Oddity and the city of Las Vegas are awkwardly close friends, the kind you might half expect to find sloppily making out as a drunken mess in an alleyway or find together in a bathroom stall halfway through the evening's festivities, before encountering them again pounding more shots and taking turns holding each other's hair back during the ensuing vomit parade. Weird and Vegas go together like peanut butter and jelly, Catholicism and pedophiles, strippers and glitter... Between the excessive heat that blisters and peels most reasonable soft people into bitter withered husks, the constant flow of starry-eyed tourists looking to get riggity-riggity-wrecked and perpetual creation of shiny new entertainments, the weirdness permeates and sinks in deep like the tobacco smoke stench in old hotel rooms wallpaper. Vegas and weird, you know, they're real tight besties. For that, we should all be incredibly thankful. 
Without this deep-seated weirdness Vegas might not be half as fun or half as interesting, and likely would have followed the countless other ghost towns nearby and shriveled into a brittle husk eon ago, forgotten amongst the sands of the desert that surrounds it. Luckily for us, the city continues it's undulating growth, sending paroxysmal tendrils out into new corners of the valley and sending a healthy flow of humans to fill the new appendages. More humans mingling and cohabiting means more weirdos crawling out of the woodworks, more eccentrics and worst of all, artists. The most insidious of weirdos, artists, and musicians seem drawn to the city like moths to an oh-so-beautiful light. Maybe it's all that neon blinking it's beacon out into the night, like a Bat-signal for the abnormal among us. All this means is that it should come as no surprise to you fine folks reading this blog here that we happen to know, and sometimes even rub elbows with, some musicians and their ilk from time to time. As creative types ourselves, we try to support our fellow makers when given the chance. After all, we're pretty weird, too...
So, if you find yourself out walking around Vegas, especially near the Arts District or Downtown (or, in this special case the Huntridge Tavern off Charleston) and hear some odd, eclectic mix of sounds that may or may not be a nightmarish hellscape, and a man in a dress covered in (fake?) blood tumbles out, don't be afraid. It's probably just Aaron. He's cool, albeit a little weird...but, hey, who you are you to judge?
Photos in this post were not provided by this handsome dude above, but he is a friend and long-time badass. Photos were taken by Antho. Enjoy!
