A matter of great concern...

It has come to the attention of the parent holding company of The Toilet Papers that a person in our employ, a Mister Silky (apparently an alias) has advocated the mangling and abuse of a large crowd of prepubescent children.  It is with great concern that we address this troubling situation.

The Board of Directors of Cheatum & Fukem does not advocate this kind of reckless child abuse in a public place.  We find it inappropriate and reprehensible that a person in our employ would address such despicable actions in such a truthful matter.

Mister Silky has been an associate of this company for the last thirty seven years, winning twenty six employee of the month awards, ninety two employee of the week awards, and four “ didn’t do it” awards.  He has been a consistent earner for this company, using his incredible business acumen to convince client after client to spend money on frivolous contracts with huge markups.  He has truly been an asset to Cheatum & Fukem.

In an effort to exonerate Cheatum & Fukem from any liability in his horrifying yet honest comments, we will now slander him to the very core of his existence.

Mister Silky was born in a barn in the back woods of Alabama.  His mother was a twelve year old ex prostitute named Thelma, who didn’t realize she was pregnant and panicked at the sight of the child, quickly discarding it in the woods with the umbilical cord still attached.  He was soon discovered by a pack of wild badgers, who feasted on the placenta and umbilical cord and became so gorged with the entrails that they had no hunger left for the child.  They adopted him into their pack, where he nursed at the rabid teat of a mother badger, learning how to survive in the wild.

At the age of five, the mother badger became concerned with Silky’s demeanor.  He had risen above the basic pack mentality of domination and started teasing the other badgers in a hurtful manner.  Fed up with his name calling and reliance on “I know you are but what am I,” the mother badger grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and deposited him on the doorstep of local farmer Jeb Thunderbrush.  Upon hearing the rattling at his door, Jeb opened it to see the mother badger fleeing across his lawn.  He quickly deposited four rounds of buck into her hide.

Silky was devastated.  The only mother he ever knew had died right before him.  He was taken into the Thunderbrush family but made living difficult for the simple folk, nosing through the garbage, urinating in the oven, and gnawing on the children in their sleep.  Soon, Jeb became as frustrated as the dead mother badger and decided to drop Silky off at a military preschool academy in northern Texas.

Not much is known about Silky’s time in the military academy.  Records show he arrived at the age of five and by eleven was on the front lines in Korea.  He returned to the state in the late fifties with three Korean wives in tow.  They weren’t allowed through customs and returned home.

Silky used the GI bill to get himself a college education from Emmanuel College, a women’s school in Boston, where he majored in business and minored in straight to cable soft porn story telling.  Upon graduation, he moved to California and started his own company, Silky’s Softcore Emporium, a storefront selling softcore and hardcore pornography, while filming various underground sex videos in the back.  The company became so successful that it was bought up by Cheatum & Fukem, where Mister Silky rose to the level of VP of Marketing and Sales.

It is with great regret that we, the Board of Cheatum & Fukem, dismiss Mister Silky amidst these horrifying allegations.  

How Many 5-Year Olds Can Silky Take In A Fight...

24





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Walt This Way

I have been transported to another land, my fellow interwebbers. A
place where mice are the size of people, where hot dogs cost five
smackers, where the mass transit sucks, and the evil empire truly
rules the land.

No, it's not New York.

It's Disney World! The land where marketing and merchandising combine
into one gigantic clusterfuck spread across thousands of acres of
humid Floridian fauna. Nowhere in the country will you see so many
fat Americans gathered in one place, eating food that liberal
documentaries should be filmed about while trying to squeeze their
bulbous asses into amusement park rides that were interesting when
animatronics actually entertained. I mean really? It's a Small
World? Pirates of the Carribean? Peter fuckin' Pan? Does anybody
still give a crap about these stories? Does an animatronic alligator
opening and closing its mouth really classify as entertainment anymore?

Yeah, I'm old, and maybe I'm not the crowd that this drivel is
directed to, but I don't know too many kids who know about the
androgenous flying freak who steals a group of children and almost
gets them killed by pirates, while being chaperoned by a fairy.
Disney would never make this crap into a movie today: no one would let
them with all the violence and adult themes. And how the fuck is my
kid supposed to see it if Disney only allows the DVD to be sold for
short periods at a time? Who deliberately keeps their products AWAY
from the public? Arrogant pondsucking greedheads, that's who.

What did Disney ever really achieve to deserve such prime real estate
and an ever expanding chunk of Americana? Mickey Mouse? Donald
Duck? Cartoons? There are children running around this park, begging
their parents for mouse ears, pins (the latest piece of marketing
genius: buy pins and trade! How 1850!), or Cinderella dresses so they
can run around Florida in 90 degree heat wearing teflon head to toe.

The accomodations! Bringing your child? No problem. Need a crib?
How's about a pack and play instead. Have a toddler? Need a toddler
bed? How about a pack and play instead? A multibillion dollar
company, who's focus is children, can't be bothered with proper
orthapedic sleeping arrangements for their lemmings? Why use a
mattress when foamed cardboard will do?

Screw Walt Disney and his ancient boring rides. I can't even find a
roller coaster in this fucking place that does a loop. It ain't the
fifties anymore. Talking mice and singing puppets don't count for
entertainment in the 21st century.

