Thought Motel
I've got this hotel in my mind, where thoughts check in, but they don't check out
It's a Thought Motel, not sponsored by Raid™, but based on the commercials of yesteryear
Which reminds me of that time that Axl Rose of Guns 'n' Roses got in so much trouble for wearing that shirt that said 'Aids: Kills Fags Dead'
And, even at that time, the story made me wonder about celebrity and how much of being a celebrity relies on being involved in a scandal
Even when I was watching the O.J. Simpson trial, I had a sense of unreality about the whole thing, like the whole court room was staged
There's a fuzzy line between reality and celebrity, though the two have very little to do with each other
The two worlds still have to interact... when I lived in Hollywood, B movie stars were a dime a dozen, yet they still stood apart, aloof
There goes that thought, into the Thought Motel... thoughts check in, but they don't check out
Which reminds me... what happened to the threat of nuclear war? It used to be such a big deal, now it's just another abstract thought
The reason I thought that was because of the alteration I made on the Raid™ slogan
And, how my biology teacher used to ramble on and on about how the roaches were going to not only survive, but proliferate after the nuclear war
That's exactly how he put it too, "after the nuclear war", as if it were just a matter of days before the first bombs dropped
I used to wake up at night thinking I heard that soft whistle that comes right before the innevitable 50 megaton nuclear explosion
I'd stay awake straining to hear it, I just knew that it was there, but it never came... must have been the wind, I guess
The funny thing is, now I kill roaches for a living, and let me tell you, they're not that hard to kill
My coworker picked up a big fat Brown-Banded Cockroach the other day and just let loose with the poison spray
We were both laughing at the way that it jerked and spasmed, but really, I was just relieved that I outlived that one, and the bomb never dropped all those nights ago
There goes another one, Thought Motel... thoughts check in, but they don't check out
You know, I think I know where my Thought Motel is, it's the piece of paper I normally write on
At least, when I hand write my thoughts, because it's got lines which hold up stories, just like the many stories of the gilded hotels on the Vegas strip
And, for all of their gilding, you just know that they're chuck full of roaches, just look at all of the pest control trucks that there are
Where do you think all of the pests are that they're controlling, they're not all in houses, let me assure you
Vegas is glitz and glam, just like Hollywood was back in the day, and it's going through the exact same kind of decay
Luckily, there's not enough water in the desert to speed up the process
Isn't it ironic that the most bustling city in Nevada, in the middle of the desert, is powered by water?
Which, of course, attracts the roaches, which allows there to be as many pest control companies as there are
Which is why that thought just checked into the Thought Motel, where thoughts check in, but they don't check out
Which reminds me, I think that celebrities are like sugar to the masses, sweet to look upon, but bad for your teeth
Then again, roaches like sugar, and they cause rot... which, in effect, means that in some way, sweet things cause rot
I suppose that that makes sense, at least as much sense as this piece does
I don't know if the bomb will ever drop, but I know that unless we stop feeding the roaches, no matter what kind they happen to be, literal or metaphorical
They will breed in our lives, our homes, and our minds until everything around us will decay into memory
In the Thought Motel, where thoughts check in, but they don't check out.
-Dingo
