I just took a bath!
Lemme esplain...
First of all--good news. Not only did all of the shirts arrive yesterday, I stayed up this morning packing and labelling them for shipping. And just a few minutes ago I left the post office. Everyone who sent checks, your shirts are on the way! (I'm still waiting for money for three orders, so once I get the money for them, your shirts will be shipped, too). Anyhow, I'd say that while the shirts are very cool, my first foray into the t-shirt business was less than successful--I completely misunderestimated the cost of materials and shipping, so I took that expense directly in the shorts.
Anybody that wants a shirt in the future, the price is going up.
But it only stung for a little while, so no real harm done. Anyhow, they went out Priority Mail, so everyone should be getting them by Tuesday of next week. I could've saved a couple of bucks sending them Parcel Post, but I figured everyone would want them as soon as they could, and saving fifteen cents a shirt to delay receipt for another five days seemed an especially cheapass thing to do, so I opted for the faster route.
As cool as the t-shirts are, the baseball jerseys look especially good. Those that ordered them are going to be even more impressed.
And of course if you'd like to snap a photo of yourself modeling your new shirt, sent it along and I'll make you mildly famous.
As far as the internet-at-home situation goes, it's still not resolved. It's not a bad modem, but the Cox suckers tell us that we have a bad 'hub' coming into the house. They have to send a technician out to fix it--but that won't be until at least Sunday. So I'm back at the same noisy internet cafe place I was yesterday, which by the way, they should change the name from Cyber Zone and start calling it Your Parents Basement--nobody would be the wiser.
That means I won't be answering emails until sometime next week, and I probably won't be blogging at all until Monday at the earliest. Then it's off on a little vacation for a couple of days.
Pay no attention to the tumbleweeds around here for the next few days--I'll be back soon.
Mikey
Friday, August 18, 2006
Thursday, August 17, 2006
And Speaking Of Old and Busted...
We haven't had internet access at The Estate since at least 3 am this morning. The whole cable system went down around 7 pm last night, as previously mentioned, but we got sporadic service back around 11 pm. I went to bed at midnight, woke up three hours later, and tried to use the computer.
But there was no internet, and it's been that way ever since. The tv is working fine, but we're getting no signal to the modem. I can't figure out why, and I can't call Cox because my name isn't on the account, so they refuse to even acknowledge that there is a problem unless the accountholder calls in a complaint. So who knows when I'll be able to use the internet from home again. I left a note for my roommate, and he's usually pretty good about getting stuff fixed when he's around, but he just hasn't been around much lately.
I'm currently blogging from a very noisy internet 'cafe' across the street from the UNLV campus that I utilized last year before I got the cable modem. It's full of World of Warcraft geeks and anime pervs who think tentacle porn cartoons are the coolest thing going, so it's a little annoying to be here. And I don't own a sword, so I really don't fit in with this crowd. But I had to check the mail and such, and since I paid for two hours worth of time, I figured I should let everyone know why blogging may be light for the next couple of days. (I still have to move my computer anyways--it's still in the 'greenhouse' room) .
Also, I want to thank everyone for their generosity with the tip jar--there have been a few donations that caught me by surprise, and I want everyone to know that it's appreciated. Amazon does an *excellent* job of protecting your privacy, so I have no idea who the donors are. But I thank you all!
In the meantime, it's back to work tonight for another five days of casino action. But I have something to look forward to. By the time my next day off rolls around, I'll be on my way to Phoenix.
Mikey
But there was no internet, and it's been that way ever since. The tv is working fine, but we're getting no signal to the modem. I can't figure out why, and I can't call Cox because my name isn't on the account, so they refuse to even acknowledge that there is a problem unless the accountholder calls in a complaint. So who knows when I'll be able to use the internet from home again. I left a note for my roommate, and he's usually pretty good about getting stuff fixed when he's around, but he just hasn't been around much lately.
I'm currently blogging from a very noisy internet 'cafe' across the street from the UNLV campus that I utilized last year before I got the cable modem. It's full of World of Warcraft geeks and anime pervs who think tentacle porn cartoons are the coolest thing going, so it's a little annoying to be here. And I don't own a sword, so I really don't fit in with this crowd. But I had to check the mail and such, and since I paid for two hours worth of time, I figured I should let everyone know why blogging may be light for the next couple of days. (I still have to move my computer anyways--it's still in the 'greenhouse' room) .
Also, I want to thank everyone for their generosity with the tip jar--there have been a few donations that caught me by surprise, and I want everyone to know that it's appreciated. Amazon does an *excellent* job of protecting your privacy, so I have no idea who the donors are. But I thank you all!
In the meantime, it's back to work tonight for another five days of casino action. But I have something to look forward to. By the time my next day off rolls around, I'll be on my way to Phoenix.
Mikey
The Hits Just Keep On Coming
I was so happy that we finally got our water turned back on that I took a long leisurely shower and even left the faucet running while brushing my teeth. It was nice to be 'civilized' again. But it didn't last long. Earlier tonight somebody crashed into a pole down at the end of our street, knocking me off the internet and cutting off all cable tv to our entire neighborhood.
So I had to get up and leave my square-headed girlfriend alone for several hours, which wasn't actually a bad thing. It gave me a perfect excuse to get busy putting together that huge workstation/tower I bought last week.
Well, I started assembling the thing, but I swear the directions were written by morons. So many of the steps were out of order that it made no sense whatsoever, and even made it more difficult to put together. I got so frustrated after two hours that I finally gave up for the evening. Luckily, the hardest part is behind me, and I figure just another half hour or so of concentrated effort will get me across the finish line. But if I'd stuck with it straight through, I doubtless would've killed somebody with a screwdriver.
