Dear Planet Earth,
Greetings from my new digs, room 21014 of the luxurious Bellagio Hotel and Casino. Sneaking into one of the Strip’s most high-end resorts is really only one immoral step above looting a supermarket and other petty crimes (or it would be if the words “petty” and “crime” had the same meaning they had one month ago). In our pre-post-apocalyptic world, stealing a hotel room is just as easy as picking up one of the many room cards from the lobby floor, where countless tourists hastily discarded them in their rush to flee whatever it is we’re supposed to be fleeing.
You’d never know that people are freaking out about an invasion while inside this fully-furnished-room-service-included bubble. The electricity, water shows, and spa are all up and running; the front desk even still has a cute girl who doesn’t seem to mind freeloading teenage boys milking global catastrophes for everything they’re worth.
And you can stay this happy and stupid as long as you don’t look out your window.
The dust is still everywhere from the quake and it’s crazy to see not a single car on a stretch of road internationally famous for having bumper to bumper traffic 24 hours a day. The real mystery of this picture is whatever that object is between Planet Hollywood and Paris. It looks to be about two miles away from the strip and it is definitely not any building I’ve seen in the city before. My crummy camera phone doesn’t project the whole alien spaceship vibe I get when looking at the real thing.
Whatever. I’m still giddy, I’m on a high. I feel like I could steal a Ferrari.