Tylester, a musing

smelly willow tree
why do you smell like 'da vag'?
why can't I quit you?

So Tylester is finally back from Vegas, and he does not look like he had done what I assumed he had, as I had pictured him in a seedy motel room, maybe at the Howard Johnson somewhere way off the strip, unable to afford the good looking hookers after losing his winnings in what he thought was a slot machine but was actually a glory hole, maybe crying softly as he tickled his own stomach with a feather that had come out of his busted pillow, trying to get his green thong to rise for the 50 something hooker desperately trying to make herself look younger and hotter by hiding the nicotine patches, maybe trying to dig her granny panties out of her sagging crack as she throws powder into her armpits every time his back turns, hoping he will not throw up like the last john did when the hair on her legs burns the flesh on his thighs by simple friction alone.

I wonder, when he was at the blackjack tables, did he inform the dealer "I'm a guy" indignantly? Did he tell the hotel clerk "I'm so tired" as he raptor walked up to his room, desperately trying to ignore the stench of failure that pervades that toilet brush of a city like a foul plague hell bent on destruction of all we hold dear in a civil and just society?

Did he see Tom Jones, and think about me? Or even better, Richard Cheese? Did he stop by a Korean restaurant and order kim chi, or even better Taco Bell and ask for fermented tacos in order to get that home-y feeling back?

Did he tell a random homeless person, maybe the guy urinating in the windows he had foolishly left open on his rental car, a "Karawte Man" diatribe, excitedly hopping from foot to foot while wearing a pair of silk burgundy boxer shorts?

Did he look up Grover Pedophile Reeves, maybe feeling a little sad because Sigfried did not show up yet again, and Roy without him was like buying video games for a console you don't own? Did he, like I found out about Smeagol this weekend, lie to his family about paying off a 1992 Honda Prelude and steal his little brother's computer to pawn to make another payment on it? Did he go to sleep cockroach style in a Burger King and then go to the casino with the money he found in his shoes he had put on top of the table? Did he watch the Chief's game, and maybe for just an instant realize that Smeagol's failure can follow you, no matter how far from Kansas City you should happen to get, and realize he was finally, completely doomed?

Cause that's what I did when I went to Vegas.