The problem wasn't with the directions as much as it was with the design--it's a cool looking tower when it's all finished, but in order to build it, you need two or three sets of hands and maybe some industrial clamps. It's just a complete pain in the ass--a maze of free-standing parts that have to all click together at once, or the whole thing topples. And it toppled several times. And it's not a lightweight piece of furniture, either. It weighs a ton. And a ton of uncooperative particle board and veneer was just about enough to put me over the edge tonight. Not only that, but the screws needed to attach metal to wood are always in an inaccessable spot--you rip your knuckles on other screws and bolts when trying to make mechanical connections in the order designated by the instruction manual. I swear it'd be easier to rewire an old British sports car with no tools but a coat hanger and a roll of duct tape.
I finally gave up, figuring that I'd finish up tomorrow morning. I'm fairly certain that I used my daily allotment of swear words, anyways.
After throwing in the towel, I sat back down at the computer to see if the internet was available. It was--the cable is back on, the tv works, and the water is flowing. But I'm guessing that our electricity will probably go out tomorrow.
Mikey
So I had to get up and leave my square-headed girlfriend alone for several hours, which wasn't actually a bad thing. It gave me a perfect excuse to get busy putting together that huge workstation/tower I bought last week.
Well, I started assembling the thing, but I swear the directions were written by morons. So many of the steps were out of order that it made no sense whatsoever, and even made it more difficult to put together. I got so frustrated after two hours that I finally gave up for the evening. Luckily, the hardest part is behind me, and I figure just another half hour or so of concentrated effort will get me across the finish line. But if I'd stuck with it straight through, I doubtless would've killed somebody with a screwdriver.
The problem wasn't with the directions as much as it was with the design--it's a cool looking tower when it's all finished, but in order to build it, you need two or three sets of hands and maybe some industrial clamps. It's just a complete pain in the ass--a maze of free-standing parts that have to all click together at once, or the whole thing topples. And it toppled several times. And it's not a lightweight piece of furniture, either. It weighs a ton. And a ton of uncooperative particle board and veneer was just about enough to put me over the edge tonight. Not only that, but the screws needed to attach metal to wood are always in an inaccessable spot--you rip your knuckles on other screws and bolts when trying to make mechanical connections in the order designated by the instruction manual. I swear it'd be easier to rewire an old British sports car with no tools but a coat hanger and a roll of duct tape.
I finally gave up, figuring that I'd finish up tomorrow morning. I'm fairly certain that I used my daily allotment of swear words, anyways.
After throwing in the towel, I sat back down at the computer to see if the internet was available. It was--the cable is back on, the tv works, and the water is flowing. But I'm guessing that our electricity will probably go out tomorrow.
Mikey
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Schadenfreude
(shäd
n-froi
d
)n. Pleasure derived from the misfortune of others
I was surfing the net this afternoon, and I made my way to the Review-Journal website, looking for the results in yesterday's primary elections.
Since I had a Republican ballot, I had no idea who was running for what on the other side of the aisle. But as I was perusing the results, I saw something mildly entertaining.
It seems that Democratic candidate and 'Vegas Legend' Bob Stupak came in fourth place in his bid to become the next Lieutenant Governor of the Great State of Nevada, right behind Bob Unger, Bob Goodman, and None Of These Candidates. It appears that the Democrat voters would rather have NOBODY as Lt. Governor than have this goof in office. And they are absolutely right.
What a farking tool.
Yes, it would seem that I might have an unreasonable dislike for Stupak, but only because I've seen the man in action, and compared to people like Jay Sarno or Steve Wynn, he's a complete poseur with no talent. His ideas don't add value or create greatness--he's just one of those casino owners looking to fleece as many people as possible. Granted, the main reason to go into business is to make a buck, and I have no problem with that, but just talking to the man--and I've met him in person--he just oozes more cheesy dishonesty than the worst used-car salesman you can possibly imagine.
Maybe I'm naive, but I expect politicians to serve me--and I can't imagine that Stupak being in public office would be anything more than a way for him to line his pockets.
Vegas Legend my ass. The man is a loser and always will be.
Mikey
A Few Pictures
Ok--I finally got a few pictures from Angy for your viewing enjoyment.
Your humble scribe picking up chicks in the Paris pool
Angy modeling her newest accessory
Another view. Notice the cool vehicle in the background
Mikey in the cabana, doing my best impersonation of that Memorex commercial from the 80's
New Hotness, Old and Busted
The quintessential Vegas photo op
Angy can never resist an opportunity to snap a picture of my backside
I think Angy has some more, and will likely post them as part of a trip report over on Vegasmessageboard.com later in the week.
Mikey
Miracle!
Finally--the drought is over! While surfing the net this afternoon, I heard the dog going nuts in the front room. I went out to see what the commotion was, and the plumbing truck was parked out in the driveway. He (the plumber, not the dog) spent about a half hour replacing pipes in the front yard, and just shy of 30 hours after losing all water pressure, we were back in business.Good thing, too. I was starting to get a little ripe. I can finally take a real shower instead of those 'hooker baths' I was doing with the residual water from the filter tank under the kitchen sink.
Seriously, I'm such a puss. Although I love to go camping and such, experiences from this past year have taught me that I can't go very long without running (or hot) water. I would've never made it a hundred and fifty years ago.
Mikey
Reverend Dave
It seems that the Good Reverend is back from exile and blogging again. He's especially entertaining if you're one of those degenerates addicted to golf. But if not, his experience with installing a new pool is a fun read, too.
Mikey
Mikey
What a Week!
It's hard to believe that it's already been a week since my latest excursion into the world of Vegas buffoonery, but time really does fly when you're having fun.
It all started last Tuesday night. I wrote that the plan was to meet up with Skip, aka SoreEyes, down at the Main Street Station. Well, I got down there at 7pm, left the truck in the capable hands of the valet and ambled through the Main Street Station for the first time since that gathering of buffoons back in the middle of the night last March highlighted by Marty prancing around in Angy's Imperial Palace bathrobe. Just walking in the doors of the casino gave me a little blast from the past and put a smile on my face.
