Vegas is a town that defies words. Go ahead, ask your 8th grade science teacher about the time he went to Vegas and lost $30,000 and his virginity in one night...to the same bookie. Ask your grandmother about the time she married your father in a drunken, chaotic misadventure. Ask Joe Pesci how he got murdered and buried in a corn field. Go ahead.
What'd they tell you? Nothing, that's what. They can't describe that town. Because words just aren't enough some times. And while they sometimes try using words like "hookers," "buffets," "Wayne Newton," and "third mortgage," it never quite captures the true spirit of the town.
Recently I ventured to the city of sin of Vegas (which many will know by the nickname "Morally-Questionable City"), and between meeting Henry Winkler and drinking vodka out of tea-kettles and losing untold amounts of money, I realized that I would never again know true happiness. I realized I would not be able to tell anyone of what happened in that town. And, most importantly, I realized I would never eat buffets like that again. Here are what few pictures I managed to take in my effort to capture the effervescence which is...Vegas.
BJ Craps? UrbanDictionary would define that as a "blumpkin." $1 BJ in their fun pit, as well! Oh Vegas, have you no decency?
The Hoff, spreading joy throughout the world. And magical fairydust.
I am a mature adult.
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