A Quick Review...

My inbox is always full. I get tons of email every week, most of it legitimate, and lots of it is from people I've never met before, either giving feedback from this site, or asking questions about Vegas in general. I try to answer every one of them, but sometimes when I get home from work, I see that I have like 12 new messages, I always read them with the best of intentions of responding the next day after I get up, but sometimes I forget. If that has happened to you, I apologize.

But, this morning I got yet another email from Amazon.com asking me to review a recent purchase. For those that don't know, I do about 99% of my shopping on Amazon for four simple reasons--I hate going to the mall, I avoid all sales taxes, free shipping, and the prices are generally better than most other retail outlets. Plus the UPS driver lady knows and loves me and always drops off my packages closest to the door nearest my bedroom, instead of leaving them by the side gate closest to the driveway.

But the only thing that bugs me about Amazon is that every time I make a purchase, they send me an email asking for a review. For whatever reason, as much as I value their customer reviews, I've been more of a 'taker' and never felt the need to give one. I have better things to do with my time, but this morning they asked me to review my Sealy Posturepedic Medium Support Superstandard Pillow sets that I purchased back in January.

So I followed the link and gave the following review:

I absolutely love these new pillows so much that I bought four of them for my new queen-sized bed. They're so soft--it feels like I'm sleeping on boobies!

Hopefully that response will cut down on some of the traffic in my inbox. If not, I'm going to figure out a way to work the word 'boobies' into every product review they ask me to do.

Speaking of Amazon and boobies, did you know it was believed that the original 'Amazon' women would cut off their right breast to keep it from getting in the way of their bow string when hunting? Seven years of college, baby, that's where you learn stuff like that...

Mikey

The Madness

Woo Hoo! It's finally my 'weekend', and believe me, I am sooooo happy that it's finally here. And yes, I skated out of work two hours early last night, too. My tables were still busy, but since I put my name on the early-out list, they cut me loose once a couple of dice and blackjack tables closed down and they had to put the extra dealers somewhere.

One thing I haven't had the chance to do yet is fill out my brackets. Normally that's been done the first thing Monday morning of every tournament week since the beginning of time. However, my printer went Tango Uniform on me during the last move, and now only prints in light red, if at all. And that really pisses me off because I'd spent a fortune on new ink cartridges, too. And since I no longer work in an office with a computer and printer at my disposal, here it is less than 48 hours before tipoff and I still don't have a bracket! I could've walked over to the sports book and got one last night before I left work, but in my haste to begin my weekend, I completely forgot about it.

All I'm sure of, is that in years past, Winthrop usually never covered the spread--I've been following their tournament life since 1996 because I had an old girlfriend who taught English there. Anyhow, I used to bet on them every year, and of course they usually drew Duke in the first round and were a 40+ point underdog. And they NEVER covered--at least all the times I bet on them. Duke always stomped 'em into the ground with no mercy. But I believe this is the year that it changes, because they're playing Tennessee in the first round, and Tennessee has absolutely no business being a number two seed.

I'm sure that sometime within the next day or so I'll find myself near a casino/sports book and grab a blank bracket. Once it's filled out I'll share a couple of picks and my thoughts with everyone.

Anyhow, it's only about 11am and I just got up--Once I got home last night I stayed up watching the latest episode of 24 before going to bed. I think I'll post comments about that and also about the season premiere of The Sopranos later today. So those of you 'behind' in your viewing, if you don't want to know about any plot details from either show, don't come back here until you catch up.

Mikey

Lies, Damn Lies, and Statistics

I thought I'd make another quick post before I head out for a couple of hours. It's finally my 'Friday' night, and since it's the beginning of a new pay period, I may just find myself skating out of work an hour or two early, especially if it's slow. Tomorrow, I'll get all of my errands done, and then the buffoons start to arrive. The first is Steve B from DC, arriving late tomorrow night. Once he gets settled, we're gonna go out and grab a bite and have a drink or two.

Then I've got to crawl out of bed and get down to the airport by 10:30 on Wednesday morning, because that's when my favorite Drunk & Disorderly, Angy, flies in from E. Bumfux, Illinois. We're gonna do a little bit of shopping and grab some lunch, then it's back to the airport to pick up my sister Cyndi. At some point I've got to get the ladies settled into their hotel rooms, then we're all having dinner together at one of my new favorites, Mon Ami Gabi.

I guess that means that after tomorrow, blogging will be fairly light for the rest of the week. Oh, Friday morning I may pop in and upload some pictures if I have time, but there are no guarantees. Everyone leaves by next Monday afternoon, so after some well-earned rest, I'll be back to my normal schedule. But my buddies from Phoenix will be here this weekend, too, so including them, I'll have about 20 friends lurking around all week. Should be a good time.

Anyhow... Up until now, I never really thought about how many people are visiting this site on a daily basis and reading the stuff I post. But lately I've been checking the site meter (I knew something was up once I got my latest nasty-gram from Photobucket, telling me I'm exceeding my bandwidth again...) and it turns out that I have more readers than I thought. So far today, I've already gotten over 250 hits, and almost a thousand over the weekend--and I thought nobody came here on the weekends. If this trend continues, and improves, I may utilize blogads to make a few bucks here and there with all the traffic I'm getting. But no worries--everything will always be free. I won't shut out anyone like those dickheads at lowbrow.com did.

Of course, when I saw how many visitors I was getting, I figured it was the same 30 hard-core readers and family members refreshing their screens, but looking deeper into the stats showed me that I've got readers all over the world, including quite a few Canadians. Nice!

What I need to do is find me a computer-nerd girlfriend who can help me get this site set up exactly the way I want it. It's close, but there are a few changes I'd like to make--nothing major. But I'm not the most tech-savvy person in the world, as the trial-and-error method is generally the way I've done my websites.

Anyhow, I've got some stuff to take care of, so I've got to get out of this place, if it's the last thing I ever do...

Check ya later!

Mikey

Welcome To My Turf

Happy Monday, everyone! I'd forgotten to mention the latest civic improvement that Clark County has undertaken to make this city more visitor-friendly. In fact, I just noticed it last week, myself.

It seems that with all of the people stopping by the 'Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas' sign on the south end of the Strip and taking pictures over the years, the old girl was getting a little dated.

So instead of just plain old brown dirt in the median, the sign now sits atop a bright green astroturf rug. But not only that, they built in a small mound in front to facilitate picture-taking. And to spruce it up even more, all four card suits were painted on the front edge of the mound. I have to admit, it looks pretty spiffy. Of course, there is still no good place to park nearby, so you still have to leave your car at the Klondike and walk over, but it's a small price to pay to have your photo immortalized in front of one of the most famous signs ever built.

