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Photo: Elvis is Dead Again by mygothlaundry

Saturday night I went to a party at a hill-top home overlooking the Temecula wine country and witnessed the second coming of Elvis.

His business card said, “The Best Elvis Impersonator in Vegas!” but, I think it should’ve read, “The LOUDEST Elvis Impersonator in Vegas.”

Anyway, he didn’t like me—most likely because I was sitting at a table with five gorgeous women that, admittedly, I had no business being in the same area code with (In reality I only knew one of them and I’m pretty sure she asked me to sit down in order to keep the hovering comic book guy with two plates of prime rib from squeezing into the seat). Later on, after the girls were swooning to his act, Elvis determined I wasn’t much of a threat and lightened up a bit.

Although he was taking requests from the audience, he refused to do any songs other than those specifically performed by Elvis Presley. I twice called-out, “Do White Punks on Dope!” which got a few laughs but, of course, he couldn’t do it; he just glanced at the half-empty beer bottle in front of me and I assume thought I was drunk (I wasn’t).

What I want to know is: why can’t these guys do Elvis’ songs without having to dress up in a starched white jumpsuit festooned with plastic rhinestones and a collar as tall as an airport control tower?

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate Elvis or his music, but probably due to my youth (Ha-ha!), I’ve never really “got” the whole Legend of Elvis thing. In fact, even if the REAL Elvis showed up, aside from the fact that he would be a zombie, I wouldn’t be too impressed.

After the show, he came over and talked to the girls; they took pictures with him and giggled. He asked if I wanted to take my picture with him; I said no because “everyone knows cameras capture your soul.” I was joking, of course, but he looked at me like he thought I was serious. I got a good laugh out of it.

What really bothers me about Elvis Impersonators is that there are just too many of them—especially in Vegas. Just try to order take-out Chinese food on the strip without a Chinese Elvis taking your order. Why Elvis? Why not other, more interesting celebrities? You never walk into a Las Vegas grocery store and see people pushing shopping carts dressed as, say, Batman, or Hitler.

Most Elvis impersonators I’ve seen really get into the character. So much so that it’s scary. I wonder what would happen if you secretly hired two Elvis impersonators to do the same show at the same time. You could hand them chains and let them go at each other until one is a bloody heap on the floor. Now, that would be a show worth watching!

My greatest fear is that all these Elvis impersonators will one day band together and overthrow the state of Nevada—then, who knows, maybe even the entire country! What if, in order to appease our Elvis overlords, we were forced to wear jumpsuits and take “lip-snarl” lessons? Women would forever be addressed as, “momma-baby,” and it would be proper etiquette to always end every conversation with, “Thank you, thankyouverymuch.”

On the bright side, while I was online researching Elvis impersonators, I discovered that there are a growing number of Michael Jackson impersonators. Maybe the future will bring an apocalyptic showdown between the Elvis and Jackson clans and they will destroy each other. Wouldn’t that be great!

You can help reduce the overpopulation of Elvis impersonators by voting for this post at Humor-Blogs.com

For those of you that have never had the pleasure of getting “Rick Rolled,” I will briefly explain. In the original version, you would read a forum post, email, or article on a social network which had a link to something of extreme interest to you such as an adult-oriented video featuring Brittney Spears and Paris Hilton spanking each other with fully-marinated barbeque brushes.

However, when you clicked the link, you were fed a script which hijacked your browser, reduced it to YouTube Size, and had it jump around your screen playing this 1980’s video of Rick Astley performing “Never Gonna Give You Up” at full volume.

At one point the video would stop jumping around but you still couldn’t close it because when you tried it would launch a series of never-ending message boxes. Every time you closed one, a new one would open—and remember, to add to the frustration, the whole time all this is going on THE BLASTED SONG KEEPS PLAYING!

So, anyway, this morning I got Rick Rolled again (but no nasty script involved). Why it happened though requires a little bit of explanation: Earlier this month my brother Raymond and I took a week’s vacation in Orlando Florida. We visited Walt Disney World, Universal Theme Parks and a few other minor attractions. We took several gigabytes of photos and downloaded them all on to his notebook computer’s hard-drive.

When we returned to California and back to his apartment, I asked if he could quickly burn them onto a DVD so I could take them home with me and utilize them in some blog posts. Unfortunately, he was out of blank DVD’s so he promised to mail me one in a few days. So far, I haven’t seen it (which is why I haven’t written about our trip yet).

Back to this morning: I get up at about 5:00 a. m., put on coffee and check my email. Lo and behold there is an email from Raymond with a link to “all our Florida photos.”

The link led to this YouTube video:

Good one Raymond! Now send me the photos!

Do you cut the red wire, or the blue wire? Come on, the clock is ticking… 0:31… 0:30… 0:29… LESS THAN THIRTY SECONDS! As the senior bomb diffuser in the area, the Sheriffs Department of Burnt Toast, Wisconsin has called you in to save the city. So, which is it? The red one, or the blue one? You’ve diffused dozens of devices similar to this one, but this time, you have a happy little tune entitled, It’s a Small World, After All…, stuck in your head and it’s messing with your brain. Why, oh, why did you insist on diffusing an explosive device without wearing the proper protective gear!

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