I should be working on my open love letter to casinos, strip clubs and gay bars.  Soap helped me with some confused facts because I am usually too wasted to remember my times at those establishments.

Why did everyone at the blackjack table think I was a professional blackjack player?  The mind is too blurred.

How many shots of Grey Goose did I order that night at the Penthouse Club?  6?  8?  10??  And what was the name of that one dancer?  No idea right now.  I shall launch an investigation.

And how about those jokes at the gay bar?  Gay Bar II, for those of you who are keeping score at home.

Ahhh, Gay Bar II –  Come for the cheap drinks and the hot bartender; stay (too long) for the major regret of your holiday.  My Lady GaGa jokes killed!  I flirted with everyone.  I stole the show.  Why am I here in the soggy, bleak desert when I can be in soggy, bleak New Orleans?  Anyone have a good answer?  Because of my job?!?!  I have quit better jobs and ran off to crazier destinations in the past!  Oh, nuts!  No more quitting and running for Jake.  It’s time to hunker down and make something of this dismal situation.  I dusted off my Suetonius last week and I am totally feeling a supernatural connection to Tiberius.  Here I am, in my own personal self-imposed exile, but who is Augustus in this scenario?  I feel like Augustus as well.  Augustus and I both enjoy games of chance and we both have bad skin.  Enough said.

This post sucks.  I thought it was going to be fun because I am riding a mellow buzz thanks to Talisker.  I now understand the meaning of life.  I have witnessed the beauty of the Almighty.  I have bathed in the Fountain of Life.  I have suckled at the teet of the Goddess.  Hey!  I should write about booze more often.

Talisker: Worth More Than Your Life.

Original post by Charles J. Chinwannabutr