What happens when you lie to the Sundance Channel

Well, I didn't really lie, but some of the questions are phrased in such a way that I didn't exactly answer them as truthfully as I could have. When the choices are "I like air" or "Fuck baby seals, they're yummy and I'm cold" you end up scoring slightly higher than perhaps you're living.

Whatever, such is the nature of multiple choice - and only two choices at that.

The Straight Dope, Straight From the Thinkbone of Silky

A total fucking wasteland. Las Vegas is a town built on nothing, representing only the basest of human interactions, lacking even the modicum of soul one would attribute to the common housefly.

I'm not prepared to offer a quick announcement of a found silver lining here in the beginning of my second paragraph. I stand by my grim assessment, and shall let it rest unmitigated by any snarky, neo-gonzo intimation that we and we alone were armed with the tools to save truth, beauty and meaning from Las Vegas' gaping maw. There will be no saving Sin City from itself, nor a need to save ourselves from Sin City. The place is too ravaged by its ever shifting caprices - that it may continue to attract unending waves of the indolent and the pie-eyed and the desperate- to ever leave a mark deeper than a headache on the likes of Bumpy Squires and The Shadow.

Come here looking for nothing, and you won't be disappointed.

The bats? Well, the bats are another story.

Vegas: Afternoon to Evening

Saturday was the big wedding day. Nuptials were at 11 AM at one of the Elvis chapels, where Elvis would drive the happy couple down the aisle in a pink Cadillac, sing a few songs, and basically move and talk about with Elvis merriment.

We needed to return the Jeep to the rental place, which was conveniently located across from the Bellagio, where the Shadow and I were planning to go. Silky dropped us off, hopped in a car with his cousin, and drove off to the wedding. We went in search of the infamous Bellagio weekend brunch.

We stumbled around the casino a bit, forgetful of where the brunch was actually served, until we finally found it and the twenty minute wait outside. The Shadow was there with purpose, however, and would not abandon his gut. And so we waited...

The brunch was as delicious and incapacitating as it had six months earlier on our last trip. Breakfast consisted of eggs, french toast, leg of lamb, roast duck, chocolate éclairs, and a shitload of coffee. We forgot to tip our waitress, a gross oversight we instantly regretted eight hours later, and hit the sidewalk.

The next few hours were spent roaming the various casinos leading up to the recently added Wynn. Caeser's is typically huge, with sections looking like the sets of the movie 300. Except the malls, which look like every other typical high end mall you would fund anywhere in the
US.

And this is really my big beef with Las Vegas: the city is one large strip mall, filled with Tiffany's, Louis Vitton, and every other typically expensive and unnecessary store you can think of. The effort to separate you from your wallet is astounding, from the never ending malls and ornate, often intimidating architecture, to the four dollar bottles of water and expensive cab rides, ten dollar Corona's and twenty-five dollar blackjack tables. To experience Vegas in the name of debauchery requires the kind of money that most of us can't afford to throw away over a weekend. So how the hell are all these people doing it?

We met up with Silky in the room back at Disney Vegas, where parents and their children seemed to be all over the place. I beg you, please, if you have children, don't bring them to Vegas. Get a weekend sitter and go by yourself. And don't do it for me, do it for the kids, because there is no reason for a child to spend a better part of their weekend exposed to the profane living one's going to see on a casino floor. And there isn't one thing for a kid to do in Las Vegas. Not one. There's no parks or playgrounds or jungle gyms. I didn't even see a toy store in the midst of all the mercantilism. Leave them home.

We hung around the room a bit, getting ready to go out. Silky's cousin Diane came up to the room, a dangerous undertaking on her part, given the smell and condition of the facilities. From our window we could see New York New York and the roller coaster that runs around it. It was decided that before anything could be done, we had to ride the coaster.

The line to ride the coaster was formidable, like all lines in Vegas, but moved at a decent clip. It wasn't until we were pretty close to the coaster that the Fear really began to strike The Shadow. He became even more fidgety than usual and started to sweat a bit. We tried to talk him down when we realized Diane was a little nervous, too. Silky and I put on the brave face until we actually got on the coaster and did the long climb to the first drop. Then we screamed like little girls.

We grabbed a cab and headed to a local bar called the Double Down.

There is a Double Down in almost every town in America. You just have to go find it. Its usually a run down place with cheap beers and a beatup stage for a band in the corner. The walls are covered with stickers from previous acts, lending a bit of worthless history to the proceedings. Random tables and chairs sit a fair distance from the stage with two billiards tables in between that lean slightly to one side. It was the perfect place to start an evening.

We started with four dollar Sierra Nevadas and Stella Artois, continuing our theme of avoiding hard alcohol in hopes of staying strong for the whole weekend and not derailing the train. We joked and drank until the bride and groom arrived, which forced the action to the pool tables.

I'd like to report that there was a fair display of recreational skill at the tables, but no dice. Ernesto, the groom, possessed good skill, but was surrounded by lunks. The Shadow brought little finesse, while Silky and I traded bad shots. What Diane lacked in skill, she tried to make up for in luck and morale. None of it was effective, each game more painful to watch than the previous. Fun was had as we wallowed, neigh, languished in our absurdity. Soon, the band started loading gear to the stage and the pool tables were covered. It was our cue to head to our next destination: Champagne's.

A Shadowy man mumbling CCR.

