MY LUNCH WITH CHRIS MILLER OR MY LAST FIRST MEAL AT THE ORLEANS!

It doesn't take much to make me happy.

A few laughs.

A healthy bongload.

Butter. Chocolate. Pepsi. Lemons. Free food.

Well, Ma Mere, La Babs gave me a free lunch buffet at The Orleans.

It doesn't take much to make me happy. The buffet at The Orleans didn't.

By no means.

By the by, "Ma Mere" is "our national heroine was a sweaty little prostitute down by the river Seine" you know,French, for "my Mom".

Babs.

So, Babs gives me this free buffet ticket and off I wobbled to The Orleans. I drove to The Gold Coast instead. Both ugly. Both tacky. Both the scenes of some pretty unpleasant memories in the old cranium.

I lost a tooth from bowling at The Orleans. Well. It might have been the twelve beers I might have downed between innings.

Or whatever they call whatever you do while throwing the pretty pink ball.

Never mind.

So. I call up Christopher Miller to join me. He had already eaten (lucky bastard) but said he would join me.

Chris owns "Engayging Introductions". He'll "Send you on your last first date".

Clever, no? Quite.

My rule on restaurants is pretty basic. Look for fat people. Fat black people are extra points.

You see. Fat people mean that the portions are going to be huge. Fat people are cheap. The fatter the ass, the cheaper the bitch.

Really.

I swear.

Now. When you see fat black people you know that the portions are gonna be huge (black people are cheap.). There's also a decent chance that the food will be pretty good because black people don't eat nasty food ("I KNOW you didn't just give me this and expect me to pay for it!?!").

There is a variable in all of this.

OLD PEOPLE.

Old people, especially old white, will eat anything.

The Orleans was full of old white people.

I didn't realize that Hover Rounds could fit between shrimp and salads.

At full speed.

They can.

I went to the first US Festival (I was sixish. What?) and by the time I came home two days later ( I was dating the son of the Venezuelan Defense Minister. We used to do it on the football field of my High School. "Oh Hugo. Oh Hugo! Oh Hugo, why does it make a sharp left?!? WTF?!? But. I digress.) what was I on about? Oh yeah. Long story short, I ate some chicken that had been out on the counter (it was August). Turns out when I bit into it even though I had stopped chewing, the chicken in my mouth was still moving.

Euww.

Nurse Cuntillia at Queen of The Angels Hellspital (Oh yeah, I went to emergency) explained to me that in some poor countries maggots were considered a source of protein and were actually a delicacy.

Yeah. And this one guy told me the same thing about splooge.

I couldn't swallow that either.

Well. At The Orleans I saw something I had never seen in a buffet in The LV before.

No, not the oxygen tank attached to the turbo scooter chair. Not the stretch polyester flower print shorts on the 300lb Asian chick.

No. There it was. As plain as day.

A stack of dirty plates! In the plate dispenser!

Bitch, that is NOT how we roll in The LV!

I could forgive the veggie Lasagna and the cheese Enchilada that tasted exactly the same. The Shrimp that seemed to have been born in the same pond they kidnap those poor Sea Monkey families from. Why I could even forgive the Rihanna remixes playing in the distance.

But a dirty plate! No. PLATES!

IN THE PLATE DISPENSER!

HELLS TO THE NO!

Did I mention that Chris Miller didn't eat at The Orleans?

Clever, no? Quite.

The Orleans Hotel
www.orleanscasino.com

4500 W Tropicana Ave
Las Vegas, NV 89103
(859) 426-5196

AW HELLS TO THE FUCKING NO!

Ok, last week everyone from That One on down saw fit to bag on The LV.

Seems Sin City is an example of the type of place that people who run shit go to waste tax payers dollares.

Never mind that we offer the best conference facilities at the best prices in the entire fucking world.

Nope. The LV is a big ole sinkhole of the people's money.

Uh.

Huh.

I think we are all just a tad upset these days at the pigs at the trough who fiddle and order up $50million French jets while so many are suffering.

Or giving themselves cost of living raises while setting off for vacations paid for by us in Virginia.

Oh.

Wait.

I got that wrong.

Those were our Congress folks!

Oh yeah baby, while you had your eye on the Wall St. types, your local congressman was spitting in his palm before cruising up your (and my) Hershey highway.

It seems that while most of the country is worried about losing their jobs and union guys at the plants in Dee-troit are being told to give up their health benefits and old folks are now expected to pay for their medicine because their pensions have magically vanished, these fat fucks are having a vacay in the hills of Virginia!

Yeah I called you out by name Barney Frank.

Didn't I?

When asked why it was okay for them to go-a-spa-ing, your reps said, "it was business".

Ok.

Wait.

Stop.

