Hijinx At The Check-In counter

   There is nothing worse than waiting at the check-in counter to get a room for your magnificent vacation in the New Las Vegas…with nothing to do.
   There will still be nothing to do in the check-in lines at the New Las Vegas but you won't care because there will be other people doing plenty of things that you can watch. Hot lesbians making each other come via manual and oral explorations of each other's twats and tits while draped across sections of the long check-in venues…you will find yourself actually getting pissed off when the topless cutie down the way raises her hand and waggles it while calling out to you "Next, please!" Because it means you are going to have to take your eyes off the action and move along. Don't worry, you'll get over it. Really really fast, at this place.

Meet Your Driver

   Meet your driver. Transportation to and from the major environs of Las Vegas will be provided free of charge with donations being accepted by those travelers who appreciate the lack of clothing and the lack of islamic belief systems among the driving personnel. Yes, that's right, the drivers will be wearing things akin to the Lingerie Leagues' "uniforms" and none of the drivers - not even of the taxis - will be Muslims. And if they are Muslims they will have to do a pretty good job of disguising it. Yes, the New Las Vegas will totally have its shit together regarding the disciples of Allah. Because, you see, Muslims are not good for anything and so therefore there will be no need for them in the New Las Vegas as employees. Because employment and Islam are at odds with each other and any employment a Muslim does procure for himself is just to occupy his time until he is ordered to start killing people who are not Muslims. And let's face it, they kill other Muslims as well, so let's leave them with with their own ilk and kin to kill. And I don't think any rational person would have a problem with that since the only good Muslim is one accused of apostasy.

New Las Vegas Casino Security

   The guards patrolling the casinos and environs of the hotels and shopping areas will not be fat Mexican 3rd generation illegal high school dropout 19 year old oafs rousting more normal customers than troublemakers because it's safer and easier. No. There will be no people like that. In fact there will be no male guards at all. There will be scantily clad hot babes with swords and or spears who will sever your limbs or impale you like barbecue if you cause any fucking trouble. They will also completely disrobe before they attack, causing you precious seconds of preparedness should you have been so foolish as to decide resistance was not futile. Seeing their pussy flash into view will give the guards all the advantages and give you none. Why not just behave? They'll be happy to show you their pussy without killing you if you just ask nice and hand them a 20.

Poolside At The Hell Hotel

   Poolside activities at the Hell Hotel, as depicted in the bottom picture, are different from what constitutes normal poolside activity on a good day in the traditional Las Vegas Strip environment as depicted in the top picture. An array of hotties poolside at the Hell very often quickly turns into a cannibalistic bloodbath. Demons would rather eat organs than eat pussy. This traditional portrayal that you hear about of succubi and incubi wanting to fornicate is pretty much soft-pedaling what succubi and incubi are actually interested in doing to you: and that would be devouring you raw if possible and pulling you apart limb from limb if eating you like candy is out of the question. Of course you are supposed to think these manifestations poolside at the Hell Hotel are all prearranged skits and plays for your entertainment. And who is to say they are not.

The Throne of Satan

   The Hell Hotel has as one of its unadvertised features the actual throne of Satan. He is not in it much, he is always on the go, it seems. Most of the guests never even get to see it, you have to be willing to wander and explore the property to an extent a lot of the guests find unwarranted, for one reason or another, most of them having to do with peace of mind. The Hell Hotel is not scary, exactly, so much as it is relentless. It has a resonating almost delightful - if you are that kind of person - sort of exuberant futility. It is like DOOM but with better rendering pixels. Also, unlike DOOM, things do not appear from around corners and shoot you to death. Those who grew up with DOOM will recall that DOOM is not so much depressing as it is persistent in its own determination to put you somewhere where you don't belong whereas the things that do belong there are quite content to be there. Maybe not happy to be there, but who can discern the anatomy of emotions of folks and non-folks born and raised in hell. To them it's home. To you?.....well, what can I say, it's Hell.