It's been a very long weekend at work, and I'm glad that tonight will be my 'Friday'--I need a little rest before the buffoonery gets underway. Saturday night I had to deal with complete drunken assholes for the last two hours of my shift on the dice table, and last night, before I even dealt my first hand of Pai Gow, I bent over to pick up a seat cushion and ripped the ass directly out of my pants.

Yep, it was a little breezy back there for a couple of hours, and I looked pretty silly walking around with my apron on backwards, but luckily for all of my co-workers and customers, I wasn't going commando at the time. I knew that particular pair of pants were close to retirement--they were the first pair of 'work pants' that I bought about a year and a half ago when I first had that crazy idea to move to Vegas. So they had a lot of miles on them, and if you held them up to the light, you could damn near see through them. But they sure were comfy for a wool/polyester blend... (Now you can absolutely see through them!)

Since the casino was so slow after midnight, and I was feeling especially floppy in back, I decided to salvage whatever dignity I had left and go ahead and take a couple of hours of EO time. I was following around one of those Asian 'closers' that everybody dreads from table to table, so each time I got to a new game it was dead. So I did a lot of standing around last night, making my decision to leave that much easier.

But now I'm home and wide awake. Time to watch the season premier of The Sopranos that I tivo'd last night.

Mikey

Far & Wide

Well, it looks like winter decided to spend the week here in Las Vegas, along with all of the Nascar fans. It's blustery, cold, and grey outside, almost bleak. Well, as bleak as a neon city could ever be. In fact, snow is predicted over in the white-folks neighborhoods of Summerlin and the like out on the Upper West Side. Bottom line, it's a cold one out there today. I'm keeping my beer in the driveway instead of the fridge.

And instead of letting me sleep in peace today after a very long night at the tables, my cell phone woke me up. It seems that my niece Diana and her mother--my sister--Cyndi decided that they'd like to show me how the weather was down in the Caribbean today, and parked their silly asses in front of a webcam that overlooks the harbor down in St. Croix.


Awful nice of them, don't ya think? Guess where my next vacation is going to be...

Mikey

0 - For - 5

I know that the Oscars were a week ago, and of course I didn't watch one minute of the awards ceremony. In fact, I never saw even ONE of the movies nominated for Best Picture, and the only movie I'm interested in seeing that got any hype at all would be Walk The Line. As soon as the price of the dvd drops to a reasonable price, I'll add it to my collection.

I used to be quite a fan of going to the movies, but to be honest, I haven't attended a single one since I've moved here to Vegas. (I'm sure it has nothing to do with the myriad of other diversions available to me...) But I've never been a fan of taking a date to a movie, unless you were already 'dating'--it's impossible to talk, you've got that whole should-I-or-shouldn't-I hold her hand/put my arm around her dilemma that I outgrew in college, and basically it's now a waste of money to spend ten bucks apiece for film that's gonna be out three months later on dvd, while paying for overpriced popcorn and soda from a brain-dead pimply-faced product of public schools who can't make change without the help of an electronic cash register.

Besides, I have learned from sad experience that if all of the critics agree that any film is a 'masterpiece', it's usually some pretentious garbage that I don't want to see. My retinas are still scarred from sitting through The Crying Game. Holy shit what a horrible movie! And perfectly enjoyable movies usually get panned from the so-called experts--it's like David Addison said to Maddie Hayes all those years ago on Moonlighting--If we listened to the critics, we'd have never seen Flashdance!

So, while I haven't been the the movie theatre here in Vegas just yet, I still have four free passes burning a hole in my pocket. Don't worry--they'll probably never get used. I'm sure I'll wash my wallet again and ruin them before too long. But I've got my eye on the newspaper for something good to come along. So far, all I'm looking forward to is the sequel to Pirates of the Caribbean and the remake of the Poseidon Adventure.

But in the meantime, let me recommend a couple of my favorite feel-good movies to entertain you good folks during these cold winter days that have suddenly descended upon us, or, if you need an in-flight movie during your next trip out to Vegas.

The first one, I just watched again this afternoon on Tivo. It called Heart & Souls, and although I enjoyed it years ago, I'd totally forgotten about it until I saw it being played on cable last week, so I saved it. I'll be adding it to the collection eventually.

Another favorite that I've enjoyed for years, and would pay any price for a replacement DVD, is The Commitments. I absolutely love that movie, and recommend it to anyone who asks. If you can understand the heavy Irish accents, you'll spend the entire movie giggling your ass off, and as a bonus it's got the best soundtrack this side of The Lost Boys.

So if books aren't your thing, and it's a rainy and cold afternoon where you are, curl up with a hot cup of hazelnut coffee and the home theatre and tell the Academy to stick it.

Mikey

Tasty Vegas

Hey Gang!

I'm back at the keyboard after a short hiatus to visit with my favorite Jersey Girl, Dawn. She was in town for her annual March conference, so she had meetings every morning and sometimes in the afternoons, too. So while we hung out quite a bit, the buffoonery wasn't up to our usual standards. We didn't gamble that much, didn't drink that much, and I carried the same cigar around all week, never really having a chance to light that puppy up.

But we did get to eat! We had a couple of really excellent meals this week. The first was at Kahunaville at Treasure Island on Monday afternoon. I'd heard good things about the place, but I figured it would be a lot like Margaritaville or Bahama Breeze--an overpriced theme restaurant with so-so food. But I was wrong.

First of all, I loved the atmosphere. It's tucked away in a far corner of Treasure Island just before you get to the Mirage tram, so the noise of the casino isn't a factor. And I'm a sucker for the whole tropical/tiki bar motif, so they pretty much had me at hello.

Their signature drinks looked pretty good, and I ordered some sort of tasty rum concoction that added to my already good mood. Dawn, having to go back to work that afternoon, opted for a Coke instead (Yes--TI serves Coke--none of that vile Pepsi shiat! Another reason to go give them your business!).

For an appetizer, we ordered some crab/artichoke dip, but unfortunately, it was the low-light of the meal. The crab was a little too intense, meaning it'd been awhile since it had been anywhere near seawater, so that was a little off-putting. And the tri-color nacho chips were a little on the stale side, although we figured the blue ones must have more preservatives in them because they were the freshest. We ended up leaving half of the appetizer uneaten, but not being highly upset with it, we didn't mention it to the waitress or insist that it get taken off the bill, we just basically ignored it after a few bites.

