I am a week behind on my posts, so I will amend that now.

The Adventures of DJ Gold and El Train finally culminated to our arrival in Las Vegas on July 4^th. As much as we were looking forward to fireworks, we did not get to see them. But we sure as hell heard them. I hope David caught a glimpse from the rooftops.

This should give you a good idea of what Las Vegas stands for as soon as you enter the Strip from the north:

One, for a cheap, quick divorce, and the second, to actually use your life for what it’s worth.

Another revelation from my trip: the farther west I got, the more teenage moms I saw.

It was a shame that I had a walked on a sprain ankle for the whole trip, it was not, however, a shame that I got to walk with a cane I bought in New Orleans for a day.

Before

After

Way after

Later in my journey, I saw that Wayne Brady has finally gone Blue. Who’d a thought his appearance on Chappelle’s Show would actually corrupt him so?

"Is Wayne Brady gonna have to choke a bitch?"

I did see something I always wanted to: a midget Elvis with a python, who was being promoted by an announcer behind him for the whole block to here.

The Mirage was one of my favorite places. Why? Take a look at the picture below:

Look how low those walls go!

But, I’m must apologize, Mirage.  Now I’mma let you finish, but Caesar’s Palace has the nicest smelling bathrooms of ALL TIME.

The Houdini magic store is playing the extended version of “Whoop There It Is.”

I did see a signed vinyl of Are You Experienced? In a collectible shop. Photography was not allowed, but take a look anyway.

But this begs the question: Who is Bill?

On my last night, I finally learned how to play Blackjack. I started with single-deck. The dealer was kind enough to show me the basics (and also there was barely anybody in the place, so she had time to kill) and I played for about an hour. And, of course, the question that I know is on all your minds: I did not win any money. I lost about twenty-five bucks, but I extended my play for a while (I think) until I got a series of losing hands all in a role.

I was glad I was finally on my way out of Vegas. DJ Gold was on his way back home, and I was looking towards California. Truly, I enjoyed my time up and down the Strip. There’s a billion characters to laugh at, there never seems enough time to explore the palaces that are the Strip’s hotels, and of course, do all the things that happens only in Vegas. Amidst all that, however, my skin just couldn’t take any more than two weeks I had spent in the desert. I was on my way, at long last, to California. They only thing standing in my way: Death Valley.

It’s been a long and very, very eventful past week. As I headed into New Mexico, I was joined by one of my dear old friends, David Goldman, He came in on a Tuesday. Our goal? Las Vegas on Sunday.

DJ Gold getting off the smallest plane I have ever seen. Notice the full barf bag. Can't blame him.

The first stop for us was the Carlsbad Caverns National Park. The place is really difficult to put into words. The following statement can summarize my experiences in the caverns: I was reminded of Batman everywhere. Bad jokes aside, the caverns are beyond incredible. One night, we waited until sundown to watch tens of thousands of bats spew from the entrance of one of the caves to start their hunt for insects, and the next day we hiked the 750+ feet underground into the bats’ home. It was a cool 56 degrees inside, and stretched for miles and miles.  My shitty camera’s photos simply cannot do the experience justice, but here is a taste of what it was like:

Imagine running around this for a few hours, except not being able to touch anything.

We also encountered this on the inside and found it hilarious:

Our next adventure took us to Roswell, New Mexico on Wednesday. Yes, that Roswell. No, no, NO!! Not the crap WB teen show. The place with all the alien lore from back in the day. With the guys in suits. Yeah, now you got it.

By sheer luck, we were passing through for the start of the annual International UFO Festival. David and I were curious enough, so we stayed for the first day of the festival. We passed through the International UFO Museum, much of which appeared to be made by a sixth grader the night before a project deadline.

Can you spot the typo within this paragraph? No? Well, take confidence in the Dave Grohl reference instead.

The entire town, which was primarily one main street (incidentally enough named Main Street), was dedicated to alien culture. Even McDonald’s and, for the audacious, Arby’s.

No one enjoys Roswell more than Ronald. No one. Go ahead- challenge him. You'll lose.

Some sort of alien abduction/ejaculation hybrid technique.

After all the hullabaloo, we got snow cones. They were out-of-this-world.

I will go castrate myself for that one.

Bearing Las Vegas in mind, we had to either head west or north. We chose north, driving through Santa Fe to end up in Taos, New Mexico on Thursday.

Since November 2009, I have been carrying a picture of the Rio Grande in my pocket. One of my biggest goals for this trip was to camp next to the majestic river. In Taos, I got my wish.

We set up our tent, cooked burgers and s’mores, and drank some classic Jack Daniels. We spent the nigh under a blanket of thousands of stars, nestled deep within the river valley between two giant mountain ranges, and conversed for hours. The night was far too short. My first time camping went well, with big thanks to David for quelling my nerves and being quite proficient with sticks and lighters.

Let's try one more once.