From the moment we walked in the door to Champagne's, we knew we found our spot. The bar was red, red from floor to ceiling, with red lights, red velvet-like wallpaper, filthy red carpet, and all kinds of red trimmings. The room was warm and not overly crowded with an L shaped bar, the long end servicing a half dozen booths, the short a karaoke stage. We quickly split into two groups, the drinkers and the singing drinkers.

This was definitely a local bar. All of the performers knew each others names and didn't even need to refer to the songbook in order to pick. The songbook itself seemed about ten years old, which was ok, but was a bit light on choices. Alison and Silky kicked things off with a spoken word interpretive of "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds," followed by my rendition of "I've Got You Under My Skin" and The Shadow mumbling "Fortunate Son"

We hadn't really won the locals over yet until Silky performed a rousing, spirited rendition of "Stand By Your Man," which I followed with "You Make Me Feel So Young." Call it the booze, but suddenly strangers were cheering, asking us to help on their songs. I got pulled up to sing the Fred Schneider part on "Love Shack," an old classic with boisterous, over the top singing. Silky shocked and awed the crowd with a Tom Waits approach to "All of Me," then reteamed with Alison for a version of "The One That I Want" of Grease fame. Silky and I did a little backup on the Lion song for someone, then dropped an all male review of "Suspicious Minds," complete with Elvis ridiculousness.

Alison and Silky belt out the hits.

At this point it was around 2 AM. The karaoke guy started packing his shit and we all decided to head in. We dropped Diane off at the Tropicana where she parked her car and we headed back to Queer Castle.

All instincts pointed to food which sent us directly to the food court. One would expect that the food court in a Las Vegas casino would be open twenty four hours a day. Apparently not. The only establishment open was McDonalds, and they were closing for fifteen to twenty minutes for some reason. Pissed, but taking it as a sign, we proceeded upstairs to the buffet, whose line was at least an hour. We returned to McDonalds to find them not only still closed, but with a huge line. We sucked it up and waited, ate our food, and went to bed.

Vegas: The Morning

9AM Vegas time: After nine hours of sleep, we're awoken by the sound of the alarm clock, our plan to stick somewhat to New York time already blown to Hell by sleeping till noon EST. The previous evening was an audition for a Vegas zombie movie: three overly tired morons walking from the Excalibur (or Disney Vegas) to Harrah's, only to wind up in Margaritaville. It was a mellow start to a long weekend.

We arrived at the airport yesterday and immediately went on the hunt for The Shadow. The Shadow doesn't fly Southwest with the rest of us mortals, even if its conveniently located fifteen minutes from his house. Instead he hops the LIRR, goes to JFK and hops on JetBlue.

He was supposed to arrive an hour before we arrive but on this day, JetBlue fucked him. An hour late, AND he checked his bags. We finally get out of the airport and are picked up to get our rental car, a beatup white Jeep Wrangler with rag grey top and trailer sized tires.

We got in the car and headed to the Excalibur to check in. The hotel lacked the kitsch and cheese we had hoped and instead looked like Cinderella's castle with a bunch of kids running around. Not the environment we had expected for a full on twisted weekend but we would have to make do.

Got settled, got back in the jeep and ate. Hit the road and headed out to the Red Rocks Park for a 13 mile driven loop with Silky's cousin Diane and Dominic. The Rocks were pretty cool. Off season so it wasn't very crowded and a little cool out. The whole park was situated in a
valley with ridges of multicolored rocks on every side as we drove through sipping beers.

At night we met up with some people from the wedding (the whole reason we're here) at Margaritaville. My friend Jon from college who lives out here met up with us for a few beers. After a long day we went back to the room and passed out.

Vegas: Do it... Do it.... Part I

10:00AM: We leave the airport bar after a couple of lemonade and Ketel One's and amble off to the gate. Our fastidious check in 24 hours previous pays off: the group A line is notably small and moving at a decent clip. We're out of the bar and on the plane in five minutes. A good start.

The morning went smooth enough. I got out of the house later than expected after trying to squeeze a few extra moments with Morgan. A quick stop at Dunkin' Donuts to gas up and I was headed south to Babylon.

Deer Park Ave was mobbed with Muslims who were apparently celebrating the end of Ramadan, or however you spell it. Hundreds upon hundreds spilled out to the street from a small building and dirt parking lot. A shoddy facility but the enthusiasm was obvious. A few miles earlier, the local McChurch, with parking for five thousand and Laser Jesus shows on weekends sat, churning in the dough.

Picked up Silky to the sounds of barking dogs and my chatty niece. In five minutes Madeleine taught me where the food stays (the fridge), where the ice cream stays (the freezer), and that Daddy was going to work (Vegas for three nights). Close enough.

Five hour flight. 5:15 if you're counting. I've been handed a cardboard box with a map of the US on the front and cookies, trail mix, and cheese and crackers in the middle. Delish. Who says the airlines don't care?

Next stop: Las Vegas, NV. We meet The Shadow at the airport, procure a jeep, and go to the firing range. And so it begins...

But first, a four hour nap.