But as blah as the appetizer was, the entree salads were excellent! Dawn had a creamy bacon and crispy fried chicken salad, and I went with one of my favorites, the Asian chicken salad. Both were huge and full of tasty bits of salad goodness.

One should exercise caution when attempting to eat a salad bigger than one's own head

This is a closeup of my salad. I swear the thing had a half pound of grilled chicken on it.

The only minor complaint that I had about my salad was that it didn't have enough cashews or wasabi peas floating around in it. Occasionally I'd get a bite of one that would give off a small flavor explosion, but they were too few and far between. Otherwise, it was very good, with mandarin slices, sesame seeds, fresh greens, and a zippy Asian dressing.

Of course we didn't come close to finishing them, and although we looked over the dessert menu, we decided against it. I have no idea what the total bill came to, as Dawn insisted on making her boss pay for it. I couldn't argue with that, so out came the corporate Amex, and I saved at least twenty bucks on the deal. First win of the week!

After lunch, we just wandered around TI for a bit, and I re-acquainted myself with the place. I hadn't set foot in there in over six years, so to me it was like visiting a whole new casino. I found myself really liking the vibe there. Some folks complain that 'they' ruined it by taking down the pirate sign and changing everything that was good about the old Treasure Island, but me, I couldn't complain in the least about anything I saw there. Besides, making the property more 'adult' is ok in my book, as I'm totally in favor of just about anything that drives the rugrats away from the Strip.

We also took a walk over to check out the menu at Isla, one of the restaurants on my list to try. The prices looked extremely reasonable, and of course the bar looked like a place I'd enjoy. Can't wait to get back and try it.

After that, Dawn played a little video poker and hit a few slots, while I camped out at a pai gow table for an hour or so. I managed to get my first straight flush in my short pai gow playing career for a quick hundred dollar win, and with all of the back-and-forth, I left with a $110 profit. Coupled with a free lunch, I'd say it was a winning afternoon. And over all, I really enjoyed the day at Treasure Island.

I had to work that night, so we said our goodbyes when I dropped her off later at Mandalay Bay. I spent half of that night back in the training room learning to deal that new World Poker Tour game I mentioned a couple months back. Now that I've got that game under my belt, I figure I'll be on it a LOT--we are very shorthanded for dealers that know the game, and a lot of the gals that have never played poker don't like it because you have to read all of the hands at the end and it can be pretty confusing. So I'm guessing I'll be on that table quite a bit in the near future.

Of course, after eight hours of work I dragged my ass home and struggled to stay awake while watching the two hour episode of 24 from the night before.

Those fucking terrorists killed Edgar???? NOOOOOO! He was carrying the banner for all of us fat dumpy guys who sit at a computer all day. Methinks that Chloe is gonna get a very bad case of PMS if she encounters any bad guys in future episodes.

I managed to get a couple hours of sleep after that before picking Dawn up again, and this time we headed downtown and had lunch at the Main Street Station brew pub. It's been a favorite of mine for a couple of years, and this time didn't disappoint, either. Dawn ordered the filet mignon sandwich (the first thing I ever ordered on my first visit--soooo good!) while I went with the bacon cheeseburger. Honestly, I can't remember if we had an appetizer, and I didn't take any dirty pictures of our food this time, either. But believe me, it was a great meal.

After lunch we wandered over to the Vegas Club to meet Fighter Pilot Nick for a drink or two and a quick visit. We could only stay for an hour or so because Dawn had an afternoon meeting. But we had a nice visit, did a little gambling and had a drink or two. And I left with another $100 profit from the Pai Gow table.

Once we got back to Mandalay Bay, Dawn went to her meeting and I went home and got a few precious hours of sleep before we went out that night.

Dawn had mentioned a restaurant at Fashion Show Mall that she had also been to in Philadelphia that she really liked a lot, so once we hooked up back at the Bay, we cabbed it down to the mall. By then it was blustery and raining out--just miserably cold, and all I could think about was all those poor schmucks coming to town next week expecting warm weather and mild temperatures, and hoping that the weather got better in time.

Anyhow, the restaurant we were headed to is called Maggiano's Little Italy. My sister told me about it, having visited a location in Atlanta, I believe. Both my sister and Dawn raved about it, but honestly I wasn't expecting much. Living here in Vegas has turned me into a picky food snob, and I've been too arrogant about it to give 'chain' places a fair shake. I guess my recent visit to Bahama Breeze reinforced my opinion, so I went in with the lowest of expectations--just hoping that it would be better than the Olive Garden.

First of all, when we got there, it was insanely packed, but it looked like a cool place. Lots of dark wood and subdued lighting, along with a lounge crooner and a pianist providing live entertainment. Not only that, but it had some of the absolute coolest pictures of old Vegas adorning the walls that I have ever seen. Museum quality photographs at the very least.

As soon as I was headed to the hostess stand in the middle of the bar, a gal tugged on my sleeve and asked if I'd put my name on the list yet. I told her we hadn't, and she gave me her pager and her party name saying that they had to leave but they were at the top of the list. Score! We sat down in the bar and ordered a drink and within ten minutes 'our' pager was going off.

We got a good table near the windows overlooking the north Strip--the Frontier and the Wynn taking up the lions share of the view.

Dawn warned me that the portions were huge, but that didn't stop us from ordering an Italian Salad and a half order of Calimari. Additionally, as soon as we sat down they brought us a basket of warm bread and a dish full of olive oil and balsamic vinegar for dipping. Oh hell yeah it was tasty.

I was thinking Pinot Noir again, but for some reason when the waitress mentioned that Ecco Domani Pinot Griggio was on special, I ordered a glass of the white stuff. I've always liked it, and for a cheaper wine, it's pretty damn good.

Our 'half order' of calimari arrived a few minutes later, and it was delicious--piping hot and fried to a crispy golden brown, and tender, not tough. Of course I shudder to think what a full order looked like, because our platter had enough dead squid on it to qualify as a war crime at Sea World.

We were smart enough to get the half-sized Italian salad, also. Again, it too was excellent, but it was also a monster:

Yes, that's two full plates of salad, plus the bowl it was served in, still full. That's the 'half order'. Notice the balsamic vinegar we used to redecorate the table cloth with--that bottle can be tricky.

Once we worked our way through the appetizer and salad, our waitress was kind enough to give us a break for a few minutes before she laid the entrees on us. Dawn ordered chicken piccatta and I went with another favorite dish of mine, the veal marsala.

