The Biggest Little Post on the Internet!

I went to Vegas this past weekend and I saw midgets. I didn't just see a midget. I saw many midgets. I realize that using the m-word to refer to them is rude, but they can't read anyway, so they'll never know what I'm saying about them.

First, I saw one--and I wish I would have taken a picture because it sounds made up--dressed like a leprechaun. He had a microphone and was trying to get people to go into O'Shea's casino on the strip. Needless to say, I went the fuck in. I couldn't have been more in that place. Sadly, he was the only one there. He was standing in the sun, out front of the casino and here's a little bit of trivia I learned: midgets don't have shadows.

Then I saw a gaggle of midgets that night. A herd. A flock. A pride. A murder. A den. A fucking bunch. And, to make this sighting even better, I saw them at the top of the Stratosphere. For those who don't know, the Stratosphere is this giant tower thing that's 108 stories high where you go to ride rides and pretend you're not scared out of your fucking mind. 108 stories! To the midgets that's like 216 floors up. If one of them fell off the top, they would burn up in the atmosphere before hitting the ground.

There were five of them and they were all old, which is another weird thing since I was taught that once midgets hit 30 years old, they start regressing in age back until they don't exist anymore. My parents really shouldn't have let Professor Hate-Tank the Bearded Prophet tutor me until I was 16. I always found it strange that I had to meet him "by the beef jerky in the 7-11" for class.