Day 5 8 December 1013 hrs.

Oh sweet sweet Hypnos. How your beckon keeps me burrowed fully into your ample pillowy bosom, I shall never know. Alas, the chains are tenuous and can be easily broken, as was the case this morning when the vibrate function of my phone was going into overtime as it faced multiple salvos from Tex. Unlike some of the other pseudonyms presented towards yourself in this irregularly paced block of text, the nomenclature of Tex is stunningly easy to piece together. He's a guy from Texas that likes to drink. And he has an urgent need to get away from his wife.

We meet up at Hash House. This particular location has not been featured on Man Vs. Food, but if Adam Richman didn't at least have a bit of upchuck in the back of his throat after eating here, he's throwing more kayfabe towards the audience than Shawn Michaels throwing a sharpshooter into Bret Hart's limp torso at 1997's Survivor Series. My bloody mary had two, count 'em two, full slices of bacon in it. And the biscuits and gravy? I had to chuckle when the waitress offered my a to-go box. No thank you. I already felt a strangely familiar tingling sensation on my left side. A gallon of gravy wouldn't do that any good.

After noshing, we headed in the direction of Bally's, where we encountered a lone Elvis impersonator. Tex tried to convince him to play Raining Blood by Slayer, to no avail.

At his point, Tex got a call from a very angry better half, so he had to leave, lest his next call would be to a divorce lawyer. In the end, that's probably a good thing, because my liver needed a little rest.

I decided to do a touristy thing and went around the Forum Shoppes in Caesar's Palace to take a few pictures. The Forum Shoppes is typical overblown Vegas, with replicas of classic architecture and statues accentuated by neon signs for places like The Cheesecake Factory. I wandered around for a while, looking at things I would never buy. A tinge of depression began to set in, so I looked to drown it via a slushy beverage from Fat Tuesday.

I went over the Bellagio. The joyous nature of the holiday display in the conservatory didn't do much to uplift my spirits. It was at this point, mentally and physically, that I was done with Vegas for this trip. Though I had a lot of fun, the city had chewed me up and spit me out. Some months later, I'm sure the jones to come into the fray would return, but for now, I was content to watch bad afternoon basic cable TV and nap in my room until taking a cab to the airport, when an unremarkable Sun Country flight would bring me back to the frozen plains of Minneapolis.

Day 1 / Day 2 / Day 3 / Day 4

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