Vegas, baby. Vegas

I suppose it's quite impossible to describe a first-time experience to Sin City without resorting to tall tales and marketing slogans. That's because everything you've heard or seen about Vegas, whether it's through the media or via personal accounts, is dead-on. Las Vegas is a wonderful, disgusting city. There is no subtlety here. None. It is what it is and it makes absolutely no apologies for its indulgences, artifice and pitiful lack of indigenous culture.

And I have to say, for 3.5 days last week, all this manufactured "stuff" that is Vegas was a breath of fresh air. Figuratively speaking, of course. I realized how amazingly grimy and decrepit the city actually was. The freshest air I actually breathed was when we got off the plane back at the Seatac airport in Seattle. The 3 days prior was sort of a dazed wonderland of blinking lights, perpetual clattering of gambling chips and fake titties.

Here's to you, Las Vegas. You're about as subtle and pretty as a jackhammer, but I'll be damned if you aren't a jolly good cesspool of sin.