While waiting for our entrees to arrive, we enjoyed the cool vibe of the place and the nice view down the Strip. In another moment of introspection, I again realized how lucky I was to be here living a life that others envy. There I was in the middle of another excellent restaurant in the middle of an excellent city, enjoying an excellent view. I almost had to pinch myself.

Luckily the waitress and her assistant arrived just about that time and woke me up from my daydreaming. They were bearing very large servings of some pretty tasty grub.


My dish came with three large pieces of veal, covered in sauteed button mushrooms, and Dawn's chicken piccatta had three chicken breasts atop a bed of spinach. We also ordered a side of pasta each, which was only like $2.50 each--she got spaghetti and I went with fettucini alfredo. And it was all pretty damn good. Of course we couldn't finish most of it--I brought the boxes home and ate the leftovers for lunch today.

Once we gave up, again we considered dessert, but we were much too full and halfway to a food coma. And the bill was only $80 before tip.

By the time we finished up, the restaurant was fairly empty and quiet, so we wandered around looking at all of the pictures on the walls and such. Overall, I really enjoyed it and would go back in a second--the atmosphere was fun, the food was fantastic, and the prices were reasonable. If I had to compare it to anything, it's like a more upscale Buca de Beppo--a little quieter, but then, Italian restaurants generally aren't exactly libraries.

I guess you could say that it far exceeded my expectations.

It was still early, but Dawn had an 8:00 am meeting, so we called it a night right after dinner. We cabbed it back to Mandalay Bay and said our goodbyes, then I fetched the Sled from the valet. Sitting in traffic on Tropicana, I decided to pull into the new Hooters casino and check it out.

Feh.

It's still the San Remo underneath. Although it was packed, the casino was small and didn't offer much to keep me coming back. It had a wooden floor, evocative of a basketball court or The Western, except that the waitresses and dealers were much better looking. They had two pits with table games, one 'regular' pit and one 'Hooters Girls' pit where all of the dealers are hottie chicks wearing Hooters outfits.

Turns out that I knew one of the girls in the Hooters pit, and she went on break just a minute after I walked up. We talked for a minute and she told me that the pits keep their tokes separately--so the Hooters girl dealers make about $29 per hour in tips, while everyone else makes about half that. As a dealer, I think it is a sucky arrangement and I wouldn't work there. But then, I don't get to wear a tight white tank top and orange satin shorts when I deal. Maybe if I were pitching cards in the Hooters pit, I'd think differently.

Anyhow, I know how precious a dealer's break time is, so I didn't keep her long. After that I just headed for the door, and I probably won't be back. It's just not that great--it's like a poor man's Hard Rock. A very poor man. Kinda like comparing Ellis Island to New York New York. At least the scenery was nice.

But that's pretty much it for my week. It was nice to see Dawn again and we had a fun visit, but tonight it's back to work for the next five days. Once I make it through that, the Madness begins.

Of course there will be more stories and pictures. Some of which I can actually post here.

Mikey

Nothing Says Las Vegas...

... quite like a fuzzy orange taxi cab.


Mikey

Crouching Dealer Hidden Pai Gow

A couple of years ago when my buddie Dougie tried to introduce me to the wonderful casino game of Pai Gow poker, he told me that the appeal of it was that there were so many tied hands in the game that you never really lost that much money. I believed him--he was an authority on the game, having won six figures playing the game one day at NYNY.

So I sat down with him at a $25 Pai Gow table at Mandalay Bay two years ago during March Madness. I bought in for $150 and promptly lost my first six hands in a row.

After that, I believe my reaction was Enough of this Kung Fu shiat, I'll stick with good old American poker.

So I didn't touch the game again until this past November when Eddie B was in town for his bachelor party, and one of the other guys kept saying how he hated blackjack (although he was the only one winning) and that we should go play Pai Gow instead. We finally agreed, and by the end of the weekend I was hooked, having played for several hours each day and walking away with more than my fair share of free drinks plus about $150 in profit.

I enjoyed it so much that I learned to deal the game, and now I'm behind the table about four nights a week. It's now my favorite game to play and deal.

When Dawn was in town this week, I got to play a little bit more--I caught a straight flush on Monday afternoon at Treasure Island, and then on Tuesday afternoon I sat down at the Vegas Club and got a four-of-a-kind on my first hand. That left me with about a $200 profit for the week.

But then we ended up staying at Mandalay Bay last night. We were going to go down to Bally's and see 'Jubilee', but her last meeting didn't get out until after 5:30 at the convention center, and by the time she got back to her room to shower, change, and get ready, we had no time to fight the gridlocked traffic on the Strip and get to the show on time. So we skipped it and just had dinner at Raffles Cafe instead.

The food was good, but since I hadn't eaten a thing all day, I ordered an appetizer and an entree. Of course their portions are ridiculously huge, so we didn't finish half of the stuff they brought us. But the nachos and popcorn shrimp were excellent--either one could've been a meal unto itself.

After dinner we decided to hit the casino for a bit. I'm not a fan of video poker at all, but a couple of the banks of 9-6 Jacks or Better quarter machines had a progressive topping $1700, so we knew it was likely to hit fairly soon. I sat and watched while Dawn chased the Royal, hoping for a glimpse of that elusive creature, the slot-machine cocktail waitress. She finally made an appearance and we talked her out of a couple of Mai Tais.

But I was getting bored just watching Dawn play vp, so I headed for Chinatown. There were only 3 Pai Gow tables open on a Wednesday night, but their limits were a little snooty. $100, $50, and a $25 ghetto table that catered to people of my ilk.

Unfortunately, the Mandalay Bay's Kung Fu is still too strong for me, and I lost--count 'em--TEN hands in a row. Yep. Ten frickin' hands in a row where the highest thing I got was a pair of sevens with an Ace on top. Twice I bought the Dragon hand and flipped it over to see that I was on the receiving end of a TEN HIGH Pai Gow--the second worst hand possible.

At least I lasted long enough for the cocktail waitress to make an appearance, but I'm here to tell you that a $300 Corona is a bitter beer, indeed.

Mikey

Going Chuck Norris This Week

Hey Gang. Sorry, but I'm gonna be Missing In Action these next few days. My friend Dawn is here from New Jersey and we're hanging out this week. I've got a lot to write about-- Gelato, SliceNY, Boxing Day, Kahunaville, a Straight Flush, drugs, learning a new game, etc etc etc.

But now it's sleepy time--I just finished four very long nights at the casino and need to rest. Have a wonderful Tuesday. I'll check back later.