But when I walked over to the brew pub, standing outside was not Skip, but Chris, aka HabanaMan. It seems that they have very similar-sounding names/email addresses, so I got them confused. Perhaps I should pay more attention to the emails I get...
Anyhow, he introduced me to his younger brother, whose name escapes me at the moment, but had just recently turned 21 and was a Vegas Virgin, and the three of us went inside and got a table. Dinner was excellent--I had that same bbq bacon cheeseburger I had last March, Chris got a prime rib, and his brother opted for the 4-cheese pizza.
Chris insisted on covering the check, which was cool, but I insisted on providing dessert--I'd brought an assortment of cigars from the ol' humidor to share. After paying the tab and making a pilgrimmage to the Berlin Wall, we found an open Pai Gow table.
The three of us took our seats, broke out the cigars, and ordered drinks. Unfortunately the dealer was hot, getting two pair or better on damn near every hand, and I burned through almost a hundred bucks in quick order. But the conversation was excellent, as were the cigars. Unfortunately, some jackass decided to join us and immediately started bitching about the cigar smoke, even going so far as to pull his shirt up over his nose while he was sitting there. Of course, we weren't being rude, and going out of our way to blow the smoke away from him. But hello, dumbass, don't walk up to a table with three guys smoking cigars and then start complaining that the smoke is bothering you--you'll find no sympathy.
But the cards were so cold that we decided to just get out of there. We piled into the truck and headed out to Boulder Highway for the low-limit white-trash goodness of Boulder Station. Unfortunately, it was more of the same, except my cards were so bad that it was almost comical. It started out well, as I had $3 on the Fortune Bonus on my third hand, plus a buck up for the dealer, and I got four deuces! Nice hit. But it was all downhill from there, and I burned through another $150 before finally waving the white flag of surrender. I think Chris only lost about $40, if I recall, but his brother didn't win a single hand. He had the comment of the night after getting wiped out first--
You guys are chumps! At least I never had to pay a commission...
Although we were having a good time, the gambling just wasn't happening for us. I knew I had to get up earlier than usual the next morning to pick up Angy at the airport, so we decided to call it a night. They were staying at the Wynn, but since Chris' brother had a huge two-page list of Things To Do, I dropped them off at Mandalay Bay for a little bit of sightseeing and a quick game of Spot the Hooker. I drove home and went to bed, my wallet being lighter to the tune of $200+.
The first thing the next morning I had to take my roommate to the bank and such, as his vehicle was being repaired. As soon as I got back, I checked flightview.com and saw that Angy's flight was arriving a half-hour early, about five minutes away. I jumped back in the truck, stopped at the gas station to top off the tank and drive it through the car wash, and picked up a Diet Coke for her and a Diet Coke with Lime for me. As soon as I got to the baggage claim, she was standing there alone with her suitcase.
Not only did her flight land early, the luggage had already arrived and everyone else had gone. She said she'd only been waiting about ten minutes though. But we loaded it up--size and number of suitcases no longer being an issue due to the fact that I now have a pickup truck, instead of a beater car with a trunkload of spare parts. I popped in the traditional picking-Angy-up-at-the-airport cd, ABBA's Greatest Hits, and we were on our way to the strip. I long-hauled her through the tunnel, due to the heavy traffic on Tropicana, and shortly thereafter we were unloading at the Paris valet.
There was no line at the registration desk at 11 am, so Angy got out her ID, credit card, and a $20 bill. I gave the clerk her ID and such, slid the twenty over and politely asked if there was an upgrade available. He said that he'd certainly try to find one. After a few minutes of typing away, he told us that we could get an executive suite on the 27th floor. Unfortunately, it was non-smoking and offered a king bed only. She needed a room with two queens because her sister would be arriving the next day, and of course Angy can't be in Vegas without a cigarette in her hand, so that was two big Unlucky Strikes. Nothing else was available, except a huge upgrade to another type of suite that would cost another $80 per night, so we declined. The clerk was well-mannered enough to return the twenty spot for coming up empty, so we gave him a ten-spot for the effort. She ended up just taking a standard room on the fourth floor overlooking the pool and Eiffel tower, but it wouldn't be ready for a couple more hours.
We decided that we wanted to have lunch--but nothing too fancy. We were hoping for the cafe there at Paris, but the line was too long. And Le Provencal wasn't open yet. We also knew that Mon Ami Gabi still wasn't open either, and we really wanted to get started because the priority of the day was to get out to the BMW dealership out in Henderson so Angy could test drive that Nissan 350Z Roadster she was hoping to buy.
I suggested that we head out to Green Valley and eat someplace at The District, the Elephant Bar came to mind, as it was actually on the way to the dealership. Angy agreed, and we headed away from the Strip. While sitting at the stoplight outside of GVR, we noticed the Cheesecake Factory on the left, so we decided to go there instead.
We'd beaten the lunch rush and were seated immediately. Instead of a huge meal, we decided to just get drinks and appetizers. The first order of business was ordering some fu-fu drink called a Flying Monkey or something like that. It was some sort of banana-liqueur based milkshake that was damn good. We both agreed that we really liked it, but decided that getting liquored up before going out test driving an expensive car probably wouldn't be the prudent thing to do, so after that it was just ice water the rest of the meal.
We ordered some crab rangoon, an order of avocado egg rolls, and some spinach-artichoke dip. The avocado rolls were easily the best, the dip had almost no cheese in it, and the crab puffs were waaaaay too fishy--the crabs tasted like they were just about to turn, kind of like the tinge of sweetness you get just before the milk goes bad. Ick. I'd say it was a less than stellar meal from the Cheesecake Factory, although dessert made up for it. I had the coffee Heath Bar crunch cheesecake, and I forgot which variety Angy had, but both were excellent. The tab wasn't too bad, but we left there thinking that Grand Luxe is still a much better restaurant.