The Final Countdown... St. Louis Slingin'... And Then There Were Three... Automotives, Bouncing Nards and the Fear... Beef Sticks and Gout

The following is an actual conversation:
 
1:18:04 PM Klagon: yoyoyoyoyoyoyoyo
1:18:21 PM Hambone: yo yo yo yoyoyo yo yo yo yoyoyo
1:18:29 PM Klagon: yeyeyeyeyeyeyeyeyea
1:18:32 PM Klagon: one day
1:18:38 PM Klagon: til we're functionally in vegas
1:18:46 PM Hambone: yeah yeah
1:18:49 PM Klagon: yeyeyeyeyeyaa
1:19:11 PM Klagon: I wish we could get like an hour of child visitation per day
1:19:22 PM Hambone: yeah
1:19:27 PM Klagon: get alittle fix then usher them away to safety
1:19:29 PM Hambone: i had much guilt last tme
1:19:44 PM Klagon: I'm usually ok until the middle of day two
1:19:54 PM Hambone: who is this dancer?
1:19:58 PM Hambone: is that jon?
1:20:16 PM Klagon: Chris, with giant australian lifeguard hat and night vision monocle
1:20:25 PM Hambone: jesus
1:20:30 PM Hambone: he's fatter than I thought
1:20:35 PM Hambone: we all need to go on a crash diet
1:20:39 PM Klagon: totally.
1:22:18 PM Hambone: ever been to st louis?
1:22:30 PM Klagon: no. will it make me feel thin?
1:22:35 PM Klagon: Mike just got back
1:22:50 PM Klagon: ask him about his hotel, apparently he had a really sweet view of the arch
1:23:06 PM Hambone: i was just contacted by a headhunter looking to fill a job in st louis
1:23:18 PM Klagon: huh.
1:23:23 PM Klagon: its the most dangerous city in america
1:23:29 PM Hambone: is it?
1:23:33 PM Hambone: worse than detroit?
1:23:35 PM Hambone: and DC?
1:23:37 PM Klagon: which is strange in a counttry that includes detroit
1:23:44 PM Klagon: I think its a per capita assessment
1:31:54 PM Hambone: mmmm
1:31:58 PM Hambone: hmmmmm that is
1:32:01 PM Hambone: mmmm per capita
1:32:21 PM Klagon: thats what I heard. didn't do any independent corroboration or further research
1:32:26 PM Klagon: James Ellroy lives there
1:32:33 PM Klagon: So that ought to tell you something
1:33:07 PM Hambone: miles grew up there
1:33:13 PM Hambone: my vegas friend grew up there too
1:33:16 PM Klagon: So that's awesome
1:33:29 PM Hambone: not if the jazz scene sucks now
1:33:29 PM Klagon: Dick-slingin' ***** grew up there?
1:33:33 PM Hambone: yeah
1:33:43 PM Klagon: So the place can't be all bad
1:33:52 PM Hambone: i don't know if I'd call him dick slingin' ***** when you first met him
1:33:54 PM Klagon: As long as you enjoy random dick on your shoulder
1:34:01 PM Klagon: No?
1:34:13 PM Klagon: Then tell him not to sling dick while I'm playing video games
1:34:14 PM Hambone: might be a weird intro
1:34:24 PM Klagon: What if I call him Dr. Dick-slingin' *****
1:34:32 PM Klagon: I'll extend the proper respect
1:34:37 PM Hambone: you could call him Dr Choco
1:34:42 PM Klagon: I'm not a heathen
1:34:45 PM Hambone: that's what his dick was referred to
1:34:53 PM Klagon: I see
1:34:54 PM Hambone: and he for that matter
1:34:57 PM Hambone: filipino
1:35:00 PM Hambone: brown dick
1:35:01 PM Klagon: Nice that you had a nickname for it
1:35:01 PM Hambone: Choco
1:35:04 PM Klagon: I figured
1:35:08 PM Hambone: wasn't my joke
1:35:13 PM Klagon: He seemed brownish
1:35:27 PM Hambone: pinoi's don't care about that shit
1:35:27 PM Klagon: I figured he was eye-talian
1:35:42 PM Klagon: dick slingin, you mean?
1:35:43 PM Hambone: mike used to show us his furry ass all the time
1:35:48 PM Klagon: Huh.
1:35:54 PM Hambone: dick slingin', flaunting the shit
1:36:03 PM Klagon: Uptight whiteys cant always get behind that
1:36:07 PM Klagon: no pun
1:36:22 PM Klagon: I lived with a guy who used to show people his ass all the time
1:36:25 PM Klagon: Brian.
1:36:30 PM Klagon: He's a corporate lawyer now
1:36:35 PM Hambone: mike called me into another room once, and when I walked in, he was on the pool table on all fours with his super hairy asshole pointed at me, laughing like Beavis
1:36:42 PM Hambone: mike's a drug addict now I think
1:36:43 PM Klagon: A total idiot
1:36:54 PM Hambone: not sure
1:36:58 PM Klagon: Huh
1:37:08 PM Hambone: last I heard he was playing with special k in san fran six years ago
1:37:10 PM Klagon: So why does ***** need the hookup
1:37:22 PM Klagon: Tell him we want some fucking percoset, stat.
1:37:28 PM Hambone: hehe
1:37:33 PM Hambone: i could make that call
1:37:36 PM Hambone: a bit unethical
1:37:39 PM Klagon: slightly
1:37:45 PM Klagon: my back hurts
1:37:45 PM Hambone: dont even know what kind of doctor he is
1:37:53 PM Hambone: my balls are killing me
1:37:53 PM Klagon: he better be a titty doctor
1:38:04 PM Klagon: really, or just for fun
1:38:08 PM Klagon: your balls that is
1:38:08 PM Hambone: that guy would get a hard on at every exam
1:38:13 PM Hambone: fun
1:38:16 PM Klagon: oh
1:38:18 PM Klagon: that's good, I don’t want your balls to hurt unless I do the hurting
1:38:46 PM Klagon: then I know its nothing serious, just that i kicked you, or whacked you with a pool cue
1:38:48 PM Hambone: thanks
1:38:54 PM Klagon: I'm looking out

