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Friday, August 13, 2010

Things I Hate, vol 3

Behold: Atlantic City. I’ve been compelled to visit this sparkling jewel on several business trips. While Atlantic City has one or two redeeming qualities, overall I find it to be an armpit. I’m sure I’ve just lost all of my New Jersey audience, but come on, guys…you have billboards on the way in to town that say “New Jersey Doesn’t Stink”. Despite the massive billboard, at time of writing they had a whopping 6800 web hits. And while that makes me jealous, it’s time to try setting the bar a wee bit higher than "It doesn't stink", gang. (Especially given the pervasive odor of gullshit and sweatyballsack.)

To be fair, the City has been trying to improve itself, adding more casinos and a new shopping center…and the Boardwalk is truly a classic. Also, the place is Mecca for Monopoly fans. But the shine ends at the edge of the apple. I guess it’s an armpit with some deodorant on.

Look to me. Now look at the Casinos. Now back to me. Now to the pawn shop and cash for gold emporium. I’m riding a horse backwards to the Boardwalk. Because I can.

I recently visited the Armpit of America again for business. I stayed at the Sheraton, famous for its Miss America displays. I noticed with my amazing eagle like vision, walking down the sidewalk, they have a great sign in the window which says…I shit you not…”Coming Soon, another Exciting Window Display!” Seriously, guys, let’s try generating excitement for something exciting, OK? That’s akin to someone holding up a notebook and cheering “Look! PAPER!!!!” I would cheer them on if they were 4, knowing they were one of Jerry’s kids…but you’re a supposedly 4 star hotel…can we get off the short bus?

A walk from the Convention Center to the Boardwalk is such a walk on the wildside that I’m surprised Marky Mark hasn’t done a cover of it. I’m talking Bear Grylls vs the 5 dollar hooker wild. I wanted a shot of penicillin just to go back to my hotel.

Speaking of hookers and penicillin, it’s worth noting that I’ve traveled the highways and byways of this planet, not only in sales but in the fucking military, and to this day the only place I’ve ever been propositioned by a hooker is in the shadows of Atlantic City. It also bears mentioning that the difference between Vegas hookers and Atlantic City hookers is the difference between “living the dream” and “Nightmare on Elm Street”. It would be safer to bang a pissed off badger with the clap. And as I picture that, I think it would be more arousing, too.

Walking through an Atlantic City casino is a great way to build your self esteem, as well. There are more mutants in sight than at Professor X’s School for the Gifted, but with 99% less superpowers. I did in fact see the Blob at one of the buffets, though, so there’s that. There’s so much influence from Snookie and the gang that the Situation has become a Crisis.

Bottom line, come to Atlantic City for the Boardwalk and the history. Enjoy it. Then get the fuck out as fast as you can. I salute you, Atlantic City. But I salute you with one finger. Guess which one. May you fill your empty casino and graduate from armpit to something far better…perhaps a wenis?
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