After that we headed to the BMW dealership for the test drive. The car was parked right there in front, but neither of the salesmen that Angy had been corresponding with for the previous three weeks were available. They finally scrounged up somebody to help us, and Angy took off on her test drive while I hung around in the lobby looking at cars I could never afford.
They got back a little while later, but she insisted that I take it for a drive to get a second opinion. She's used to driving a Jeep Grand Cherokee every day, so a little sportscar with a tight turning radius, short wheelbase, and a low profile was a new experience for her. I took it out for a spin and loved it. I drove it like it was meant to be driven, and came back with a pretty big grin on my face.
We sat down at the desk while the sales toad went back to 'get the numbers'. She'd done her research, and we'd already talked about what her final walk-away price was, and they were several thousand dollars away from it.
After finally writing it down on their offer sheet, circling it and writing TOTAL PRICE OUT THE DOOR, they made another unreasonable offer or two, prompting us to head for the door. They finally said they'd do the deal but for a hundred bucks more than our written offer. Again we headed for the door, but they finally relented. I'm sure the salesman absolutely hated me, because he figured Angy would be a pushover who really wanted the car and he thought he could talk her into whatever price he wanted, but that was not the case. We took a hard line and stuck to it, and Angy saved almost $4000 from their initial offering price. Unfortunately, we wasted a couple of hours doing that song and dance.
Once the deal was struck and they went off to process the paperwork, we told them that we'd be leaving for awhile and come back to pick up the car. We went back to my house to change clothes--it was a hot day and we were all sweaty and nasty by that time--and to pick up some booze for the hotel room. Angy put on her sexy little Hurricane Mikey tank top and we headed back to the dealer. For whatever reason, the new shirt really put the salesman off of his game and he couldn't concentrate. We figured that if she would've just worn that down there in the first place, we wouldn't have wasted so much time negotiating. But they got all the paperwork done in short order, washed the car and gassed it up. Angy followed me back to my place and the sun was just starting to set, making it easier to take decent pictures.
My camera is basically worthless now--you have to beat on it to get it to work, so all of the pics are on Angy's camera (and those pics should be arriving some time this afternoon once she wakes up after her epic cross-country road trip). My old-ass roommate thinks that Angy is the hottest thing going so he was out there in the driveway lusting over both her and the car, giving me a good laugh...
I also presented her with another surprise--she said that she's going to get vanity plates that say BCHCRZY, so I had a babydoll t-shirt made with this on the front:
Needless to say, she loved it.
I packed a small overnight bag with swim trunks and such, grabbed some cd's from the truck, and we took the new car back towards the Strip. The sun was going down behind the western mountains, and the dusky twilight provided the perfect atmosphere for us to drive down Las Vegas Boulevard with the top down listening to Elvis tunes.
We got back to Paris, dropped off the car, and got the room keys. The room was nice, and I have to admit that besides the more expensive rooms at the Venetian,TheHotel at Mandalay Bay, Rio, and some of the new towers at Caesars, Paris has the nicest rooms in Vegas, at least that I've experienced. (They don't allow people like me into the Four Seasons...)
As a side note--I used to think that Mirage was the greatest hotel in all of Vegas, but with all of the changes, I'm beginning to think that it may not be the case any longer. I've stayed at Paris a couple times now, and overall I think that I like it even more than the Mirage. I know, blasphemy...
Anyhow, we unloaded our stuff, mixed a few drinks and had some snacks to take the edge off. Lunch was pretty filling, but we ate early and didn't want to have to eat dinner. We relaxed for awhile, waiting for it to get completely dark so that we could take full advantage of the convertible in working on our neon tans. After about an hour or so of answering and sending random text messages to our absent compatriots, we headed back downstairs. Angy's nephew was in town with a friend, and they agreed to meet us downstairs at the 'Hooker Bar'--I'm sure that's not the official name, but that's what we've been calling it for the past couple of years. We had a couple of rounds, telling stories and having a few laughs before heading out. Being a dumbass, I agreed to go back out to Boulder Station to take another beating.
As much as I like the casino at Boulder Station--it's a great casino, just in a shitty location--I've never won a dime in the place. Not one dime, ever. We both lost a hundred bucks in less than a half an hour, and turned around and left. The drive back to the Strip was especially enjoyable in the new convertible, raising our coolness factor exponentially.
We got word that Vegas Jer was in town, and told us to meet him at the Paris dice tables around 10 pm. We got back and found him on a hot table with several green and black checks on his rail. We hung back waiting until the run was over a few minutes later. Jer cashed out and we tried to figure out where to go next. Angy and I, still smarting from our Boulder Highway Beat Down, were looking for low-limit blackjack. Jer just wanted to hang out. We all wanted to drink, so we figured on something within walking distance (and there was no way to get all three of us into the car, anyways).
We wandered through Bally's, but nothing looked promising. We stopped at a bar looking for fruity drinks, and while waiting for the bartender to make our huge pina coladas in souvenir glasses, all of the tv's suddenly changed over to the news coming out of London about the foiled terrorist attacks. That pretty much stopped most of the activity in the surrounding areas for a few minutes until everyone figured out that Nothing Bad Happened, and after that it was business as usual. We took our silly drinks and headed for the Barbary Coast. Jer gave the dice a run, basically breaking even, before we decided to just head on down to the Imperial Palace. It was a nice night for walking, and we had a pleasant slightly-buzzed walk down the Strip.
We finally settled in to a $10 'double deck' game, but it took us a few rounds before we realized what a joke that was. They had eight decks in a shuffling machine which spit out 104 cards at a time. Unfortunately, it was the only game in town, so to speak, so we stayed there instead of walking away in protest. Yeah, I guess we're part of the problem, but fun was the priority, not maximizing our advantage. We realized just how bad it was though, because every time we got a blackjack, they'd give us a string of Mardi Gras beads. On a regular shoe game, you should be getting about six blackjacks per hour. I sat at that table for over three hours and only got four snappers.