Mikey

Weekend Update

I thought I'd take a few minutes out of this lazy Sunday afternoon to make a quick post. Work has been crazy-ass busy these past two nights, if not the entire casino, at least my tables have been. And I'm thinking somebody in charge at the casino has been reading my blog because I've been dealing a lot more dice lately.

I went an entire month without setting foot in the dice pit, and now I've been over there three times in the last week. Not bad--my game needs practice, badly, but I've discovered that on weekends I'd much rather deal pai gow and carnival games than being chained to the craps tables. Not that I dislike dealing dice, but our casino seems to attract some fairly annoying regulars on the weekends and I can do without most of 'em. It's the everybody-thinks-they're-bigtime attitude that irritates me the most. Not that it's a rampant problem, but a couple of them per night is more than enough to kill a fun vibe at a table.

I think if I were to rank my favorite games to deal, it would go in this order:

1. Pai Gow
2. Carnival Games (Deuces Wild, Crazy 4 Poker, 3-card, etc)
3. Shoe Blackjack ($10 minimum)
4. Pitch BJ
5. $5 Shoe
6. 6-5 Single Deck
7. Single Deck Super Fun 21
8. Dice ($5 minimum at least--the higher the minimum, the better)
9. Let It Ride
10. Dollar Dice w/quarters. (Thank God that's gone--worst table in Vegas to be stuck behind)

Nobody liked to deal the quarter game, and nobody likes to deal Let It Die unless they need a nap. Dealing Let It Ride is the Vegas equivalent of standing on an assembly line separating the bad peanuts from the good ones as they go by, and the quarter dice game is just a taste of Dealer's Purgatory for people that have bad Karma to burn off after they die.

Anyhow, that's enough of that ranting. But I've had nothing but tough tables all weekend. On Saturday night my dice game was pretty packed with everyone doing all kinds of makes-no-sense betting all night, and I was so glad when they finally closed it around 1:00 am--I was getting worked so hard I was sweating like Mike Tyson at a spelling bee.

After that they sent me up to the bar to deal blackjack and I encountered the latest sign of the Apocalypse--a $5 six-deck shoe that paid 6-5!!! Yep, they changed our bar games to 6-5, even though they are shoes--and the tables were still full! What's the old saying? Something about a fool and his money...?

Today's stock tip--Go long on Station Casinos!

Anyhow, I made it to the bitter end all three nights, although I was sooooo tempted to go home early last night. I just keep reminding myself about all the stuff I need to pay for in the next few months and that's usually enough motivation, but sometimes there is nothing more tedious than eight straight hours of five-dollar blackjack.

I didn't go out after work last night, breaking the tradition of my usual Saturday night ritual. I was so tired that I just came straight home and went to bed. Once I got up this morning, I made my way down to Target to buy some essentials like laundry detergent and such (I was about a day away from having to turn my drawers inside out and wear 'em again...)

After that I made a stop at the local Barnes & Noble to pick up the latest issue of Lats & Atts and to do a little browsing. I didn't find anything for myself, but there was an awesome coffee table book I got for my sister Amy--Grateful Dead, The Illustrated Trip. About fifteen pounds of photographic hippie goodness for a mere ten bucks. When my other sister Cyndi comes out here next week, I'm gonna give it to her to take back to Nashville with her next month and deliver it. Of course it has to go back to St. Croix for a couple weeks first, so it should be fairly well travelled by the time Amy gets it.

Once my errands were done, I treated myself to lunch at Metro Pizza. There's not much better than enjoying a cold Newcastle draft, reading a favorite sailing mag, and munching on some authentic NY-style pie while Dean Martin croons in the background providing the soundtrack.

Now that my work is done and I've got a fully belly, I think it's time to take a little power nap before I head back to the office in a couple of hours.

Mikey

What a Looooong Night

Hey Gang!

I'm just now crawling out of bed--it's 12:27 in the afternoon--but I suffered through an extremely long evening behind the tables last night.

First of all, since I was sick last weekend, it was my first day back at work in four days. Everyone knows how hard it is to go back to work after a four day weekend, even if you didn't do a damn thing the entire time. Well, that was me last night.

Once I got back, I saw that they'd made a few changes to my new home, 'Chinatown'. First of all, they got rid of that Emperors Challenge pai gow--I'm guessing people liked to be able to tie a hand on occasion, plus the locals love to play the envy bonus. I know that almost every time I've dealt that game, nobody played the challenge, so it seemed like kind of a waste. I guess the numbers backed it up, so they took it out. And, they also removed one of the $5 shoe blackjack games and put in another pai gow table. So my three assigned tables last night were two pai gow games and Crazy 4 Poker.

Unfortunately, a couple of the pai gow tables way out on the far end of the pit were $20 games, so having three other $10 games going on a weeknight kept those tables bereft of players. Yep, my second hour I just stood at a dead table the entire time. Boring. And it makes the night just crawl by. You can't help but look at the clock every minute or so--believe me, it sucks. Try standing in one spot for an entire hour with nothing to read and nobody to talk to. The highlight of my hour was when security came by with a chip fill.

Luckily after that ordeal I got to spend some time at the Crazy 4 Poker table, but I was just mowing 'em down. A gal walked up, bought in for $100, and in the first four hands I dealt myself a three-of-a-kind, an ace-high flush, three aces, and a king-high straight. Wiped her out in less than five minutes. But then it got weird--a couple of real life pudding eatin' gay cowboys sat down to play, and I was subjected to their Hey-look-at-us-we're-proud-to-be-ass-pirates public displays of affection. Unfortunately for them, they were playing with no strategy except to throw away their money, so I didn't have to endure the show for long. Pretty soon, there I was, standing on a dead table again, although a little creeped out by that time.

By midnight, it was dead at my end of the pit, and I think I might've dropped maybe $35 in tokes the entire time. Unfortunately, I had to tough it out--I couldn't take an early out since I'd called in sick on Monday, and this entire paycheck goes towards March Madness buffoonery. So I had to stand there and suffer, while I saw other dealers hitting the door starting after just four hours.

But it got better after that. They started closing dead tables after midnight, so they sent me up to the bar to deal a shoe game for an hour. That was a vast improvement--I had a fun group and was dropping tons of tokes, and I filled the box right up to the lid with red checques. After that I spent the balance of the evening in the main pit dealing blackjack.

I ended up up dealing a $10 shoe game, and the only player was an older Hawaiian gentleman. I put together a great run for him and got him up over $500, and he was toking me $5 a hand, so almost every hand would end with me dropping another ten bucks in the toke box. That is, until this complete jerkoff sat down at the table and completely ruined the vibe. Not only was it the end of the tokes, but I completely wiped out the good player, forcing him to dig out another couple hundred bucks where just a few minutes before he was awash in red and green checques. By the time I left the table, I'd broken the guy, but managed to put another $250 or so into the dealer's paycheck fund.