…

3:27:33 PM Hambone: yo
3:27:38 PM Klagon: yo
3:27:42 PM Klagon: can we go now
3:27:50 PM Klagon: just hang out at the airport for 36 hours?
3:27:58 PM Hambone: that's not a bad idea
3:28:04 PM Klagon: its a nice airport
3:28:13 PM Klagon: did you find out if your fuct or not?
3:28:15 PM Hambone: not a very robust food court
3:28:29 PM Klagon: they closed down the fridays because its filthy
3:28:55 PM Klagon: so we're stuck with that weird noshes joint
3:28:59 PM Klagon: where everything sucks
3:29:06 PM Klagon: kind of
3:29:48 PM Klagon: I think The Shadow is coming to Vegas
3:30:13 PM Klagon: Things just took a left turn to bizarroland.
3:30:38 PM Klagon: with a pitstop in giggly moron ville.
3:39:25 PM Hambone: huh?
3:39:28 PM Hambone: he's in?
3:39:30 PM Klagon: That's what he says
3:39:35 PM Hambone: i thought he was working?
3:39:46 PM Hambone: the good news is that he LIKES the rollaway
3:39:52 PM Klagon: He was all "Hey aren't you guys going to Vegas this weekend?"
3:40:03 PM Klagon: And I was all "FuCK YEAh buddy"
3:40:12 PM Klagon: then he was all "That's funny, me too"
3:40:22 PM Hambone: for work?
3:40:31 PM Klagon: No, to fuck around with us
3:40:41 PM Klagon: and disappear, then reappear
3:40:50 PM Hambone: all Shadow-like
3:40:54 PM Klagon: exactly
3:40:59 PM Klagon: and to cheapify the room
3:40:59 PM Hambone: what happened, ****** got tired of him?
3:41:07 PM Klagon: she fucking hates that guy
3:41:13 PM Hambone: wants some time with the shower massager?
3:41:18 PM Klagon: Word son
3:41:27 PM Hambone: that was a bit cold
3:41:31 PM Hambone: but those things are magic
3:41:38 PM Klagon: tell me about it
3:43:42 PM Klagon: not really
3:43:53 PM Klagon: I don't want to hear about your secret shames
3:44:22 PM Hambone: not for me
3:44:33 PM Klagon: for the ladies
3:44:34 PM Hambone: water massages dont feel great on the nuts
3:44:37 PM Hambone: but the ladies
3:44:38 PM Hambone: oofa
3:44:44 PM Klagon: oo
3:44:45 PM Klagon: fa
3:44:47 PM Hambone: makes the bean go crazy
3:46:49 PM Klagon: this ought to be entertaining
3:46:57 PM Hambone: so wait
3:47:04 PM Hambone: is he going to jet blue on friday?
3:47:13 PM Klagon: as long as he's up for doing whatever we tell him to do
3:47:15 PM Klagon: yes.
3:47:16 PM Klagon: JB
3:47:26 PM Hambone: this kinda fucocks saturday while you're at the wedding
3:47:29 PM Hambone: JB....
3:47:32 PM Hambone: is coming?
3:47:33 PM Klagon: jet blue
3:47:36 PM Hambone: oh
3:47:37 PM Hambone: damn
3:47:45 PM Klagon: I realized that was gonna fuck with you too late
3:47:45 PM Hambone: got worked up for a second
3:47:57 PM Hambone: he would truly have been Big Time
3:48:05 PM Klagon: ohhh saturday with dick slingin *****?
3:48:12 PM Hambone: or Big Time©
3:48:18 PM Hambone: that deserves a copy write
3:48:19 PM Hambone: yea
3:48:22 PM Klagon: we would have to own that shit
3:48:30 PM Hambone: i can't strand The Shadow
3:48:31 PM Klagon: not necessarily
3:48:46 PM Klagon: he might not be interested in poolside
3:48:52 PM Klagon: he might come to the wedding
3:49:04 PM Klagon: its a free for all, no rules
3:49:12 PM Hambone: thats fucked
3:49:18 PM Klagon: whats fucked?
3:49:20 PM Hambone: if he goes to the wedding and I don't
3:49:32 PM Hambone: why don't you get some black pen and scrawl "asshole" across my forehead
3:49:48 PM Klagon: maybe shadow's got his own plan
3:49:53 PM Klagon: is all I'm sayin
3:50:02 PM Hambone: he's going to the rhino for some afternoon delight
3:50:11 PM Klagon: totally
3:50:36 PM Klagon: he's gonna blow a grand at the Rhino saturday afternoon
3:50:44 PM Klagon: then just sleep it off the rest of the weekend
3:51:10 PM Hambone: so he's flying friday?
3:51:21 PM Hambone: leaving monday with us?
3:53:11 PM Klagon: he's flying friday, lands at noon, taking red-eye home sunday night
3:53:20 PM Hambone: he's doing what **** should have done
3:53:30 PM Klagon: he's on the line now, should I mention your saturday fun to him
3:53:49 PM Hambone: tell him I'm supposed to go see a college bud on saturday
3:53:59 PM Hambone: but we may just hang around the house and then head out
3:54:14 PM Hambone: should we upgrade the room?
3:54:16 PM Hambone: hehe
3:54:17 PM Klagon: more the merrier, of course?
3:54:20 PM Klagon: no
3:54:23 PM Klagon: lets keep it mellow
3:54:25 PM Hambone: i assume
3:54:31 PM Hambone: mellow?
3:54:33 PM Hambone: in Vegas?
3:54:41 PM Klagon: on the room, anyway
3:54:47 PM Klagon: the rest of it should be off the heezy
3:55:48 PM Klagon: yeah.. still not going to be in our room all that much, what's the point
3:55:52 PM Klagon: its nice enough
3:55:59 PM Klagon: to recover and fart in
3:56:20 PM Hambone: can't impress a hooker with a rollaway
3:56:26 PM Klagon: true.
3:56:30 PM Hambone: like a hooker needs impressing
3:56:34 PM Klagon: you can if you're just going to kill her anyway
3:56:41 PM Klagon: then it doesn't matter
3:56:43 PM Hambone: so true
3:59:18 PM Hambone: might want to consider the car through monday now
3:59:24 PM Klagon: perhaps
3:59:38 PM Hambone: could come in handy on sunday
3:59:41 PM Klagon: no real need, since we're on the strip
3:59:49 PM Klagon: why handy on sunday?
3:59:58 PM Hambone: but back and forth to old town, out to a club in the evening
4:00:03 PM Klagon: We're gonna be shitcanned on sunday
4:00:06 PM Hambone: could be lots of back and forth
4:00:12 PM Hambone: that's true
4:00:19 PM Hambone: are DWIs illegal in Vegas?
4:00:26 PM Klagon: Better off donating to the local cabbie poplulation
4:00:47 PM Klagon: even 5-6 short rides won't add up to the extra $150 for the jeep
 