It took Angy almost two hours to lose her hundred bucks, but I was treading water pretty well. Jer started pretty hot, but got crushed.
We were playing in the Champagne Pit, but it was damn near impossible to get any champagne. Once I threatened to just stick my head in the fountain and suckle directly from the teat, the waitress finally brought some over. Good god, it was horrible. Angy was laughing her ass off watching the facial expressions of Jer and I as we drank that swill. And it didn't mix well with all of the other stuff we'd been drinking that night, either.
Once Angy and Jer left the table, I started to actually win, and started earning a few green chips for my effort. I more than quadrupled up, and decided to color up when a very annoying drunk couple sat down and started using the I've-never-heard-of-basic-strategy method. I went to the cage to trade in my black chips, and saw Jer at a 3-card poker table, and Angy was at the bar playing video poker and sipping on a Captain and Diet. I snuck up behind her and said Hey mama, would you come back to my hotel room with me for a hundred bucks? while simultaneously dropping a Benjamin in her lap. She said Hell yeah--Let's go! much to the amusement of the other folks at the bar.
We watched Jer for a few minutes, and he was lucky enough to win back all the money he lost at the blackjack table, plus a few hundred more. He colored up and we decided to go back to our home base and have some breakfast in the cafe. Unfortunately, I had a Margaritaville moment and blew out my flip-flop, so instead of walking, we coughed up six bucks for the cab ride to Paris.
A drunken Vegas breakfast at 5 am is always a great time, and this was no different. Jer and I both had steak and eggs, while Angy had French toast. We were exhausted, and I couldn't even come close to finishing my meal. Angy still had $90 worth of vouchers good at any Harrah's-owned restaurant, so breakfast was free. Jer had to be back at the airport an hour later (he was only in town for about nine hours), so he opted to just wander the casino, but Angy and I headed back to the room for some much needed sleep.
The next thing I knew, it was 11:30 the next day and her sisters were dragging their luggage in and waking us up. Those blackout curtains really work--I thought it was only like 8:00 am. We finally crawled out of bed and got ready for the day--'the day' consisting of laying by the pool and drinking pina coladas.
And that's pretty much what we did all afternoon. Unfortunately, I had to work that night, so Angy drove me back home around 6 pm. She found her way back to the Strip and proceeded to have much more fun that night than I did.
We'd made plans to have lunch at the Wynn buffet the next day, but her and her sisters had waaaay too much fun the previous night, and I didn't hear from her until she got up out of bed that afternoon/evening around 5:00 pm. Of course, I couldn't afford to take any time off, so we firmed up plans to meet up early the next morning for our cabana day.
I got home at 4:30, hit the sack and got back up at 9:00 am. I showered, put on some pool clothes and headed back down to Paris. Angy, her sister Gail, and I went down to the pool and got our cabana at 10 am sharp. Of course I wish I had the pictures, but they are forthcoming. But the cabana was pretty cool--it had a tv, fridge, table, couch, and four chaise lounges, plus all the towels we'd ever need. It came stocked with fruit juice, bottled water, and soft drinks, and they said they'd be bringing a fruit basket around at 11. Angy and Gail went to the little shop to look at new bathing suits, while I turned on the tv and snoozed on the couch while our bikini-clad privatehottie waitress availed herself every five minutes or so making sure all of our legitimate needs were taken care of.
We ordered frozen fruity drinks, which were actually not very good, and also some lunch from the cafe--the smoked turkey wraps were absolutely delicious. Since the drinks weren't very good, Angy had the foresight to empty a couple of water bottles and refill them with rum, and we snuck them down to the cabana and made our own mixed drinks. Smart chick, that Angy!
In the midst of our drunken phone calls to more of our absent friends, Andrea showed up. I missed her bunches and it was great to see her again. It's funny because Andrea, Angy, and I are just about the most opposite three people on the planet, but when we get together we just click like the musketeers. It's probably a good thing that we can't get together more often, otherwise we'd just get into trouble. But this visit was more mellow than previous get-togethers, and we had a wonderful afternoon just hanging out, sipping drinks, and lounging by the pool. We still had our share of laughs--now that Andrea has a boyfriend, I told her that I wished she were twins so that I could have the single one. Or even better, she could be triplets and I'd get the other two to double up on me... And it was always worth a laugh whenever Angy did something goofy to say in a loud voice Knock it off mom, you're embarrassing me! because invariably people would look at us and scurry off speaking in hushed tones...
The day ended much too soon, and I had to go back to work. The sunshine and drinks had taken all of the energy out of me and it was all I could do to stay awake and make it through my entire shift that night. But I made it. I ended up sleeping away most of the day on Sunday, as did Angy and the girls due to their evening's worth of buffoonery at the Carnaval Court and Hogs & Heifers. At some point that day, Angy decided that instead of shipping the car home, she'd just drive it home by herself. I offered to make the drive with her, but she insisted that she could do it alone and didn't need to throw a wrench into my week.
So we had our farewell breakfast at the Peppermill on Monday morning, which I wrote about previously. She hit the road at about 1:00 in the afternoon and promised to call me as she made her way home. We talked a few times in the past day and a half, and she called me around 1:00 am this morning, saying that she was just a half hour away from home.
I'm glad she made it without a breakdown or any other incident.
But that brings us to today. The water still hasn't come on, but I see that my roommate is home, so I'm sure it'll get handled today. I just wish it would've happened last week when I had access to a nice bathroom with unlimited hot water at the hotel.
In the meantime, I think I'll try and get a little sleep. Maybe when I wake up the drought will be over.
Mikey
It all started last Tuesday night. I wrote that the plan was to meet up with Skip, aka SoreEyes, down at the Main Street Station. Well, I got down there at 7pm, left the truck in the capable hands of the valet and ambled through the Main Street Station for the first time since that gathering of buffoons back in the middle of the night last March highlighted by Marty prancing around in Angy's Imperial Palace bathrobe. Just walking in the doors of the casino gave me a little blast from the past and put a smile on my face.
