Let's get one thing out of the way at the start. Curse you Viagra. Thanks for taking the only song Elvis ever wrote and turning it into an erectile dysfunction commercial. Eff you, strong letter to follow. Now I can't ever hear Viva Las Vegas without immediately getting a mental image of your hipster doofus band jam of fallow tallywackers sitting around singing about their junk. And how it doesn't work without a pill. Ah, spontaneous romance through better chemistry.
And while I greatly appreciate [F]oxymoron's comment that live blogging whilst gambling would make for great reading,
that would simply have taken more industry, technology and sobriety of which I was able.
Instead, I present to you inane and insightful (sometimes both at the same time) ramblings scribbled upon cocktail napkins, betting slips and those cards for the women they try to force on you as you roam The Strip.
-- I'm playing a little game I call Douchebag and Hoor. See if you can find this couple in your town!
-- The Imperial Palace is really showing it's age. And that's just the cocktail waitresses! Hiyo. I'm here all week. No wait, just for another two days.
-- $6 for a bottle of Miller Lite!? Steve Wynn can lick my taint. If I have to pay minibar prices at the main bar, I'm going to drink in my underwear just like if I was in my overpriced Encore room.
-- If you're a celebrity impersonator and you actually have to wear a name tag telling people which celebrity you're supposed to be, you might want to work on your card dealing skills.
-- 4 Sixes! WooT!
-- There is no way the Utah Spazz stay within 12 points of the Lakers.
-- Why does Mac King have Monday off? Now I have to drink and keep gambling. Damn.
-- The Star Trek slot machine did not boldly go where no man had gone before. It did, however, beam up $20 much too quickly.
-- A scroungy looking guy came up to me and asked for money for a bus ticket. I asked how I could know he wouldn't just take $20 and go gamble with it. His answer? "Oh, I got gambling money."
-- Drinking your way down the strip is a good way to lose weight.
-- Lakers 113, Spazz 100. Thank you for the $, Kobe.
-- I just bought the Wife a monkey. He looks housebroken.
-- $10 to look at Ferrari parts? No wonder, Wynn is loaded. Good money if you can make it I guess.
-- Why is the stupid horse racing game only at the MGM grand? Even more depressing, I'm good at it.
-- I'm a sucker for long shots? 200 to 1? I'm in for a buck.
-- Nine a.m. is not too early for a hot dog. A real Vienna hot dog at that.
-- Damn. I'm going to miss Brittney's concert. Well, I'm not really going to miss it.
-- Three shrimp is really not enough for an appetizer, Emeril. Is it bad form to order 4 of these at a time?
-- I used to T.A. a stat class for God's sakes. Why can't I win any money at craps today?
-- It's really sad that all the money I won was playing the Star Wars penny slot machine. Even more depressing is that the Japanese tour group had gathered around to watch me destroy the Death Star. Yes, the Force is strong with this one.
-- $300 bucks in pennies would be pretty funny to carry around. In a wheelbarrow up and down the Strip.
-- The Tequila Goddess should really be able to summon tequila from her nipples. Just saying.
-- If there's anything funnier than sneaking into the midst of a Japanese tourist group and doing your Godzilla impression, I don't know what it is. Why don't they stampede like in the movies?
-- Is this pool warm from the oppressive sun or the swim up black jack table?
-- I'm up at 4:00 am because I woke up. Those people at the bar are up at 4:00 am because they're still up.
-- There's a guy asleep in the hall in front of the door next to mine. And he's wearing a sports coat. Stay classy, Vegas!
-- This drive home is a lot longer than the drive down. Luckily thinking about all this bootleg liquor bought in Nevada and avoiding the oppressive Utah tax code makes it a happy drive.
That's it, kids. I'm out of cocktail napkins. Happy Earth Day!