…
 
4:05:24 PM Hambone: Shadow good for guns on friday?
4:05:30 PM Klagon: of course
4:05:42 PM Klagon: he gets in an hour before we do
4:05:55 PM Klagon: I wonder if there's a way I can arrange to have him pick up the jeep
4:07:28 PM Hambone: now you're thinking
4:07:31 PM Hambone: he aware of the jeep?
4:07:36 PM Hambone: he likes transportation
4:07:36 PM Klagon: dunno
4:07:43 PM Hambone: so much so that he paid for the entire car last time
4:07:48 PM Hambone: sick fuck that he is
4:07:59 PM Klagon: I believe he AMEXbonused that shit
4:08:16 PM Hambone: ah
4:08:18 PM Klagon: I could just give him the res # and have him transfer the thing to him
4:08:38 PM Hambone: that would be swell
4:08:45 PM Hambone: we're still going to have baggage issues
4:08:49 PM Hambone: jeeps ain't big
4:08:57 PM Klagon: its a wrangler extended
4:09:00 PM Hambone: three dudes, 5 or 6 bags
4:09:01 PM Klagon: i think
4:09:05 PM Hambone: the four door?
4:09:09 PM Klagon: how much shit are you bringin?
4:09:13 PM Hambone: or the Scrambler?
4:09:16 PM Klagon: not the 4 door, the scrambler
4:09:26 PM Hambone: i have a backpack with my computer and gear
4:09:30 PM Hambone: and then a bag with clothes
4:09:34 PM Klagon: right
4:09:44 PM Hambone: dont get on me motherfucker, I was the only one who didnt check baggage last time
4:09:50 PM Klagon: I didnt' check shit
4:09:57 PM Hambone: you dicks packed like a bunch of chicks flyin to the Caribbean
4:10:01 PM Klagon: or did I because ******* was going to anyway?
4:10:07 PM Klagon: that's *******’s fault
4:10:07 PM Hambone: yes you did
4:10:12 PM Hambone: uh huh
4:10:23 PM Klagon: he was all, "I'm checking my bag no matter what"
4:10:29 PM Klagon: "Thats how I'm rolling"
4:10:31 PM Hambone: he's a douche too
4:10:35 PM Klagon: Fuck him
4:10:39 PM Hambone: not even coming
4:10:41 PM Klagon: I ain't checking shit
4:10:41 PM Hambone: fuckwad
4:10:44 PM Hambone: fuck that
4:10:52 PM Klagon: lean and mean
4:10:56 PM Hambone: check this
4:10:59 PM Klagon: swing low, shweet chariots
4:10:59 PM Hambone: fuckers
4:11:05 PM Hambone: oh natural baby
4:11:08 PM Klagon: I got a bag you can check, right here
4:11:16 PM Klagon: smooth as silk
4:11:40 PM Hambone: eeeeeewwwww
4:11:49 PM Klagon: I didn't shave my coin purse
4:11:56 PM Klagon: its a line from a Ween tune
4:11:59 PM Hambone: well thats what it sounded like
4:12:02 PM Klagon: I know
4:12:04 PM Klagon: still funny
4:12:16 PM Hambone: you shave your manbag?
4:12:22 PM Hambone: twisted
4:12:27 PM Klagon: What did I just say?
4:12:29 PM Hambone: aren't you afraid you're going to cut it?
4:12:47 PM Hambone: make one of your nards fall out?
4:12:56 PM Hambone: chasing it as it bounces around the room?
4:13:03 PM Klagon: What the fuck do you shave with, a samurai sword?
4:13:09 PM Klagon: Meat cleaver?
4:13:15 PM Klagon: hedge trimmers?
4:13:17 PM Hambone: "The woman was a dream I had, though rather hard to keep..."
4:13:19 PM Klagon: Jesus
4:13:37 PM Hambone: That time then, once again balls bouncing round the room
4:13:42 PM Klagon: I awoke, shaved my manbag, and send my nard bouncing around the room?
4:13:58 PM Hambone: we could have a hit
4:13:58 PM Klagon: Because I shave with a Gurkha knife
4:14:03 PM Klagon: its catchy
4:14:05 PM Hambone: machete
4:14:16 PM Klagon: I don't think I can get my machete thru customs
4:14:31 PM Hambone: can I get my elephant tusks?
4:14:36 PM Klagon: yeah.
4:14:50 PM Klagon: they aren't dangerous, and they're crucial to your religious observation
4:15:11 PM Hambone: we might have to go to binions and go up to room 813
4:15:15 PM Hambone: smell the door
4:15:20 PM Hambone: say a satanic prayer
4:15:24 PM Klagon: See if the fear is there?
4:15:52 PM Hambone: you mean the Fear?
4:15:56 PM Hambone: punctuate properly
4:15:57 PM Klagon: yeah
4:16:02 PM Hambone: show respect fucktard
4:16:09 PM Klagon: typing quickly, didnt intend to disrespect The Feat
4:16:12 PM Klagon: Fear
4:16:17 PM Hambone: oh jesus
4:16:19 PM Klagon: or the Feat for that matter
4:16:25 PM Hambone: you're gonna burn