Your Helpful Consierges At The Hell Hotel

   Your questions during your stay at the Hell Hotel can be directed to the two excellent employees of the Hell Hotel who work at the consierge station, Noface and Zargnarog. But really, is what you need to know so fucking important that you need to approach either one of these two to get your answer? Noface is especially hard to understand even over and above his natural reluctance to communicate by amy means other than a pickax into the back. Sprays of what one would assume is spittal fly from his...from the area immediately above his tie...and can be quite distracting to the listener trying to nail down the details of when tickets for the next "O" performance go on sale and where. Or whatever it is the Cirque du Soleil will be doing in the New Las Vegas over and above their in-your-face sex acts in the lobbies and restaurants of the town.
   Zargnarog is more talkative but even then it's not long sentences. "I want you dead" is his most common response when asked a question by a paying guest.
   You might be asking by now "Why would anyone at all go to the Hell Hotel under any circumstances other than duress?"
   You would have to ask the customers of the place. I dont have that answer. Noface and Zagnargog might have the answer, you could ask them. Bring a towel if you ask Noface.

The Hell Hotel

   The Hell Hotel and Casino is a step removed even from the most unique of the new hotels and casino themes which will abound in the New Las Vegas. It is almost a good idea not to even go in there sober. Being falling down drunk will be a better way to go. You will not be arrested or harmed by the staff, they will feel some relief that here at least is one guest who will not be staring into space wondering where his sanity went.
  The walkway to the check-in counter accommodates only one party at a time. The staff and management feel that this is the best way to test your mettle for the rest of the stay. The narrow nightmare version of the Yellow Brick Road that leads to the desk is bordered on both sides by a variously changing collection of ponds that appear to be blood-filled wading pools. The color of the water varies from clot-black to diluted-cranberry red, as though drainage from some slaughter occurring in another part of the building is being washed past and then leaving. The varying blood flow is eternal.
   Once the arrangements are made at the desk the guest and his party are taken through the blinding white light that is like unto a curtain on the other side of which is the awe and mystery that is Hell.

The Lost Inspiration For The New Las Vegas

 

   The above statues have the honor and distinction of being the subconscious inspiration for my concept of the New Las Vegas. Originally standing at the two entrances of the RA nightclub at the Luxor, they have since been removed and lost as to their location. They were, I believe, created by a man named Daniel Miller. I had never stayed in Las Vegas until  in the recent past shortly before digital cameras became available. The woman I married had sublimated her avocation of photography to the mundane and - to me - the miserable existence of raising two sons amid a broken marriage. Since I was addicted to an appreciation of the visual arts, and being a writer, fully understanding the creative urge, I encouraged her to become again involved in her artistic pursuits.
Encouraging creativity in others is almost a vocation with me. She bought a camera and so did I although I knew nothing about photography or cameras but in short order I was immersed in study and practice. At the same time I became in a small way obsessed with seeing this phenomenon called Las Vegas in detail.
   We stayed a week at the Luxor and as I explored the hotel and the city, one morning, on my own I wandered the uninhabited portions of the casino and its environs and came upon the closed and, except for me, uninhabited environs of the entrance. These two sculptures stood guard. I gasped and said "Las Vegas is for me." I went and got my camera, a film device, and returned and took many pictures. No one stopped me. Flash attachments now at the Luxor are rewarded with fat-bellied idiots coming up to you and snarling at you to stop. How these dolts react these days to iphones taking pictures all over the place I don't know. However I was not bothered. Continuing my explorations I came across in an almost hidden portion of the huge arena a second entrance to the RA with two more statues, similar to these. I took pictures of them also, my cup now filled with delight and my cock now filled with jizz.
   After a few years we both upgraded to digital slr's. My first item of business after getting one was to return to the Luxor to really get down to business photographing these four women with all manner of mood-inducing creativity.
   The sculptures were gone. The RA had closed down forever and the guardians outside it were...well, who knows what happened to them. They certainly never reappeared at some other venue, not at the Luxor and not in the town itself.
   This ignited a simmering resentment that many years later resulted in this blog. I was determined to avenge these magnificent creatures, now lost to the world's slavering lust-chasers.
   Farewell, my pretties, I shall remake the entire city in your images or I shall die trying.