Luckily I made it until 4:00 am, although I was a tuckered out little trooper by that time. And the oddball thing is, as sick as I was last weekend, by Tuesday morning I felt fine, thinking I'd kicked the funk that'd been dragging me down. As soon as I got to work last night, I started hacking up a lung again. There must be something in the air there that just doesn't agree with me. But I've got the hookup arranged on the Amoxicillian, I'm getting them on Monday, so hopefully that will finally cure what ails me.

Before I left, I ran into one of the Asian gals who was collecting all of the tokes at the end of the shift. She said we completely filled up two of our treasure boxes--a big night. And with all of the dealers that went home early, those of us who made it the entire eight hours should get a decent share for our efforts.

As badly as I wanted to go home, my Asian friend--Nana--insisted that I go out with her after work. She wanted a beer and didn't want to go alone. So I went to the bar with her, but after two Newcastles and a bottle of water, I was dead. Over her objections, I headed for home at 5am and collapsed into bed. Being payday, I've got to go out and run a few errands and pay a few bills this afternoon before heading back to the casino and doing it all over again.

But it's Friday night in Vegas--should be a good time.

Mikey

The Countdown is On!

I've said it before, now that I live here in Vegas, sometimes it's hard for me to get excited about joining up with others when they hit the Strip and such for gambling and debauchery. Not that I have anything against gambling or debauchery--in fact, I'm one of their strongest supporters! But I still have to crank it down a notch nowadays so I don't go broke and end up living under a bridge somewhere. It's a thin line, and I prefer to stay on this side of it.

But... March Madness is upon us. It's my second-favorite holiday season. It means that dozens of my friends are going to descend upon Vegas all at the same time and I'll have to participate in the buffoonery. I can tell that everyone else is getting excited, too. In the past 24 hours I've talked to Doc Al, Dougie, Cyndi, Angy, Steve B., and Eddie B--all talking about plans for the Madness.

As a bonus, the good folks I work for were kind enough to give me most of the weekend off--paid--so that I can fully enjoy the festivities.

In less than two weeks I'm gonna be spending my day off shuttling people from the airport to their hotels, hitting the liquor stores to help stock up the party suites, and mentally preparing myself to cut loose for a few days.

And word around the campfire is that somebody is providing me with a green feather boa to wear on St Paddy's Day. This could get ugly.

Mikey

Add Another One to the List

Browsing around tonight while munching on a hamburger and a Diet Coke, I stumbled across the website for Viaggio, a specialty Northern Italian restaurant that features a wine shop. (Caution, it's a flash site and plays music, so those at work be careful...) The menu sounds excellent, but what really intrigued me were the Wednesday night wine tastings for just $20. Four glasses of wine and some paired appetizers? I'd have to say that something like that really appeals to the cheap bastard/wannabe gourmet in me. Although, one couldn't actually accuse me of being a cheap bastard, lately it seems to be something I aspire to.

Fortunately, I have Wednesday nights off, so I'm fairly certain that there might be a wine tasting or two in my near future, but one night I'd like to go and give the regular dinner menu a try, also.

Before I do that, however, I should probably invest in a new dressy-casual shirt that is the same color as their red sauce. Because we all know there's a pretty good chance I'm gonna be wearing some before the night is over.

Mikey

Missed Opportunity

Dammit.

You all know how I'm working towards my intermediate goal of not deriving all of my income specifically from salary/wages. Investment income, while not as sweet as gambling income, is infinitely more satisfying.

However, if I would've been smarter in my younger years and realized I wanted a sailboat about the time I was 22 instead of when I was 32, I could be using it now to make a few extra bucks.

If the boat is a rockin', don't bother knockin'...

Mikey

Piece of Shiat Cars

You all know about the Ghetto Sled. Although it runs well, it's old and has several things wrong with it--it's getting close to the time to send it off to the automotive hospice for it's final days. Coincidentally, my brother has been stuck driving a piece of shiat car for the past few years, also. Well, he *does* have a nice SUV, but the wife gets to drive that one, and he can't ride his 190-mph Hayabusa on rainy days, either. So he's been feeling my pain until last week when he bought a new F-150 pickup truck.

We both believed that we each had the worse car, and being brothers, of course we argued about it whenever the subject came up. But we thought maybe the readers should decide, so we'll both plead our case. First up, The Good Reverend describes 'Red':

As most of you know, Hurricane Mikey and I (the good Reverend Dave) are brothers. I guess we are fairly typical brothers; you know we have to one up each other, sometimes fight with each other but just generally we get along pretty well. The only problem is both of us believe we have the biggest POS (piece of shiat) car there is. Hurricane Mikey asked me to write about my POS, and I assume he will write about his.

Now, I don’t have the “luxury” vehicle that Mikey does, so I may not have as many options on it that could go wrong, but I believe my POS is probably in worse shape than his sled; I’ve ridden in both.

My POS is 1991 Pontiac Grand Prix. This car came with the wife when we got married and somehow she has the nice vehicle and I ended up with Red. We call it red for obvious reasons, it is bright fire engine-arrest me-I’m speeding while sitting still-Go Dale Jr. go-red, or at least it was and some parts of it still are. I keep on telling my wife that I want to paint a white number 8 on the side and drive it to the next race at Talladega, but I don’t know if it’d make it there, must less back.

We can start with Red’s exterior. As I mentioned above, some of it is still red, while the other parts are red without the clear coat on it. It literally flakes off just like dead skin when you have a really bad sunburn. It’s almost as much fun to peel it off (my favorite pastime while filling up with gas). Of course Red came with a spoiler that is so faded out now I’m not sure if it’s burnt orange. There are the numerous dings and scratches along with the front air dam that we’ve managed to crack on both sides, so that it just doesn’t catch when you pull to close to those parking curbs, but it completely folds over. That might explain why the fog lights don’t work. The windshield doesn’t have any of those long cracks in the glass, it has two spots where it looks like someone threw a baseball at it, and those both came from dump trucks driving down the road.

My favorite parts of Red’s exterior are the two door handles. I believe I’ve replaced the driver’s side handle at least 5 times in the past couple of years; it always breaks. Just recently I’ve been fortunate enough that the passenger side broke. I have replaced the driver’s side handle within the past couple of months and for some reason it doesn’t quite work right. You have to push in the trim while pulling out on the handle to get the door open (kind of like jiggling the toilet handle to get the commode to stop running).

