Church of Elvis (G)
Father O'Mally has been preaching at his church in Ireland for so long, that he decides to take a vacation. He has never been married and he is curious as to what an American endures in everyday life. So, he decides to go to the States before it is too late.
He hops on the plane bound for Nevada. He arrives in the Airport in Las Vegas. As he is exiting the plane, someone in the airport runs up to him and exclaims, "Elvis! Oh my God! It's Elvis! I knew you weren't dead Elvis! How have you been?"
Father looks at her and says, "Get outta me face. Can't you see I'm not Elvis? I don't look a thing like Elvis." The father moves on to his cab waiting outside. He hops in his cab and he's a little upset so he tells the cabby, "Take me to my hotel and step on it."
The cabby turns and says, "Sure thing sir - Oh my God! It's Elvis! I knew you weren't dead! I'm your number one fan! It's so great to see you!"
"Shut up, you imbecile. I'm not Elvis! Now turn around and drive!" So, the cabby speeds up to the hotel. Father O'Malley gets his things and walks up to the hotel check-in counter.
"Oh my God! Oh my God! It's you!" screams the hotel clerk. "You're back Elvis! I knew this day would happen. We saved everything just the way you like it! Free cheeseburgers, peanut butter and banana fried sandwiches, masseurs, complementary hookers and a full liquor bar! I'm so glad you're back!"
Father O'Malley looks at the hotel clerk and says, "Thank you. Thank you very much!"
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Mundane Journeys through an Amazing World
begins with Interstate 80. Not the most engaging topic, I know, but when you think about it, I-80 runs all the way across the North American continent linking San Francisco and New York. It's not just a ribbon of asphalt, it's a portal to far away, almost magical places.
My visits to major cities like Tokyo, London and Washington DC have been business affairs. I haven't rode a lot of roller coasters or ridden in open air buses, but I have visited with senators, bought yams from the back of a truck and barely escaped complete embarrassment when I was introduced to Matt Wiener in Vegas.
As I wrote the book I realized that over the years exotic, distant places have become more like the mundane places I've called home. But, as it turns out, there really aren't any mundane places, only mundane ways of looking at things.
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