Cirque du C'thulhu

   Even as we read, the vaunted Cirque du Soleil, which unfortunately still exists, has a new show "inspired by Avatar." The New Las Vegas will have Cirque shows "inspired by Lovecraft."

 There won't be a lot of needless acrobatics in these shows, there will be basically naked women summoning C'thulhu or something even worse, and being "made love to" by it and then being, ya know, devoured, and maybe being excreted if some way can be made to make that look erotic. Which I doubt. But ya never know what creative people can contrive to make boners happen even when you think boners should not be happening. Boner petite!

The Dagon Nightclub

     The Dagon Nightclub at the HP Lovecraft Hotel and Casino is probably not the best place to go for fun and excitement, unless your idea of fun and excitement is standing before a crude depiction of the god of deep sea groupers gone mad and murmuring chants from the Necronomicon in an effort to get it to come to life, or at least to bleed. The people who belong here all know who they are and there is a very good chance none of them are you. The lighting is ominous, the food is questionable and in many cases unidentifiable and the music is samples of distant cries of despair. You do not come here to find a date you come here to prove yourself unsuited as a dating partner. Like I say the people who come here all know who they are. Many of them own comic book stores and a lot of them live with their mothers and not all the mothers may still be alive. Like I say......well, just read the previous "like I say" and we'll both save each other a lot of time.

The Buffet at the HPL H&C

The HP Lovecraft buffet has been described by the charitable as "offputting" and by the rude as "stomach-turning to the point of suicide." Those who actually like it call it "Fa'Taghath Llarglephaggah wharph-than-uggh-fahtaghnah!" And I don't think you can do much better than that.
   The average visitor does not make it past the entrance doors, the walk-up to the place is decidedly
menacing with C'thulhu's groinal tentacles weaving up around the rocks and pillars. Those who do venture into the dining hall more often than not regret they did, the only item visible is what appears to be a deceased raw object on the floor of the room from which a smell like a dumpster made of aged
dog smegma wafts like a motionless hurricane against every surface in the room and coats every visible molecule with the aroma of gutted dairy cows. the buffet does not turn anything close to a profit it only seems to turn stomachs, but on the plus side the waitresses are all naked and attractive and will be happy to give you blowjobs. The Old Ones might be revolting but they are not prudes.

C'thulhu Pop-up

At the Lovecraft Hotel & Casino C'thulhu, like any good evil deity, has many manifestations and these can happen almost anywhere. Even in the bathroom. Yes, you can be in a stall at the Lovecraft, dropping a load of dung into the bowl and this is one of the main ways that you can summon his lordship of the desolation and the abomination. If the highly techichised bathroom detects that you are alone in there the lights go out, projectors go on, and lo, there will be the lord of all things pestilent will loom above you in roar and in anger, almost guaranteeing that if you entered the bathroom constipated you won't be leaving it that way.

HP Lovecraft Hotel And Casino

 

One of the recurring apparitions, or problems, whatever you want to call it, of staying at the HP Lovecraft Hotel And Casino is that the premises are the, naturally,  home grounds of C'thulhu. It's not as though you are not going to be seeing him if you stay there. You know that, right? C'thulhu is very large so he can't just be showing up in the hallways and lavatories of the place. So an underground arena has been excavated for him to run around in. You have to pay admission to go into the arena via the tunnels and coiling passage ways, steaming with foetor. And you have to pay a lot. Plus you will be in there alone. You need to really want to have the shit scared out of you to be in here. At some point you egress a tunnel and you enter a vast, mist-filled humid dirt-packed greenish-ichored-fog-choked empty space with sounds and echoes unearthly and hopeless and then rises up before you, in stench and the smells of rotted oblivion, the great god itself, C'thulhu, ready to reveal to you the reality of your suspicions that your life has meant absolutely nothing and that from this point on only your destruction has any significance to anything: the getting-rid-of you is what actually makes a difference to creation and gives it a justification to stay in existence; your absence gives the universe meaning. This is the conviction that somehow flows through you as if implanted there by some telepathic power of the great ugly squid-brained monstrosity that now monopolizes your vision and your life.
     No two people have the same inner experience from having C'thulhu in all his unaromatic baggage stare down at you as he looms continually larger before you as the two of you share existence alone for this little while. Some emerge having a new appreciation for things they before found annoying or unpleasant. Some on the other hand despair of ever experiencing happiness again. But all are changed. And of course change is good. Unless the change results in your death.

