Mrs. Cranky and her sister are at a convention here in Las Vegas this week. My brother-in-law and I have been given $35 each and permission to explore Sin City.
Come along with me on our grand adventure!
The view from the hotel
Ah Vegas, the land of fantasy where, if even for a short time, a man can escape from the drudgeries of day to day life and get caught up in a magical world.
Another view from the hotel
Ahem. Well the fantasy begins just over the wall and beyond the dumpster.
Now THIS is what I’m talking about.
A $5 table! I’m a realist. I know that the goal of every casino is to hold you upside down by your ankles and Hoover your wallet dry. However, if they at least give you an hour or two of entertainment, then I’m OK with that.
Now on the East Coast, we only have Atlantic City and for some inexplicable reason that trashy town doesn’t have tables for less than $15. This amounts to about six minutes of fun. Screw you, Trump.
Even more inexplicably, there are no less than two dozen plumbers swarming the tables eight deep.
Man on eighth floor: Hon, you will not believe what our window is looking out of.
Toni Braxton is at the Flamingo. I’m not sure how I figured that out.
Paying my respects at the Parisian
Just like they do in the real Paris!!
Preston, Smantix & Annika: An “I lost my ass in Vegas” shotglass with a donkey? You shouldn’t have! No really, you shouldn’t have.
See you kids next week.