But when I walked over to the brew pub, standing outside was not Skip, but Chris, aka HabanaMan. It seems that they have very similar-sounding names/email addresses, so I got them confused. Perhaps I should pay more attention to the emails I get...
Anyhow, he introduced me to his younger brother, whose name escapes me at the moment, but had just recently turned 21 and was a Vegas Virgin, and the three of us went inside and got a table. Dinner was excellent--I had that same bbq bacon cheeseburger I had last March, Chris got a prime rib, and his brother opted for the 4-cheese pizza.
Chris insisted on covering the check, which was cool, but I insisted on providing dessert--I'd brought an assortment of cigars from the ol' humidor to share. After paying the tab and making a pilgrimmage to the Berlin Wall, we found an open Pai Gow table.
The three of us took our seats, broke out the cigars, and ordered drinks. Unfortunately the dealer was hot, getting two pair or better on damn near every hand, and I burned through almost a hundred bucks in quick order. But the conversation was excellent, as were the cigars. Unfortunately, some jackass decided to join us and immediately started bitching about the cigar smoke, even going so far as to pull his shirt up over his nose while he was sitting there. Of course, we weren't being rude, and going out of our way to blow the smoke away from him. But hello, dumbass, don't walk up to a table with three guys smoking cigars and then start complaining that the smoke is bothering you--you'll find no sympathy.
But the cards were so cold that we decided to just get out of there. We piled into the truck and headed out to Boulder Highway for the low-limit white-trash goodness of Boulder Station. Unfortunately, it was more of the same, except my cards were so bad that it was almost comical. It started out well, as I had $3 on the Fortune Bonus on my third hand, plus a buck up for the dealer, and I got four deuces! Nice hit. But it was all downhill from there, and I burned through another $150 before finally waving the white flag of surrender. I think Chris only lost about $40, if I recall, but his brother didn't win a single hand. He had the comment of the night after getting wiped out first--
You guys are chumps! At least I never had to pay a commission...
Although we were having a good time, the gambling just wasn't happening for us. I knew I had to get up earlier than usual the next morning to pick up Angy at the airport, so we decided to call it a night. They were staying at the Wynn, but since Chris' brother had a huge two-page list of Things To Do, I dropped them off at Mandalay Bay for a little bit of sightseeing and a quick game of Spot the Hooker. I drove home and went to bed, my wallet being lighter to the tune of $200+.
The first thing the next morning I had to take my roommate to the bank and such, as his vehicle was being repaired. As soon as I got back, I checked flightview.com and saw that Angy's flight was arriving a half-hour early, about five minutes away. I jumped back in the truck, stopped at the gas station to top off the tank and drive it through the car wash, and picked up a Diet Coke for her and a Diet Coke with Lime for me. As soon as I got to the baggage claim, she was standing there alone with her suitcase.
Not only did her flight land early, the luggage had already arrived and everyone else had gone. She said she'd only been waiting about ten minutes though. But we loaded it up--size and number of suitcases no longer being an issue due to the fact that I now have a pickup truck, instead of a beater car with a trunkload of spare parts. I popped in the traditional picking-Angy-up-at-the-airport cd, ABBA's Greatest Hits, and we were on our way to the strip. I long-hauled her through the tunnel, due to the heavy traffic on Tropicana, and shortly thereafter we were unloading at the Paris valet.
There was no line at the registration desk at 11 am, so Angy got out her ID, credit card, and a $20 bill. I gave the clerk her ID and such, slid the twenty over and politely asked if there was an upgrade available. He said that he'd certainly try to find one. After a few minutes of typing away, he told us that we could get an executive suite on the 27th floor. Unfortunately, it was non-smoking and offered a king bed only. She needed a room with two queens because her sister would be arriving the next day, and of course Angy can't be in Vegas without a cigarette in her hand, so that was two big Unlucky Strikes. Nothing else was available, except a huge upgrade to another type of suite that would cost another $80 per night, so we declined. The clerk was well-mannered enough to return the twenty spot for coming up empty, so we gave him a ten-spot for the effort. She ended up just taking a standard room on the fourth floor overlooking the pool and Eiffel tower, but it wouldn't be ready for a couple more hours.
We decided that we wanted to have lunch--but nothing too fancy. We were hoping for the cafe there at Paris, but the line was too long. And Le Provencal wasn't open yet. We also knew that Mon Ami Gabi still wasn't open either, and we really wanted to get started because the priority of the day was to get out to the BMW dealership out in Henderson so Angy could test drive that Nissan 350Z Roadster she was hoping to buy.
I suggested that we head out to Green Valley and eat someplace at The District, the Elephant Bar came to mind, as it was actually on the way to the dealership. Angy agreed, and we headed away from the Strip. While sitting at the stoplight outside of GVR, we noticed the Cheesecake Factory on the left, so we decided to go there instead.
We'd beaten the lunch rush and were seated immediately. Instead of a huge meal, we decided to just get drinks and appetizers. The first order of business was ordering some fu-fu drink called a Flying Monkey or something like that. It was some sort of banana-liqueur based milkshake that was damn good. We both agreed that we really liked it, but decided that getting liquored up before going out test driving an expensive car probably wouldn't be the prudent thing to do, so after that it was just ice water the rest of the meal.
We ordered some crab rangoon, an order of avocado egg rolls, and some spinach-artichoke dip. The avocado rolls were easily the best, the dip had almost no cheese in it, and the crab puffs were waaaaay too fishy--the crabs tasted like they were just about to turn, kind of like the tinge of sweetness you get just before the milk goes bad. Ick. I'd say it was a less than stellar meal from the Cheesecake Factory, although dessert made up for it. I had the coffee Heath Bar crunch cheesecake, and I forgot which variety Angy had, but both were excellent. The tab wasn't too bad, but we left there thinking that Grand Luxe is still a much better restaurant.