You can lock the door from the inside manually; the automatic locks will only lock the passenger side door. The key will not unlock the door from the outside and with the passenger side handle that is broken you have to be a little careful. The real fun with the door handles is when for some reason the door decides to lock itself. When that happens, I have to climb into the trunk of the car (the key still opens that), push the armrest for the seat down and take a five foot long pole and manually push the lock open while someone else is pulling on the door handle. What makes this so much fun is the small trunk with the good Reverend in it, me being 6’3”, 230 pounds. I’m not sure which is harder, trying to unlock the door with pole, or me trying to get my big ass out of the trunk. A couple of times I thought we were going to have to call the fire department and bring some Vaseline.

The interior of the car is about what you’d expect, especially a car that is 15 years old and driven by a couple of smokers. Yep, there are a few cigarette burns in the seat, on the floor, the door trim and headliner. The radio works most of the time, depending on how rough the road is. It seems to want to turn on or off and change the volume over every little bump. It has a power antenna that goes up most of the time, but on those cold mornings it only goes up about 6 inches (the car must be male!).

The dashboard is like watching a video game with all of the lights and things that are on most of the time. The low fuel light is always on along with the check-gauges light. The low coolant light is on all of the time, unless it is flashing and the check engine light comes on going down a hill and turns off only when you gas it. I wish I was making up some of this, but it is all true. Just recently, the trip odometer has stopped working properly; when you reset it, only the last two numbers will reset, and not the first one.

The dome light doesn’t work anymore. I’ve replaced the bulbs a couple of times and still nothing. The only interior lights that work are the ones in the doors, and even though the passenger side handle is broken, when you pull on it, the interior door lights come on. I’m not sure what to think of that. With all of these little electrical gremlins, I wonder if some out-of-work engineer from Jaguar went to work for Pontiac.

While Red has a number of faults, one thing remains constant; it doesn’t matter how many parts on the exhaust system that are replaced, or how much money you spend on it, Red just wants to be heard. It is the loudest car for one with a full exhaust system that I’ve ever heard. We’ve had it worked on so many times and just about everything has been replaced and it still ridiculously loud. There is nothing like the sound of a 3.2 liter, six cylinder, dual exhaust, automatic transmission car running down the road. My only guess is there are some engine pieces rattling around in the catalytic converter.

The engine actually isn’t that bad for a car with 149,000 miles on it. Of course it leaks oil, but it only does it for a week or so after you change the oil. That was a simple fix; I just don’t change the oil anymore. I guess Red thinks he needs to purge like a supermodel after becoming full. Of course belts, alternators, thermostats and other parts like that have been replaced, but it hasn’t been too bad. The transmission doesn’t slip, but you can tell it is a little loose.

Overall, Red has been a good car, but it’s time to part ways. I didn’t trade it in, so it still sits in the driveway, but it will be for sale soon. I doubt there will be any takers, so I’m thinking about donating it and taking a tax deduction on the retail value of the car; I’d probably come out ahead.

Unfortunately, I've never had the pleasure of riding in Red. Whenever I've been visiting, we always drover around in his Mountaineer. But now that you've heard about Dave's car, here's the lowdown on the Ghetto Sled:

I drive a 1994 Lincoln Continental that has about 143,000 miles on it, so it's a bit newer than ol' Red. I will admit that my paint job still looks decent, although it's fading a bit, especially around the trunk. And being twelve years old, it's got it's fair share of dings and scratches, but the only noticeable dent is on the lower half of the front driver's side door acquired when some redneck chick in an uninsured Camaro decided to run a red light and T-boned me one rainy morning back in Nashville.

Mechanically, it's pretty sound, as just before I moved to Vegas I put it in the shop for a week and dropped about a thousand bucks getting things fixed. It's got new brakes all around, new belts and hoses, and a new battery. Due to my misadventures pulling a trailer on the way out here to Vegas, it's got a new $2000 transmission in it, too.

Unfortunately, it's got a few chronic problems. Instead of a normal spring-and-shock suspension, the geniuses at Lincoln decided to give it an air suspension instead. That means I've got an air pump and hoses leading to giant rubber balloons in all four corners that inflate and deflate depending on road conditions, or more likely, just whenever the hell it damn well feels like it. For awhile it was always the highlight of my day to be driving down the freeway normally, then all of the sudden the front end would lower to about an inch off the pavement and the back end would inflate, raising the trunk about four feet off the ground. The front end looked like a Mexican lowrider, while the back end was reminiscent of a cat in heat. Of course, as soon as I'd turn off the engine it would reset back to normal, so occasionally I'd be hoping for a nearby red light. Luckily, somebody that specializes in that sort of repair saw me parked at the Opry Mills Mall one night and left a business card on the windshield.

I called him up a few weeks later, and he actually brought all the parts with him in his truck and replaced the struts while the car was sitting in my driveway. Well worth the $700 repair bill. Unfortunately, one of the new struts failed a few months later out here in Vegas, leaving me with another $700 bill. Because of that failure, when it happened, I shredded a tire on damn near the hottest day of the year. Luckily I made it into the frying-pan parking lot at Albertsons to get it off the road.

But that's where the tragedy turns to comedy, because while lying on my back sizzling like bacon while trying to change the tire the unfortunate realizaton struck that the idiots back at the Sears Auto Center back in Franklin Tennessee never gave me back the key to my wheel locks after they did the brake job. So instead of simply changing the tire and driving the car to the shop to get a new strut installed, I had to hire a flat-bed tow truck to deliver it for me, plus I had to get the locks drilled off of my trendy lace luxury wheels. However, after a mere $1500, I think I've finally got that bug exterminated.

Luckily the Sled doesn't leak oil, but it drinks power steering fluid and antifreeze like a hyperactive kid drinks red Kool-Aid. About once a month, every drop of power steering fluid just falls out of the pump. It drives along just fine, doesn't leak at all (until of course I park in the driveway--then it leaks every time. If I park the car in the gravel turnaround down at the entrance gate, it won't leak a drop), then suddenly after a few weeks, I'll turn on the engine and hear the familiar groaning squeal. But I keep a bottle of power steering fluid in the trunk at all times, so I'll pour some in and everything is fine for a few more weeks. I haven't quite figured out the issue with the radiator yet.

Once last summer I overheated while driving to work at the Golden Gate and had to pull into that same 7-11 where Doc Al and I saw the cops handcuffing perps to the grills of their cars. So I poured some water in, and I keep antifreeze on hand, and just like the power steering fluid, I have to check it every few weeks. But I'm always paranoid that it's going to overheat on me at the worst possible time.

