It's Friday night, so there's a lot of traffic, and needless to say, I put a lot of mileage on her OhShithandles.

We went into an aircraft hanger called Area 15--not Area 51, but it was clearly an aircraft hanger that had been converted into its own little world of the most--seriously, grab your balls and squeeze while I say this, because I cannot convey just how intense the sensations were. It was the single most radical sensory overload I've ever experienced in my life that was not chemically induced. Everywhere I went there were strobe lights, black lights with pastel painted walls, and adrenaline-charged activities like zip lines and all manner of neurotic stimuli. Words cannot convey just what a fucking stroke and heart attack this place was. I also had to pull her back from beating the shit out of a zipline mechanic for some reason. No, I'm NOT kidding. A Zipline mechanic almost get his skull caved in, and I had to prevent it. I don't know why and I can't explain, so just go with it.

She then told me she wants to go line dancing tomorrow. I don't even know what the fuck that means and I told her that, and she asked me to look up the Mustache Song from Million Ways to Die, and just practice that until she sends a limo to pick me up tomorrow around 8pm.

My nervous system is honestly so neurotically overwhelmed right now, I'm still trying to process my first fucking hour with her and all it means. If I was younger, I'd have tried to fuck her brains out, but I'm old enough to know that kind of stupid shit has consequences that avoiding will keep me a millionaire.

There's a very good chance I'm going to turn off my phone and ignore it altogether tomorrow.

She is absolutely stunningly beautiful--looks just like Trinity from The Matrix, but a little bit shorter. Honestly, this video is what my entire fucking night was like...

14 seconds in...

I feel like every second I spent with her tonight was like what it would feel like to be an exploding meth lab being raided by a SWAT team massacring turpentine-huffing crackwhores feeding gunpowder to a bunch of pitbulls assraping eachother.

This must be what it feels like to be a meth addict. I'll never know, because I'd never be dumb enough to try that shit, but this must be what if feels like.

Honestly, all I want right now is a cozy night at home, a nice cup of decaf, and a solid 8 hours of sleep.

Las Vegas is an amazing place--which is usually a recommendation, isn't it? Not always. Sometimes it's entirely TOO amazing, and one has to back the fuck off and vanish into a cozy bowl of soup and a teddy bear, and leave the phone off.

I can't fucking imagine how meth addicts in Vegas even survive. Living here is probably several times the risk to one's nervous system sober that any drug could put it to in the first place.

I was going to post a bunch of youtube links to videos of the wild night I just endured, but I'm going to just leave it at the ZZ Top drive down the Vegas strip and leave it at that. Trust me, your nervous system is a lot safer without all of tonight's experiences inside it. I'm not saying any of it was bad, but holy shit. I feel like I might need to drink about a hundred cans of Redbull just to calm down. lol

Joking of course. Going to relax with some faggoty chamomile tea instead--and I don't give a shit. Call me a fag if you like, but the reality of The Matrix is not the same as the movie The Matrix. It's a lot more exhausting, and you don't just get to leave the heart attack at the theater--it follows you home. lol