Fuck you care.
Livin' Las Vegas Loca.
I now live in Las Vegas, for those of you that did not know this.
Being jobless anywhere sucks ass. Being jobless in a city that requires you to drive everywhere you wanna go really sucks ass. I hate driving. Hate it hate it hate it. Its hard to explore and see things when gettign around is based on going 45 miles an hour and whipping off into the parking lot of your destination.
Where you will exchange money for stuff. This is tough to do when ya gots no money.
I've been researching the shit out of local stuff online between bursts of the creative brilliance that drives me to add features here (that noone will ever play with) and after typing Las Vegas and a few other random terms into Google, the narcissistically delicious site of sarrrahjane pops into the list.
This was quite the find in terms of: I got time to kill, there are reams of shit there for the reading, and (reading == timewasted); I took ye olden craptop to the porch, grabbed coffee and smokes, and started reading 'till I could take no more. My attention span is only about 2 cigarettes (the universal time unit of smokers) these days, so it actually wasn't that long.
I popped sj an email and asked her for some good divey bars, since she seems to know a decent deal about the local establishments.
Kindly replying, she offered up the Las Vegas Lounge ( Tranny bar. I found it a bit creepy and not kitzshy enough, though that may have to do with all the halloween shit), Sonny's Saloon (slightly out of the way, but a truly great bar. Sit. Drink. Smoke. Just what a bar is supposed to be. They even got nifty fiberoptic twinkle lights in the bar ceiling, and a crapload of Rat Pack in the juke.)
The best thing on the list, however, turns out to be The Double Down Saloon. Their site declares, "The Happiest Place on Earth."
Truly. It just may be. I went there wednesday night and it eas so fucking cool I've been back twice in the past three days. Smoky. Dark. The walls are covered in freaky-deaky murals, and the mirrors and bathrooms are covered in stickers. Two dollar PBRs, some house shot thats called ass juice ($3 apeice, 3 for $11), and a great jukebox. There are even people there that I don't immediuately hate right off the bat, and thats a rare friggin thing. It's aplace where the person next to you will engage in the standard complete stranger fellow barfly banter.
[ The DD also keeps their site up to date, which is a lot more than I can say about most places. this gives them mega points in my book, being that that shit matters to me and all. ]
Where I was going with this is the fact that this place has some cool ass live music, too. Wednesday night is Blues, which I was lucky enough to stumble upon. I actually caused hell fo freeze over by purposely going to see bands play last night.
There were three punk-hardcore type bands, my fave being Mercury Legion, hailing from firey San Deigo. The mandatory joke was made. As an added bonus, while the show was Loud, it wasn't JESUS FUCK I CAN'T HEAR MYSELF THINK Loud.
I'm just sayin'.
Favorite happenings were the songs Filthy Hippies followed by Dolphin tastes Good. There was also an 80's metal tribute song titled Heavy Metal Nightmare, with some fine lyrics about Dragons and Gods (I think. A bit hard to understand at times), lots of WAAAAAAAAAHHHHH Iron Maiden type sinigng, and the singer telling the guiatarist to "GO YNGWIE ON THAT THING!"
But I think the best part of the night was when they put the question put to the crowd:
Zero cover. $2 PBR longnecks. Punk.
2 Nov 03
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