The New Treasure Island

The problem with the old Treasure Island was that the outdoor pirate brawl that occurred for the purpose - apparently - to make traffic on Los Vegas Blvd even worse, the problem was, well one of them, the problem was the women involved weren't naked.


                                 
This won't be the case with the new Treasure Island. Another repair job will be the combatants will only be women and they won't be fighting with each other; they will be fighting you. They will not want to kill you however, they would much prefer to capture you and take you somewhere, preferably on board where you will be taken to a cabin to be savaged in solitude OR you can remain on deck with the other naked men and women. These wanton pirate reprobates don't have any particular preferences for cocks or pussies either, all are welcome into their hands and mouths so don't say you weren't warned. Hey, they're pirates.

Fingerfucking Art

     Fingerfucking art is pathetically ignored in the history books. When it occurs at all it is relegated to "the history of pornography" sections of libraries and theses on the topic. This won't be the case in the New Las Vegas. There will be sculptures and paintings and performance artists a-plenty depicting this never-gets-old cornucopia of fun.  The hand down the pants of a twat-owner is one of the supreme sublime pleasures of humankind, exceeding wine tasting and cigar-sniffing for civilizing excellence. Ah, the wet, sloppy playground of female slittage. It never gets old even when it's old: teen ager and granma alike are qualifying candidates for finger-fondling fur-searchers. Fingerfucking induces a trancelike state in both participants that rave gatherings are in total denial about. Noise on a hot desert playa is a poor meditation substitute for relaxed and never-ending fingerfucking. A moment's contemplation on this produces instant universal agreement, as I am sure you will instantly and universally agree.

Biomech Hotel and Casino

   

     The New Las Vegas will be a great booster of the biomechanical arts and sciences: all within a sexually-oriented atmosphere, of course. The New Las Vegas , when it is not all about gambling, is all about getting laid. Exploring the future of coitus is as important as exploring the history of it. We can recreate the days of old with toga parties but it is also important to recreate the days ahead with biomechanical inspirtations devoted to arousing cocks to stiffen. Thus, things like what is pictured here will be dotting the interior landscapes of the Biomechanical Hotel and Casino. Lookit that ass. Does it matter that the rest of her has leaves and bark and root systems and the occasional bolt? No, I didn't think so.

Le Fuqhue du Le Fuqhue

   

     The Fuck Of The Fuck will be one of the new Cirque shows. It will have one theme, demons and angels fucking. Only the positions and the personnel will change. This show promises to break all attendance records for any Cirque show. The premise will be......well, who really gives a shit, the premise could be hopscotch, it won't affect the actual content of the show which will be something to make Zumanity look like The Wiggles.

The Ashen Hotel And Casino

   

     Let's not softpedal this, the Ashen H&C caters to people who just can't cant have things white enough. While even at the Ashen Hotel and Casino things might still not be white enough for hard core caucasian lovers, you cant get them for not trying. Now, I know the first thing you are asking is "Can  negroes go there and fuck white women?" Well, remember, while you might be a bigot, the people on the payroll in the New Las Vegas are not. And if they are, while they are on the clock they pretend they are not. I hope this answers your question.

Hi Jo: You Think Me Pdittee???

   The New Las Vegas has not forgotten the Chinese customer. Pictured is the colossal statue and fountain that invited you into the lush setting that is The Inscrutable, the lavish hotel and casino that celebrates all things Asian, excluding the Philippines. Why excluding the Philippines? Please.