After that we headed to the BMW dealership for the test drive. The car was parked right there in front, but neither of the salesmen that Angy had been corresponding with for the previous three weeks were available. They finally scrounged up somebody to help us, and Angy took off on her test drive while I hung around in the lobby looking at cars I could never afford.
They got back a little while later, but she insisted that I take it for a drive to get a second opinion. She's used to driving a Jeep Grand Cherokee every day, so a little sportscar with a tight turning radius, short wheelbase, and a low profile was a new experience for her. I took it out for a spin and loved it. I drove it like it was meant to be driven, and came back with a pretty big grin on my face.
We sat down at the desk while the sales toad went back to 'get the numbers'. She'd done her research, and we'd already talked about what her final walk-away price was, and they were several thousand dollars away from it.
After finally writing it down on their offer sheet, circling it and writing TOTAL PRICE OUT THE DOOR, they made another unreasonable offer or two, prompting us to head for the door. They finally said they'd do the deal but for a hundred bucks more than our written offer. Again we headed for the door, but they finally relented. I'm sure the salesman absolutely hated me, because he figured Angy would be a pushover who really wanted the car and he thought he could talk her into whatever price he wanted, but that was not the case. We took a hard line and stuck to it, and Angy saved almost $4000 from their initial offering price. Unfortunately, we wasted a couple of hours doing that song and dance.
Once the deal was struck and they went off to process the paperwork, we told them that we'd be leaving for awhile and come back to pick up the car. We went back to my house to change clothes--it was a hot day and we were all sweaty and nasty by that time--and to pick up some booze for the hotel room. Angy put on her sexy little Hurricane Mikey tank top and we headed back to the dealer. For whatever reason, the new shirt really put the salesman off of his game and he couldn't concentrate. We figured that if she would've just worn that down there in the first place, we wouldn't have wasted so much time negotiating. But they got all the paperwork done in short order, washed the car and gassed it up. Angy followed me back to my place and the sun was just starting to set, making it easier to take decent pictures.
My camera is basically worthless now--you have to beat on it to get it to work, so all of the pics are on Angy's camera (and those pics should be arriving some time this afternoon once she wakes up after her epic cross-country road trip). My old-ass roommate thinks that Angy is the hottest thing going so he was out there in the driveway lusting over both her and the car, giving me a good laugh...
I also presented her with another surprise--she said that she's going to get vanity plates that say BCHCRZY, so I had a babydoll t-shirt made with this on the front:
Needless to say, she loved it.
I packed a small overnight bag with swim trunks and such, grabbed some cd's from the truck, and we took the new car back towards the Strip. The sun was going down behind the western mountains, and the dusky twilight provided the perfect atmosphere for us to drive down Las Vegas Boulevard with the top down listening to Elvis tunes.
We got back to Paris, dropped off the car, and got the room keys. The room was nice, and I have to admit that besides the more expensive rooms at the Venetian,TheHotel at Mandalay Bay, Rio, and some of the new towers at Caesars, Paris has the nicest rooms in Vegas, at least that I've experienced. (They don't allow people like me into the Four Seasons...)
As a side note--I used to think that Mirage was the greatest hotel in all of Vegas, but with all of the changes, I'm beginning to think that it may not be the case any longer. I've stayed at Paris a couple times now, and overall I think that I like it even more than the Mirage. I know, blasphemy...
Anyhow, we unloaded our stuff, mixed a few drinks and had some snacks to take the edge off. Lunch was pretty filling, but we ate early and didn't want to have to eat dinner. We relaxed for awhile, waiting for it to get completely dark so that we could take full advantage of the convertible in working on our neon tans. After about an hour or so of answering and sending random text messages to our absent compatriots, we headed back downstairs. Angy's nephew was in town with a friend, and they agreed to meet us downstairs at the 'Hooker Bar'--I'm sure that's not the official name, but that's what we've been calling it for the past couple of years. We had a couple of rounds, telling stories and having a few laughs before heading out. Being a dumbass, I agreed to go back out to Boulder Station to take another beating.
As much as I like the casino at Boulder Station--it's a great casino, just in a shitty location--I've never won a dime in the place. Not one dime, ever. We both lost a hundred bucks in less than a half an hour, and turned around and left. The drive back to the Strip was especially enjoyable in the new convertible, raising our coolness factor exponentially.
We got word that Vegas Jer was in town, and told us to meet him at the Paris dice tables around 10 pm. We got back and found him on a hot table with several green and black checks on his rail. We hung back waiting until the run was over a few minutes later. Jer cashed out and we tried to figure out where to go next. Angy and I, still smarting from our Boulder Highway Beat Down, were looking for low-limit blackjack. Jer just wanted to hang out. We all wanted to drink, so we figured on something within walking distance (and there was no way to get all three of us into the car, anyways).
We wandered through Bally's, but nothing looked promising. We stopped at a bar looking for fruity drinks, and while waiting for the bartender to make our huge pina coladas in souvenir glasses, all of the tv's suddenly changed over to the news coming out of London about the foiled terrorist attacks. That pretty much stopped most of the activity in the surrounding areas for a few minutes until everyone figured out that Nothing Bad Happened, and after that it was business as usual. We took our silly drinks and headed for the Barbary Coast. Jer gave the dice a run, basically breaking even, before we decided to just head on down to the Imperial Palace. It was a nice night for walking, and we had a pleasant slightly-buzzed walk down the Strip.
We finally settled in to a $10 'double deck' game, but it took us a few rounds before we realized what a joke that was. They had eight decks in a shuffling machine which spit out 104 cards at a time. Unfortunately, it was the only game in town, so to speak, so we stayed there instead of walking away in protest. Yeah, I guess we're part of the problem, but fun was the priority, not maximizing our advantage. We realized just how bad it was though, because every time we got a blackjack, they'd give us a string of Mardi Gras beads. On a regular shoe game, you should be getting about six blackjacks per hour. I sat at that table for over three hours and only got four snappers.