So. It's not okay for people to come to The LV, but, it's perfectly alright for those reptilian fat asses (sorry Barney F.) to go off to some backwoods inn with a bus full of lobbyists.

But like a late night Ronco commercial, "Wait, there's more!"

Let's start with the Repugs.

The high values crowd went on their vacay at the Homestead Resort, an 18th-century mountain spa in the hills of Virginny.

But according to their hack mouth piece Matt Lloyd, "We don't believe in using taxpayer money." No, they don't sell their asses to any old broke ass taxpayers.

They set their sights much higher.

Like a big boobied blonde at a WWII vets reunion of billionaires.

They let lobbyists pay their way.

And then had 54 of said vultures attend the golf fest with them. That's a way better ratio than strippers to patrons at Glitter Gulch.

That's for sure.

Really.

I swear.

You know what?

Them I don't care about.

It's the fucking Dems that piss me off.

Did you notice the name of this blog? It's all about being a Dem and the road I traveled to get to where I am.

Team Hillary morphed into Koolaid Rules because I truly thought WE were better than THEM.

Guess the fuck what?

WE is THEM.

WE went to another inbred inn where the speciality is something called a hops and chamomile massage.

I'm Gay and that shit is way too Gay for me.

Fags.

"Our issues conference, especially this year, was a very serious working session," said Emily Barocas, spokeswoman for the Democratic Caucus.

You bitches couldn't work in your fucking offices that we just gave you a $4,700 cost-of-living raise, bringing YOUR annual salaries to $174,000 to work in?

Bone you!

Well, I just wonder what our drunken Mayor Barney must be thinking as he sits teetering on his bar stool, held up by his two permashowgirls.

I'm sure he sits there reeking of Gin thinking, "this. Is fucked."

IT'S A MAD MAD MAD MAD MAD WORLD!

WTF?

That means, for the twelve of you who don't text, WHAT THE FUCK?

Everyday that passes lately I find myself asking myself and the world, WTF?

Recently, That One said some seriously stoopid shit.

In short, That One said the following, "You can't get corporate jets, you can't go take a trip to Las Vegas or go down to the Super Bowl on the taxpayer's dime."

WTF?

Yo, Biatch, can I take a moment to remind you that The LV is built on the revenue brought in by visitors who come here for vacations, conventions, and all sorts of business. Each one of these people stays in a hotel which pays a tax which in turn gives us the worst bus service on God's brown earth.

Those visitors also buy fried Twinkies (I'm obsessed), buy a bottle at XS, rent a car, I could go on.

Well, because of That One shooting off his mouth to appeal to some people somewhere, a number of planned visits to the city were cancelled because now it's considered "bad PR" to have a convention or business meeting in The LV.

Now I did a little investigation. To book a room in San Francisco at a decent hotel is roughly $289 per night. In The LV it's $99-189 for a comparable room. In addition, you can't beat the deals on dining, entertainment and our conference facilities are the best in the world.

And our hookers advertise.

How convenient.

Really.

I swear.

By the way, WTF?

Today's cover of the Review Journal (The LV's version of the Peoria Pinnacle, or some such) has some of our local skanks, uh, I mean, sidewalk Sally's plastered across the front page in living color.

The point? They are the Vice Squads pin ups girls for truly dumbass ideas.

You see, these ladies de leisure (that's hairy underarmed females for Ho's, you know, French) had the temerity to sell some poo-nany in their spare time.

And why shouldn't they be pilloried for practicing the world's oldest profession?

Because, glaringly missing were the people who purchase their services.

You know, the men!

WTF?

If it takes two to Tango, it sho nuff takes two to do the muthafuckin' bang bang stank stank.

Why is that the Pimps and the nasty ass, loser men aren't on the front page of said paper looking like the erectile challenged worm smegma that they are?

Only women bleed.

What else?

Oh yeah.

WTF?

That fat hairy fuck Wa Keen Phoenix was on Letterman recently.

You know, I don't give two farthings or an old ladies stained depends about this Borat wannabe. However, this grotesquery has a job to do.

One fucking job.

Promote the (probably boring) movie he just got paid millions (why?) to make.

Instead, Cousin It was taking up far too much of my air playing like some hairy, fat use ta be somebody.

So what you say?

I'll tell you what. That hairy furball was ignoring and dissing everyone who worked on that movie (oh, I don't know what the movie is. Gwyneth Paltrow is in it. Ok? What more do you need to know? She was in fat Hal or some shit. Did you care then? Do you care now?). I've worked on movies and for no less than 12 hours a day, 7 days a week, hundreds of people work their asses off.

And for what?

Cousin It basically said, "Fuck You" to all of those people by going on Letterman (who was brilliant!) and taking up 10 minutes with his autistic act and neglecting to promote the fucking movie!

WTF?

Verily verily, it comes back to Oscar Goodman our drunken Mayor (not that that's a bad thing).