…
 
4:21:16 PM Klagon: Beef Jerky Store, 112 B North 3rd Street (behind, parallel to Fremont Street)
4:21:21 PM Klagon: by the way
4:21:26 PM Hambone: there goes my stash
4:21:32 PM Klagon: a lilttle something else to look forward to
4:21:36 PM Klagon: at the jerky store
4:21:40 PM Hambone: yup
4:21:43 PM Hambone: love the jerky
4:21:50 PM Klagon: heard that about you
4:21:52 PM Klagon: ckckckc
4:21:55 PM Hambone: never had anything better than 7-11 jerk
4:22:04 PM Hambone: we all love jerky
4:22:06 PM Klagon: THsi is some serious gourmet shit
4:22:15 PM Hambone: nice
4:22:22 PM Klagon: check out the website
4:22:32 PM Klagon: beefjerkystore.com <http://beefjerkystore.com>
4:22:33 PM Hambone: what's that weird disease people used to get from eating too much meat?
4:22:39 PM Klagon: gout?
4:22:43 PM Hambone: no
4:22:47 PM Klagon: Big Dave had Gout
4:22:51 PM Klagon: Like henry VIII
4:22:58 PM Hambone: yeesh
4:23:07 PM Klagon: controllable these days
4:23:22 PM Klagon: its a liver, kidneys thing
4:23:25 PM Hambone: 8.50 for 7 oz
4:23:27 PM Klagon: unflushed toxins
4:23:33 PM Klagon: at the jerky store?
4:23:35 PM Klagon: jesus
4:23:39 PM Hambone: yeah
4:23:41 PM Klagon: real meat isnt that much
4:23:58 PM Hambone: beef sticks
4:24:09 PM Hambone: i hope this place has t shirts
4:24:15 PM Klagon: yeah.
4:24:22 PM Klagon: I need some cool new tshirts
 

Time, the Insatiable Beast ... Ruining Hunter's Prose ... Spaceboobs

The following is an actual conversation:

10:00:06 AM Hambone: one week
10:00:14 AM Hambone: can you believe that shit
10:00:17 AM Klagon: No
10:00:19 AM Klagon: I cannot
10:00:23 AM Hambone: it seemed like such a far off dream
10:00:27 AM Hambone: and now it's here
10:00:34 AM Klagon: Sweet dream from Heaven
10:00:38 AM Hambone: and in a drunken flash, it will be gone again
10:00:46 AM Hambone: damn you, time!
10:00:51 AM Hambone: why do you curse me?
10:01:16 AM Klagon: Fucking time.
10:01:42 AM Klagon: I need to get a handle on that shit. Start bending it to MY will, rather than always being under its thumb.
10:02:19 AM Hambone: the ability to bend time would come in very handy
10:02:28 AM Hambone: stopping time would be phenominal
10:02:36 AM Hambone: imagine the havoc you could cause
10:02:45 AM Hambone: it's an adam sandler movie
10:02:47 AM Hambone: but still

