My Trip To Vegas

Chapter 1. How I Got To Vegas.
-I was supposed to fly from Moline to Dallas to Vegas. But then, because I chose to fly American, the 2nd flight got canceled. So I called customer service and was on hold for an hour and a half, at which point they decided I would fly from Moline to Atlanta to Vegas.
The Moline flight was delayed by 15 minutes, which gave me exactly 10 minutes to get to my connecting flight. I sat next to a man who looked like Fabio but smelled like pickles. But when I got there, it had already taken off. So then began the great quest to get me on another flight. This also became the point where I had a HUGE audition in Vegas at 9:25 for Hairspray that could affect the course of my entire life.

I got the flight.

Chapter 2–Why Vegas Sucks
If you are not A: 21 B: Rich, or C: Hot, there is not a lot of opportunity for you in Vegas. This is best exemplified by this story. We went outside, andapparently on the strip there are many club promoters who offer you passes to their clubs to bring in business. One offered us club passes, and we said no, we’re not 21, but thanks. To which the club promoter responded..

“Well, that sucks”. And walked away.

Chapter 3–Planet Hollywood.
Planet Hollywood is HUGE. There is a mall in the casino. And i’m not just talking about like a strip mall. No. This is a huge ass mall. Which, consequently, has been decorated to resemble the streets of Agraba in Aladdin. The ceiling was painted to look like the sky. Oh, and it rains.

On the inside of the building. Every half hour and hour.

Chapter 4: The Elevators
Apparently, Planet Hollywood is so huge that they have to divide the elevators up in to North South East and West, with North and West going to half of the floors, South and East going to the others. There are giant flat screen TVs in the ceilings. One night after we ate, we got on the elevator and there were seven huge black men and 3 little white girls (that’s us). One of the guys said something to the effect of “It’s like a mother fucking rap video up in here”
And there was another guy in the corner who merely nodded silently and said


Chapter 5: The Main Event
So, the pageant was fun. The current (old?) Miss USA looked like a giant bannana, Miss Ohio had to be at LEAST 50 and Delaware looked like a man. And Texas is a hobgoblin in disguise. Donald Trump (who I saw) should make shere to not feed her after midnight, or she might turn into a monster.Although, she is a beauty queen so in reality, I don’t think we’ll have to worry about the imminent threat of food ingestion by the new miss USA.
Abbey was just fantastic. And the bitch gets to be on the Ellen Show, so I think she did pretty okay for herself. I was quite obnoxious, but it was only to really offset the fear I felt by being surrounded by scary pageant moms and rabid California fans. There was a little man down in the front who looked like Sean Astin from the Goonies and started mocking the fact that anything would set off the California fans by yelling “Callifooooornnia”. Which would then send them into veritable paroxysms of joy and happiness about the fact that they did, indeed, support California. Which was funny as hell, except that they were REALLY loud, and I was sitting REALLY close. Of course, I was inappropriate. I tried to lead a cheer to support the tech crew.

No one but me cheered.

Chapter 6: Packing.
I would just like to say that being a beauty queen means that you need to have a TON of shit. If it were me, I’d have a suitcase and maybe a duffel. Maybe. But no. These girls had BOXES of crap. And not only that, but they were supplied with hefty gift baskets as well. Nice gift baskets. Filled with many lovely things. However, the practicality of some is something i would like to address. The specific prize I have in mind is a gift certificate for Eyelash Extensions. The fact that these actually exist could be the basis for an entire note, but that is not the point. Picture in your mind your average computer paper. Got it? Now imagine that someone printed off a certificate for these faux lashes. A thoughtful gift. Now imagine that someone sprayed said gift certificate with some sort of unstickable sticky spray and stuck it to a computer paper-sized piece of glass that is about 2 inches thick. That was the gift certificate. have never heard of anything more ironic than a 10 pound gift certificate for a service used to apply eyelashes.
Also, there was a string-less G-string, which is apparently going to revolutionize the future of our underwear. A string-less G-string. Instead, there are sticky patches that you stick onto your…..person…at…str

ategic points….

Picture it in your mind. It’s exactly how it looked.

Chapter 7. How to survive if you’re a picky eater.
You won’t. They put a Christmas tree in Abbey’s macaroni and cheese.

That is just excessive.

Chapter 8: The Hospitality Suite
It is actually just one of the super nice suites at the end of every floor, but this was a magical room filled with cookies and free T-shirts. There was also an amazing velvet purple couch. And Miss New York, who told us that the after party was “whack” and that it was “a hijack”. Which I gathered to mean that at some point, someone remembered that there should be a party, so they sort of took over an area and created the party right there.
I am glad I am not from New York.

I don’t speak beauty queen ebonics that well.

Chapter 9: Why I Would Never Survive At a Pageant
Besides the fact that I would not be able to keep a straight face when talking about how deeply I want world peace and how I personally believe that it is important it is that the youth of tomorrow such as to have maps such as….
They send someone into the bathroom with you to watch you to make sure you’re not like, shooting up heroin or puking up your supper like the fat, fat 6’2″ 110 pound lard ass you are. They watch you poop.


Chapter 10: Getting Home.
We sat next to a huge fat man who needed a seat belt extender. That’s what we call “a hint”.
Abbey and I had an epic adventure sprinting through the Chicago airport, and they held the plane for us, Because they are thoughtful like that. When we got off, there was a lady who had the good sense to inform us that “They really weren’t kidding when they said that it was cold in Iowa”.

I also later heard her remark “I hope I see some corn”.

Fucking tourists.

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