Barney left Moes just long enough to tear That One a new bunghole about his dumbass remarks about The LV.

Other than to stand outside of AA meetings with a couple of long in the tooth showgirls laughing at people who don't understand the value of Boodles, Oscar hasn't had a coherent idea in years.

Btw, if he ever needs help standing outside of AA meetings laughing at the folks who traded in a life of perfectly good booze for 4 dollar coffee and cancer sticks, I'm in.

Really.

I swear.

WTF?

Oh yeah.

Barney.

Ok, Barney has helped the hood near my criblet resemble the Bronx with it's vacant lots awaiting "Luxury Hi-Rise Living" that if there is a God in Covina, aint never gonna come. He's the leading proponent of getting people to move downtown just as soon as we get the poor and middle class people who live there to leave.

Guess what Dude? Aint nobody gonna move into a $600,000, five sq ft, one bedroom "loft like" APARTMENT! How about a fucking grocery store or a park?

Or maybe, God forbid, a real live Museo?

Oh, wait!

Barney pushed for a Museo.

A Museo de Costra Nostra.

WTF?

Did I mention that Barney used to spring murderers, thugs and thieves out of jail and away from the electric chair? Yeah, he was a freaking Mob lawyer. So, naturally when he thinks Museo the word association is El Tributo de la Criminales!

Now, don't get me wrong. Barney says it will be good for tourism.

Ok.

However, most of those criminals are long gone.

And forgotten.

In todays Celebrity Death Match culture wouldn't it make more sense to honor the criminals of today? I mean, how about a salute to all the Meth dealers located in the area around Sahara and Maryland Pkwy?

I have numbers.

Or maybe a "Hall of Celebrity Crackheads"?

Who wouldn't want to combine a trip To Mermaids on Fremont Street with a diorama of Whitney Hustons' bathroom at The Wynn? "Look, Merle, that crack pipe still has her burnt lip flesh on it! Get a picture!"

I know I would pay for that.

Really.

I swear.

I guess my point in all of this is thus.

Before you make a dumbass decision, be it bagging on The LV or arresting the Ho but not the trick or coming up with a fucking salute to crime, stop.

Breathe.

Repeat the idea inside your head.

And for Kathy Lee Giffords sake, don't do it or say it if the first thing that comes to your mind is......

WTF?

DO NOT FUCK WITH KATHY GRIFFIN WHEN A GAY IS IN THE ROOM

I recently received the following email. I have quoted it verbatim. I have included my response. I "replied all" just to let everyone on this guys mailing list know what I thought.

I am Gay. You don't fuck with Kathy Griffin and expect a Gay to just sit there.

Do you?

Know who Kathy Griffin is?
She is NOBODY as far as I'm concerned!
"At the Emmy Awards, Kathy Griffins speech said, " a lot of people get up here and thank Jesus". She went on to say, "Suck it Jesus, this is my God now!" referring to her Emmy. As a Christian I am offended by her speech. What do you think would have happened if she had made her hate speech against Muhammad????

Kathy Griffin has the right as an American to say what she thinks. As a Christian-American, so do I. I will refuse to watch any show that she may be on or purchase tickets to any event at which she would perform. What will you do? If you delete this, nothing bad will happen to you, but if you pass this on, you will truly have stood up for Jesus Christ. Let's see what Christians can do.

PLEASE FORWARD THIS MESSAGE TO OTHER JESUS BELIEVERS!!

MY RESPONSE
I can't stand when celebs get up and say that Jesus or God had
something to do with their winning an award. I also hate when coaches
lead their teams in prayer to win a game. I also hate when beauty
contestants thank God for winning Miss Potato Field or whatever.

I hope God, Jesus, Mohamed, Buddha and whoever else has far more
important things to worry about than any of the people above and their
petty needs.

Example: Rappers who get up and thank God for an award after they have
built a career on turning Black women into Ho's and Bitches and Young
Black men into Niggas. I'm pretty sure God don't like that.

I also don't think that Jesus was actively involved in sending
Americans off to kill and be killed in Iraq. Nor do I feel Mohamed
had a role in flying planes into the World Trade Center.

Nor do I think God was there when Jesse Jackson was having adulterous
sex with a woman and having a bastard child. But to hear Jesse tell
it, God is always there with him.

So called "Christians" make me ill with their hyperventilating about
"Happy Holidays" instead of "Christmas". As if Christmas still has
more to do with the birth of Christ than a way for the news to gauge
the economy based on people buying useless crap made in "Godless"
China.

So, I'm sorry, I have to say that Kathy (though she really said it the
wrong way) has my support.

Having said that, I wish more people were like you and stood up for
their beliefs and actually put themselves out there for whatever
response they might get.

Thanks and please include me on your email list as I always want to
hear every side of opinion.

Derek Washington