     Holding her heavy bags of mother's milk and smiling benevolently down upon them even as you gape upwards at them, the statue of Huong, Goddess of Good Fortune - a goddess totally invented by the management and staff of the Inscrutable - Huong, the Goddess of Good Fortune, who is 20 feet tall, smiles down upon all with benevolence and a spirit of hope for you that your stay will be memorable in a good way.

The Cthulhu Show

                                               

This is a shot from one of the stage shows at the HP Lovecraft Hotel and Casino. It's not so much a show as it is a church. You sit in your seat and you gaze at slowly evolving depictions of the various Elder Gods and Old Ones etc etc in a quiet ambient setting that stimulates quiet contemplation with music that is appropriate to contemplating the loss of your mind and faculties and the inevitable madness that ends in suicide when the time comes for you know who's to return and claim his dominion over life by exterminating it. Granted it's not a show for everyone. The proper audience members all know who they are. Naked nubiles in submissive worshipful attitudes will be prominent. So don't worry a bit about that.

The Benign Sarkovsky Brother

   The benign member of the Sarkovsky clan doesn't fuck the visitors for pay, he has his own show. He doesn't do much, he just lays there with a boner and select, prime, white-skinned gorgeous fodder climb aboard daily and nightly depending on scheduling and they slide up and down Garn's cock. Garn's ghostlike cement-dust skin color is toned down with spray tan so that the porcelain skins of his riders will be more visible by contrast. There are no seats for these performances, audiences are all on their feet and positioned at some acceptable viewing angle near the performance, and masturbating by the men - and the women for that matter - is not only not forbidden it is graciously encouraged. The reckless and inconsiderate ejaculating of semen however is dealt with harshly. There is none of this Monica Lewinsky nonsense tolerated. Sperm onto your own clothing not onto someone else's. This is the New Las Vegas not the new your house or some other dirty place.

The Aryan Hotel And Casino

   All the female personnel at the Aryan Hotel and Casino look like this. The Aryan H and C don't actually give a shit about what you think about racial harmony: if you are not glowing white with caucasian snow-like skin cells on your bodily surface and you are a female you are not going to get a job at the AH and C. If you are a man you can look a lot ruddier. But you better have well defined Norwegian Viking facial features. The Aryan is dedicated and devoted to white racism. You can include supremacism if you want but they don't actually proclaim that. Their opinion - and mine - is that you don't really have to proclaim it: that everyone knows it instinctively; that it is ingrained into the human DNA: "whitey is superior." No one would argue this. Now, if you are a guest at the Aryan - you don't have to be Aryan. The New Las Vegas is not about discrimination. It's about profit. When it comes to accepting the customer's money, everybody's is green. "Nigger 20's spend just as good as honky or chink or slope or moolie 20's." Or so says Rudy the manager.
    Aryan superiority is not overtly expressed at the Aryan. Pure white women are merely displayed for the sake of displaying them, and if you think your little ching-chang shuffling tiny-footed slant-eyed gal or your hottentot-assed 300 pound Ugandan gal is one-up on the white chick goddesses when it comes to good looks, hey, that's entirely your perogative. But be prepared to be quietly laughed at for your stupidity. But your money will be accepted. Just not your advice about anything. Because obviously you can't think. According to Rudy.

The New Billboards

   This is one of the new billboards in the New Las Vegas. Courtesy of one of the artists on Deviantart. If you don't know what Deviantart is and you are not interested enough to research it via a computer search then you  don't need me to tell you what it is. Besides, it's off the point. And we try and stay focused here. So like I say this is an example of one of the billboards in the New Las Vegas. And by one of the new billboards I do not mean that this image is on a billboard. No, this is the billboard. It's an erected construction itself. The ad is on the back of the torso or on the front of the torso between the tits and pussy. You have to almost get out of your car to see what is on the ad if the billboard is by the roadside, but who would have a problem with that? Well, a faggot would. Maybe. To answer the question. Even though it was rhetorical. Buttcheeks, if not the coin of the realm in the New Las Vegas, are certainly what is utilized the most - at least in publicity and advertising and propaganda, to get the coin of the realm out of your pocket and into the pocket of the New Las Vegas entrepreneur and businessman.