…

12:53:21 PM Hambone: the audiobook reading of F&L is DREADFUL
12:53:33 PM Klagon: Who is responsible?
12:53:38 PM Hambone: dont know who the fuck cast that guy but they should be fired from a cannon into hell
12:53:50 PM Klagon: Who?
12:53:50 PM Hambone: http://www.audible.com/adbl/site/enSearch/searchResults.jsp?D=Fear+and+Loathing&Ntt=Hunter+S.+Thompson&Dx=mode%2bmatchallpartial&Ntk=S_Author_Search&Ntx=mode%2bmatchallpartial&y=0&N=0&x=0&BV_UseBVCookie=Yes <http://www.audible.com/adbl/site/enSearch/searchResults.jsp?D=Fear+and+Loathing&amp;Ntt=Hunter+S.+Thompson&amp;Dx=mode%2bmatchallpartial&amp;Ntk=S_Author_Search&amp;Ntx=mode%2bmatchallpartial&amp;y=0&amp;N=0&amp;x=0&amp;BV_UseBVCookie=Yes>
12:54:08 PM Klagon: Who the fuck is Ron McLarty?
12:54:14 PM Hambone: so disappointing
12:54:16 PM Klagon: LIke Christopher walken wouldn't have done it?
12:54:17 PM Hambone: some chump
12:54:24 PM Hambone: could you imagine?
12:54:33 PM Klagon: I'm imagining right now
12:54:35 PM Klagon: Its great
12:54:38 PM Klagon: by the way
12:54:55 PM Klagon: What about Campbell Scott reading the Rum Diary?
12:55:02 PM Hambone: it's ok
12:55:05 PM Hambone: a little stiff
12:55:28 PM Klagon: Yeah... he's like that. Aren't you kind of a fan though>
12:55:29 PM Klagon: ?
12:55:52 PM Hambone: he's good
12:55:56 PM Hambone: but not his genre
12:56:20 PM Klagon: This fucking guy sounds like Kasey Kasem
12:56:24 PM Klagon: Its horrible.
12:56:28 PM Klagon: Jesus.
12:56:32 PM Klagon: This is so bad.
12:56:51 PM Klagon: Oh my fucking God. My ears. They will never forgive me.
12:57:18 PM Klagon: Wouldn't they just buzz in after "we were just outside of" <BZZZZ> "
thank you, we'll call you.
12:57:42 PM Hambone: someone greenlighted this
12:57:57 PM Klagon: That's the guy I want to dickslap.
12:57:58 PM Hambone: someone heard it said, "this is ok for an HST book"
12:58:09 PM Klagon: Who is HST anyway?
12:58:17 PM Klagon: Never mind, lets just put it out
12:58:31 PM Hambone: what the fuck is ether?
12:58:34 PM Hambone: doesn't matter
12:58:49 PM Klagon: Lets see what's on the Oprah list
12:59:35 PM Klagon: Is that asparagus?

…

2:57:33 PM Hambone: we should write some kind of sci fi story
2:57:51 PM Klagon: then turn it into a cash-flush religion?
2:58:02 PM Hambone: well
2:58:12 PM Hambone: that's a good idea I hadn't considered
2:58:23 PM Klagon: Beats workin'
2:58:44 PM Hambone: i was thinking more of a mega-franchise with merchandising, multiple sequels, video games, extended universe novels
2:58:46 PM Hambone: cartoons
2:58:49 PM Hambone: comics
2:59:03 PM Hambone: people in costumes walking around conventions
2:59:09 PM Hambone: we should do that
2:59:35 PM Klagon: Excellent idea. From what I've read, they don't even have to be very good
2:59:43 PM Hambone: exactly!
2:59:51 PM Hambone: just slap some generic story arc
2:59:55 PM Hambone: boogie nights in space
3:00:02 PM Hambone: get some fancy effects
3:00:13 PM Hambone: get john williams to score it
3:00:16 PM Hambone: and ZANG!
3:00:18 PM Klagon: nice
3:00:22 PM Hambone: instant millions
3:00:25 PM Klagon: ZANG! indeed
3:00:25 PM Hambone: space porn?
3:00:28 PM Klagon: nice
3:00:37 PM Klagon: might as well see some free titties while we're at it
3:00:43 PM Hambone: Emanuelle in Space kinda covered that
3:00:49 PM Hambone: oh ShowTime
3:00:54 PM Hambone: Time to Show some titties
3:00:55 PM Klagon: It never really gets old
3:01:09 PM Klagon: The kids, they still like tits
3:01:14 PM Hambone: especially when Krista Allen is the Whore Du Jour
3:01:24 PM Klagon: mmmm excellent rack
3:01:32 PM Hambone: magnificent
3:01:49 PM Hambone: and a quarter bouncing ass
3:01:51 PM Hambone: at least
3:02:02 PM Hambone: 12 years ago when she did that seminal series
3:04:08 PM Hambone: they're making a GI Joe movie
3:06:53 PM Klagon: really. that's going to suck
3:07:52 PM Hambone: yeah it is
3:16:09 PM Klagon: Unless Krista Allen is in it.
3:16:24 PM Hambone: i'd go see that
3:16:32 PM Hambone: who was the GI Joe chick? Scarlett?
3:16:44 PM Hambone: do I actually remember that?
3:16:51 PM Hambone: I'm a loser
3:17:04 PM Klagon: dunno. I was too old to watch that
3:17:17 PM Klagon: and I objected to the new GI Joe on principle
3:17:19 PM Hambone: bullshit
3:17:48 PM Hambone: you're never too old to watch armies war against each other seemingly forever without a single person getting shot or dying
3:18:11 PM Hambone: think of all the wasted ammo and not a drop of blood
3:18:15 PM Hambone: just like the A Team