The worst thing wrong with the car, as far as I'm concerned is that the compressor for the air conditioner is shot. I went to have it replaced, but there is another part that needs to be replaced, bringing the total repair bill to something north of $800. Sorry, but that's more than the blue book value of the car, so I refuse to get it fixed. I'm either gonna sweat this summer, or get a new truck.

Having had a black 280 ZX for years in Phoenix with no AC, I was prepared to sweat, but that leads me to the next issue with the sled, the windows. Being a fine luxury car, it's got electric windows all around, plus a sunroof. Unfortunately, the passenger's side window in front is off track and won't go up and down properly. So naturally I keep it in the 'up' position, but it makes a nice whistling noise once you get over about 30 mph. I've had it fixed twice, at $40 each time, but after a few weeks it pops off track again, so I've just stopped getting it fixed. The window on my side won't go up and down unless I use two hands. One to hold the button down and one to either pull the window down or pull it back up. If I pull it up, it won't go all the way closed--it stops about an inch short. If I want it completely closed, I have to get out-with the engine running, push the button with my right hand and reach over the top of the door with my left hand, lay it flat against the glass, and try to force it to the top. That's always fun. On the plus side, I don't visit the drive-thru windows at fast food restaurants anymore.

At least the rear windows and the sunroof still work.

I too have a few of the electrical gremlins that plague Dave's 'Red'. The 'Door Ajar' light never goes off, and the 'Service' light is always on until the engine warms up. But I think my favorite thing is how sometimes I'll be driving down the road and the 'Door Ajar' light starts flashing, the alarm goes off and the electric locks cycle themselves up and down a few times. It only gets annoying when the alarm keeps going off, but luckily that doesn't happen too often.

The thing that baffles the valet parkers in this town, however, is the gear shift lever. It's an automatic transmission, of course, but the shift selector isn't on the column, it's between the seats. But the button that you press with your thumb to move the stick out of Park has a wild spring behind it and keeps shooting the button out of the handle. So I fixed it by putting a black nylon sunglass bag that happens to be the exact width of the handle over the top of it to keep the button in place. Every time I get it back from the valet, however, they've always got the bag taken off and the handle on backwards. For whatever reason they can't figure out to just leave it alone.

Of course, I had a nice stereo/cd player installed before I left Nashville, too. Unfortunately, I had an occasional crackle in the door speaker on the drivers side (I'm guessing this, and the fact that the window doesn't work has something to do with getting T-boned). But that's a moot point now that somebody broke into the car last summer and stole my faceplate while trying to steal the radio. So in addition to having no AC, I have no tunes, either.

But like Jules told the Wolf, other than that, the car is tip-top.

At least I still have my fuzzy dice hanging from the mirror.

I really want to get a new truck pretty soon, and I'm leaning towards a Dodge Durango. Once I get that purchase made, maybe then we can argue about who's got the nicer truck.

Mikey

Google Takes a Hit

Well, since I posted my discussion on OEX options I've gotten some interesting responses, most prescient from 'The Shadow' saying to buy puts on Google--which is down about $35 per share today. Nice call, brotha.

Sorry Sean. The strategy of buying Google isn't exactly working out, as an $18000 investment would be down almost two grand today, had someone bought it at the open on Monday. The OEX, while down 5 points today to 581, is still well above my 'panic' price of 560.

If I had some extra cash to spend, I'd be looking pretty hard at Genentech April 85 calls. They're down about $ .90 today. $3.90 per contract actually looks pretty juicy (that's the ask price as I write this). We'll see how this one turns out over the next few days--I wouldn't hold it until expiration, this is a total speculative move--but it's one I'd be willing to gamble on.

Mikey

Nothing On TV

Yep, I'm still bored and there is nothing on tv, so I figured I'd do one of those 'Imagination Prompts' that I talked about in the last post. At least my brain isn't going to turn to mush while I convalesce. One of the topics that got spit out was to list 10 titles for your own autobiography. That's a pretty cool exercise that got me thinking, so in no particular order, here goes:

1. I Had A Good Time Anyways
   
2. Too Much Wind - The Collected Writings of Hurricane Mikey
3. Somewhere Beyond the Sea
4. The Neon Peon - My Life in Las Vegas
5. From Solid Ground to the Open Ocean, and All the Quicksand In Between
6. Caribbean Soul - The Years of Rum, Sunsets, and Cigars
   
7. Finishing the Puzzle When the Picture Keeps Changing
8. King of the Green Felt Jungle
9. Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Goofiness
10. Hurricane Mikey Struck This Island - Sailing Around the World with a Mildy Famous Raconteur

Actually, once I wrote out the list, it seems like most of those titles could be chapter headings of a much bigger book.

Damn, I've got some writing to do.

Mikey

Blue Monday

The bug is back. I was feeling fine for the past few weeks, and then on Friday night, it hit me again. Whatever crud that is going around this town--and lots of people I know are afflicted with it--made another appearance. I muddled through, but was so sick on Saturday night that I went home four hours early, and called in sick last night. The drugs are helping, but not much.

I feel like shiat again today, but this morning I was finally able to eat something--I made breakfast of eggs, toast, grits, and coffee, and I feel a little better. I'd been subsisting on 7-Up and chicken soup for the past few days, but solid food and hot coffee seem to be doing the trick. As soon as my insurance paperwork is processed this week, I'm going to make a doctor's appointment, have him prescribe me some powerful antibiotics, and maybe I'll be fine once and for all.

I'd planned on doing some more writing yesterday, but I sat here and stared at a blank screen for hours trying to find inspiration. I know what I wanted to say, but couldn't figure out how to say it. That's a different kind of writer's block altogether. And it's tough to cobble together some good writing when you're feeling poorly, anyways.

Sometimes, when this happens, there's a good tool out there for writers called an 'Imagination Prompt Generator' which helps, and it gave me a few good ideas, but for the most part it seemed to be geared to the Oprah crowd. Lots of 'A bowl of oranges makes me feel...' type of nonsense. I did, however, write down about 15 good ideas, and discovered that I have an affinity for making lists. At least the topics that appealed to me were of the 'List 5 things.... and why' type. So if you see happen to read some posts of that ilk, you'll know I was bored at the time.

Right now I'm bored and sick, so we've got the double whammy going.

I think I'll go back to bed.

Mikey

Anniversary

I just realized that it was one year ago today that I arrived in Las Vegas. I'll have complete thoughts posted by Monday.

Mikey