Stage Shows

   Stage shows in the New Las Vegas come in one variety: something fucking something else.  The one depicted here is one of the ones that is performed daily in the fixtures section of the New Las Vegas JC Pennys where you don't have to test the beds personally, you can watch others test them for you while they are getting laid besides. As you can see here the lighting and costuming - the costuming being the stockings and head-thing on the human female - are subtle and alluring and not at all like the customary lighting and decor arrangements of the usual JC Pennys. Watching voluptuous human females naked except for white stockings get laid never gets old even when they are getting laid by  cemetery ghouls devoid of blood. He is doing her the courtesy of licking her nipples and not eating them and that alone is something that tends to win you over to his side of the rooting section. If you buy the bed these two usually don't come home with you. Usually.

The New Cirque

      There's circus acts and then there's this one. Who in their right mind would not applaud this. You don't return home from a Cirque do Soleil performance and immediately go to the liquor cabinet, make yourself a drink and then go sit down on the couch and stare at the wall across the room, slowly sipping and relentlessly replaying inside your head what you just came home from. But you do when you see this stunt performed. Oh yes you do, that is for sure. The double penis naked handstand. You don't know who to applaud the hardest, the men with the support boners or the woman using them as newly-configured parallel bars. While exposing her vagina. You are so overwhelmed with amazement that you are almost tempted to overlook the fact that one of the men is a negro. Yes, the amazements just keep coming.

The New Las Vegas Wax Museum

   The wax museum in the New Las Vegas is a bit different from the other ones in existence. Everyone is naked. This here is a depiction of Jeri Ryan as Seven of Nine. As you can see, it rocks. Most wax museums you want to leave the instant you realize you have made a mammoth mistake. Which realization comes as soon as you enter the wax museum. And after you have paid the admission price. Which is not refundable. This wax museum however….no way you are going to want to leave. John Hamm will be there, naked as pie, with a boner the size of a box car. Who is going to want to walk out on that. Not me. And I'm not even gay. The stars will be fighting each other for the chance to be in this wax museum because all their pathetic body parts will be enlarged or proportioned to the way they want their fans to imagine that they actually look. When they actually don't. Plus they have lots of wiggle room for plausible denial. Which no one would ever question. But why would they want to plausably deny awesomeness? I mean, do you think Jeri Ryan really looks like this naked? She would kill everyone in Scranton to look like this if the outcome of looking like this was guaranteed. But she doesn't have to do that now. She can look like this without ever even entering Scranton. I mean, talk about a win-win: you get to look like this; AND you don't have to go to Scranton. Forget about murdering everyone. Yeah: the New Las Vegas wax museum. I already have my tickets.

The Twilek Bar

   Twileks seem to be the species of choice in the Star Wars universe, probably because they all like wearing little or no clothing. This coupled with a fearless attitude regarding stalkers - and they have to have more than their share of those - naturally makes them popular with us lesser, inferior species. Twilek hotties have no problem with pick-up lines or even overt attempts at making a pass or even sudden groping attacks. The game is a fifty-fifty proposition, they are as apt to encourage you as they are apt to put one of their fists all the way through your sternum and out your back. It all depends on how they feel about you feeling them up. You might be an arousing sort of dude - or gal - or you might remind them of daddy who raped them daily as infants. I suppose you could ask beforehand: "Um, can I check out your pussy with my fingers?" The reaction odds remain the same: 50-50 that you will live through it and 50-50 that you won't. The good part is that if you live through it it means you are going to get laid and not laid-out.

Underwear Wearing Strongly Discouraged

   Unless you are leaking ebola from your cock or twat, the wearing of underwear - at least among the women - is discouraged. Isn't life automatically better when you can actually see the twat of the hot chick in the tight skirt? Of course. I mean that's the main attraction any woman has to offer and it's basically the only attraction, let's face it, so why not drag the goods out into the open so that the people with cocks can decide if their semen is attracted to it. That's right, there is no reason not to. Nuff said! Thank you!