I have a reputation in the industry for being bitter, angry & hateful. There are times when it’s well-earned, but I feel that the perception is somewhat exaggerated. I figured out this afternoon that a lot of people see me that way because they largely encounter me only in Las Vegas… and here are few places on Earth that engender bitterness, anger & hate in me like Las Vegas.

Often, people ask what it is that I hate about Vegas so much, and the simple answer is everything. I’m not being facetious or inflammatory; I cannot think of a single good thing about this city. I’m here with The Unicorn this year, which takes the edge off pretty significantly, but I still despise everything outside our room. The disdain is so pervasive, I can’t even decide where to start.

Driving here is a nightmare. Whatever shitty excuse they have for civic engineers have decided the best way to keep traffic moving is to make it utterly impossible to get from Point A to Point B following anything like a straight route. Need to get from the airport to the Hard Rock? Easy! Just take the side road through the college and the rest is all illegal left turns because we decided Paradise Road should be one way for a mile for no discernible reason. Need to get from the freeway to the Sands Expo? Easy! Just get off at Spring Mountain and follow the access road through the shopping center parking lot until you can make an illegal U-turn to head East!

What a bunch of fucking idiots. This is the only town I’ve ever been in where two miles as the crow flies means ten miles on the ground.

Not that anywhere in Las Vegas is that exciting to get to in the first place. Everyone seems to agree that the Strip and its surrounds is a soulless gate of Hell; a tasteless, heartless, artless festival of bland, tedious greed hidden behind a flashy, mind-numbing facade of fake glitz, garishness and mock-indulgence. And yet, people flock to it of their own free will. The Strip is the reality television of municipalities. A Financial Engine Devoid of Merit. And I despise every. Single. Thing. About it.

“Oh, but it’s different when you get away from the strip.” Different, yes, but just as bad. Get out into North Vegas, or head East from the Strip and you find yourself in my old hometown. A land of strip malls, pawn shops, liquor stores and chain restaurants, all made from brown brick, and every bit as soul-crushing as the strip. It’s just Arizona Light.

Then there are the people. I’ve heard complaints for decades about how fake L.A. makes you. We’re all bullshit artists. Well try Las Vegas, motherfucker. The locals here are nothing but shitfaced, cigarette-reeking con-artists who think they deserve a fucking tip for simply existing, and you’re a piece of shit if you don’t roll over. Every cocksucker here expects a handout. Basically, they’re homeless people with uniforms.

And the tourists are worse. The fattest and most ignorant core of fat, ignorant America come to wallow in institutionalized sin. “We don’t need t’go ta Paris, they got an Eiffel Tower right here just as good as the real thang! Better, even, ‘cuz this one’s in Muricah!” Las Vegas is everything that is wrong with this country distilled to its essence, fermented, and squirted out into the desert like a lump of shit to attract flies in overstuffed stretchpants.

Where these flies get the money, I’ll never know. Farm subsidies must pay well because this town is more expensive than drugs. The Vegas Visitor’s Bureau should issue lube when you drive in, because everything here is now geared to fuck you right in the ass. Once upon a time, they were content to take your money gambling, in exchange for which you got decent cheap food and lodging. Those days are OVER. Now, it’s like living in Disneyland.

They’ll give you the lube. But there’s a $150 Resort Fee to use it.

This is my 24th AVN show, and the road of coping with Vegas has led only uphill. So if you see me in the hallway of the giant, overstuffed ashtray know as the Hard Rock Hotel, and I look a little surly, understand that it’s really not me. It’s Vegas, baby. Vegas.

Whatcha think?

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