After camping, we realized we had only a few days to get to Vegas. We had to head west. So, we hopped on Route 66 and had our kicks. Yes, I said it.

This was a nice welcome for us.

We posted up the first night in Holbrook, Arizona. Pizza Hut was eaten. Plans were discussed. The plan unfolded. Saturday’s first stop: Petrified Forest National Park. This was really quite a treat. It is the best-preserved natural prehistoric site on the planet. And it just happens to be in our backyard. We hiked into a canyon under a blue sky and looked at all the petrified wood, which was much heavier now. Sadly, all that remains of these trees are in their petrified form: they are now extinct. The colors in the park were amazing. Here’s a sample:

Here's my best attempt at being the Captain. It did not go well, as immediately after this photo my hat was blown into the valley below by a mighty gust of wind.

Bacon? No. That's petrified wood, silly.

As we continued westward down I-40/Route 66, with our new goal being the Grand Canyon, we just so happened to pass by the largest, and also best preserved, meteor crater in the world.

It's huge. Oh, and there was the meteor crater.

We continued on and made the Grand Canyon by sundown. Check it:

Aww.

On Sunday, we woke up on a ranch next to some horses.

The white one was a jerk.

We ventured back to the canyon for a short hike into the depths of the canyon. Feeling sad about my wind-blown Jimi Hendrix hat, I donned something new.

On the way down, I rolled my ankle and busted my shit. Behold:

We pushed our way through to Las Vegas on the 4th of July and made it. I will share the details of that stay in the following post. But for now, here is proof that I am genuine:

I don’t care what anyone says. Texas is full of fat women with dyed blonde hair and construction. Houston may be the worst city on Earth, outside of Detroit.

Austin was a neat town. I found an A&W restaurant, and the tap root beer was ace.

So necessary.

I stayed at a hostel just south of the river. I met some cool kids from around the world there, and one night we headed down to 6th Street. Shenanigans abound.

Israeli Soldier, cool Aussie

6th Street madness.

There’s another story that happened here, which I will reveal at a later date.

The next night, I made it to a Super Smash Bros. Brawl tournament at a newly opened Play ‘N Trade. Little did I know when I entered, most of these guys knew each other and traveled around the state playing in various tournaments. I did pretty well. I made it to the third round and lost to one of the veterans, but he was real cool because he lent me his controller. And, I must say, it was a wicked close match between his Metaknight and my Snake. It was double elimination, so I was sent to the loser’s bracket, which I eventually won, and worked my way back into the overall semifinals. Another player’s Snake snakedashed the shit out of my Snake, so I was done for.

Hither, Navi. Hither.

My last stop in Austin was their botanic gardens. Unsurprisingly, they had an abundance of cacti on display. Here’s something a bit prettier:

I continued my travels through Texas and posted up in a town called Junction. On the way there, the brilliant intellect was revealed to me through this simple road sign:

This was also "lol" inducing.

I was finally done with Texas. I took my world tour to New Mexico, where I saw some things I had never seen before.

Cut like a buffalo.

So far, I am enjoying New Mexico. I’ve been to the Carlsbad Caverns (twice), picked up DJ Grand, and am fully on my way to destroying the state’s sewer system, one toilet at a time.

Another victim of my Tex Mex onslaught clogged to the rim.

What does this sedimentary formation look like to you?

As you can see, I am having a phenomenal time in the Chihuahuan Desert.

I was originally going to call this post Cabo Bob vs. Chipotlé. That idea changed soon after. I’ll tell you why.

I rolled over to neighborhood Wal-Mart today because my buddy Eric wanted me to pick up a certain Transformer for him that is only sold in Texas. Sadly for him, they did not have it. I also wanted to find some din din. Authentic din din.

Their Wal Marts are the natural color of the corporation: devil red.

After minutes of searching in despair, I found what I was looking for on the other side of the Wal Mart parking lot: Cabo Bob’s.

Cabo Bob’s looked harmless enough on the outside. On the inside, though, I was surprised, for they made their tortillas ON FUCKING SITE. The man grabbed a wad of dough and created a tortilla right before my eyes.

Burrito presser. You saw it here first.

When it was all done, my cheddar tortilla burrito (you had four choices) was full of white rice, lettuce, chicken, onion, sour cream queso, mozzarella cheese, salsa, and lime. The steamy burrito was large enough to rival Chipotlé’s. It tasted unbelievable. I don’t think I’ve ever had the right to use the word “zesty” until now. It was an incredible experience. I didn’t care how long I sat there watching the shitty Mets play on the TV. I savored every bite of it.

Chipotlé has stiff competition, indeed.

Twenty-three minutes later, I found myself in a different area of Cabo Bob’s. Gripping the handicap railing and struggling for balance on the toilet seat in the bathroom, I was contending against the relentless fury that Cabo Bob had dealt upon me.

Curse you, Cabo Bob. My colon will never be the same.

I’ll be back tomorrow.