Born to love volcanoes

Las Vegas is really like that.

Whatever you've heard, Las Vegas is really like that. It's a place where you check your sense of unreality at the door.

"Yes, those people really are being married by Elvis."

"Yes, I'm playing a slot machine where all the winning combinations have to do with SPAM."

"Yes, there's an animatronic bear grumbling at me in front of the McDonald's."

"Yes, there's a volcano erupting outside my hotel room window."

Anywhere else in the country, if you reported this stuff, they would fucking lock you up and revoke your passport. In Las Vegas, it's just another day. Please leave your money and move on.

We went out to a wedding of some friends. I do have to say, some of our friends' friends have truly garish taste in clothing. Ladies, no matter what your trailer-trash cousin in Missouri thinks, there are far, FAR fewer places and occasions at which you can wear sequined silver shoes than you have been told. And guys, you must not wear a white tie over a black shirt unless you are in fact active or retired Mafia, OK?

There was at least one side benefit to this. Penny and I looked more tasteful than practically anyone else there, and there were plenty of slightly-trashed, rather-more-than-slightly-trashed women to check out. One of the groom's friends was a 40-something woman with terrific legs and a horrible hat and voice, wearing one of those short sort of coatdresses that will fly open to nearly the waist if you let it, which she did quite often.

For such things, I will forgive a voice that sounds like a minor character in a Warner Brothers cartoon.

The whole weekend was terrific. We flew into Phoenix, then drove across the nothingness to Las Vegas, arriving in the middle of the night. The next day we got up and wandered around to check out the hotel and casino, and then did the wedding and the party afterward, which was at a friend's house on the base of Sunrise Mountain, the big-ass mountain east of Las Vegas. We got back to the hotel, still all dolled up from the wedding (I am not one of those guys who ditches portions of the suit as the evening goes on... plus, it was cold) and absolutely fucked each other's brains out. If I had to guess, I would say that Penny has some sort of fairly gentle rape fantasy in her head, because she seems to like it when we just sort of attack each other, nearly-fully clothed, and when all she has to do is ditch her panties and go at it. That suits me just fine, because I like feeling all the different textures of skin and hair and nylon and silk and everything else. Human bodies can be a little boring all by themselves.

I am pretty sure this is never going to end. We haven't worn each other out in a year so far, so this is likely to continue until something breaks.

Anyway, I am back in the East again. She had to stay out there this week for business, and so I have a few days to catch up on things. Sleep. Cats. Email. This site.