Hi, everyone! It’s Colleen, a.k.a. the communicatrix, from blogging.la! You know—a REAL metroblog from a REAL city!*

Well, I’m out here in sunny Las Vegas…finally. I mean, it took for-fucking-ever to get here. I don’t know how you guys do it, living so far away from a real city. That drive must get really old, huh?

Anyway, sunny doesn’t begin to describe it. “Hot as motherfucking Hades the night before the bake sale” comes a little bit closer. It’s a good thing you guys built all those casino places with the cold air. Only the air-conditioners must make a lot of noise because it’s very loud in all the lobbies, plus all of those lights are kind of distracting. And there are no windows. What’s up with that? I’m like, “is it eight AM or eight PM?”

Speaking of air-conditioned places did you know there are lots of hotels in Las Vegas? And that all of them have air-conditioning? Including one that looks just like ancient Egypt and one that looks just like ancient Rome and one that looks just like ancient Barbary. I like that one made out of Legos that looks like the Medieval Times (uh-oh—now I’m getting hungry!).

We’re not staying in that one, though. We’re kitty-corner from it, in a hotel named after the legs of a famous Hollywood actress (like me!) I love boning up on history! (Ha ha—I said “boning”!) It is very luxurious and glamorous, like the ancient Riviera must have been. (Note: I have not seen any French-speaking people here, unless you count those Canadians who cut in front of us at the sports book—hey, I thought our neighbors to the north were all friendly. Maybe they are all staying at that hotel that looks just like ancient France.)

So anyway I came out to Las Vegas to shoot some time-lapse photography with my boyfriend, a.k.a. The Boyfriend. Well, that’s the made-up reason, anyway. The real reason is we really like to go out for breakfast in Los Angeles (where we’re from) and you guys have this place that makes these amazing fucking omelets. I mean, if I lived here, I’d just get an apartment across from the strip mall that houses that restaurant so I could eat those amazing fucking omelets every day without even having to get in my car because there ought to be some pluses to living in this shithole, right?

Here’s how you get there from “the Strip” (that’s a nickname for this big street called “Las Vegas Boulevard” which runs through the middle of town):

Okay, that’s about it. I’d write more about your “city” but there’s really not much to write about, is there? I mean blah blah POKER blah blah STRIPPERS blah blah HOT AS MOTHERFUCKING HADES. You guys should really check out L.A. and stuff. It’s much cooler there plus we know how to blog.

xxx
c

*b.la (that’s “blogging.la“, only we say “b.la” because we are really cool, not geeky like other people who spend a lot of time on the internet)

TOPICS: communicatrix, Las Vegas.

This entry was posted by the communicatrix on Wednesday, June 29th, 2005 at and is filed under The Silly Ones. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.