It took Angy almost two hours to lose her hundred bucks, but I was treading water pretty well. Jer started pretty hot, but got crushed.
We were playing in the Champagne Pit, but it was damn near impossible to get any champagne. Once I threatened to just stick my head in the fountain and suckle directly from the teat, the waitress finally brought some over. Good god, it was horrible. Angy was laughing her ass off watching the facial expressions of Jer and I as we drank that swill. And it didn't mix well with all of the other stuff we'd been drinking that night, either.
Once Angy and Jer left the table, I started to actually win, and started earning a few green chips for my effort. I more than quadrupled up, and decided to color up when a very annoying drunk couple sat down and started using the I've-never-heard-of-basic-strategy method. I went to the cage to trade in my black chips, and saw Jer at a 3-card poker table, and Angy was at the bar playing video poker and sipping on a Captain and Diet. I snuck up behind her and said Hey mama, would you come back to my hotel room with me for a hundred bucks? while simultaneously dropping a Benjamin in her lap. She said Hell yeah--Let's go! much to the amusement of the other folks at the bar.
We watched Jer for a few minutes, and he was lucky enough to win back all the money he lost at the blackjack table, plus a few hundred more. He colored up and we decided to go back to our home base and have some breakfast in the cafe. Unfortunately, I had a Margaritaville moment and blew out my flip-flop, so instead of walking, we coughed up six bucks for the cab ride to Paris.
A drunken Vegas breakfast at 5 am is always a great time, and this was no different. Jer and I both had steak and eggs, while Angy had French toast. We were exhausted, and I couldn't even come close to finishing my meal. Angy still had $90 worth of vouchers good at any Harrah's-owned restaurant, so breakfast was free. Jer had to be back at the airport an hour later (he was only in town for about nine hours), so he opted to just wander the casino, but Angy and I headed back to the room for some much needed sleep.
The next thing I knew, it was 11:30 the next day and her sisters were dragging their luggage in and waking us up. Those blackout curtains really work--I thought it was only like 8:00 am. We finally crawled out of bed and got ready for the day--'the day' consisting of laying by the pool and drinking pina coladas.
And that's pretty much what we did all afternoon. Unfortunately, I had to work that night, so Angy drove me back home around 6 pm. She found her way back to the Strip and proceeded to have much more fun that night than I did.
We'd made plans to have lunch at the Wynn buffet the next day, but her and her sisters had waaaay too much fun the previous night, and I didn't hear from her until she got up out of bed that afternoon/evening around 5:00 pm. Of course, I couldn't afford to take any time off, so we firmed up plans to meet up early the next morning for our cabana day.
I got home at 4:30, hit the sack and got back up at 9:00 am. I showered, put on some pool clothes and headed back down to Paris. Angy, her sister Gail, and I went down to the pool and got our cabana at 10 am sharp. Of course I wish I had the pictures, but they are forthcoming. But the cabana was pretty cool--it had a tv, fridge, table, couch, and four chaise lounges, plus all the towels we'd ever need. It came stocked with fruit juice, bottled water, and soft drinks, and they said they'd be bringing a fruit basket around at 11. Angy and Gail went to the little shop to look at new bathing suits, while I turned on the tv and snoozed on the couch while our bikini-clad private
We ordered frozen fruity drinks, which were actually not very good, and also some lunch from the cafe--the smoked turkey wraps were absolutely delicious. Since the drinks weren't very good, Angy had the foresight to empty a couple of water bottles and refill them with rum, and we snuck them down to the cabana and made our own mixed drinks. Smart chick, that Angy!
In the midst of our drunken phone calls to more of our absent friends, Andrea showed up. I missed her bunches and it was great to see her again. It's funny because Andrea, Angy, and I are just about the most opposite three people on the planet, but when we get together we just click like the musketeers. It's probably a good thing that we can't get together more often, otherwise we'd just get into trouble. But this visit was more mellow than previous get-togethers, and we had a wonderful afternoon just hanging out, sipping drinks, and lounging by the pool. We still had our share of laughs--now that Andrea has a boyfriend, I told her that I wished she were twins so that I could have the single one. Or even better, she could be triplets and I'd get the other two to double up on me... And it was always worth a laugh whenever Angy did something goofy to say in a loud voice Knock it off mom, you're embarrassing me! because invariably people would look at us and scurry off speaking in hushed tones...
The day ended much too soon, and I had to go back to work. The sunshine and drinks had taken all of the energy out of me and it was all I could do to stay awake and make it through my entire shift that night. But I made it. I ended up sleeping away most of the day on Sunday, as did Angy and the girls due to their evening's worth of buffoonery at the Carnaval Court and Hogs & Heifers. At some point that day, Angy decided that instead of shipping the car home, she'd just drive it home by herself. I offered to make the drive with her, but she insisted that she could do it alone and didn't need to throw a wrench into my week.
So we had our farewell breakfast at the Peppermill on Monday morning, which I wrote about previously. She hit the road at about 1:00 in the afternoon and promised to call me as she made her way home. We talked a few times in the past day and a half, and she called me around 1:00 am this morning, saying that she was just a half hour away from home.
I'm glad she made it without a breakdown or any other incident.
But that brings us to today. The water still hasn't come on, but I see that my roommate is home, so I'm sure it'll get handled today. I just wish it would've happened last week when I had access to a nice bathroom with unlimited hot water at the hotel.
In the meantime, I think I'll try and get a little sleep. Maybe when I wake up the drought will be over.
Mikey
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Civic Duty
I was so exhausted after getting out of work last night--not only was it the end of a very long week behind the tables, but we went 'old school' last night on our strings. It was the first day of the new 'schedule'--all of the people who changed shifts and days off began last night, so there were a lot of new faces. So what that meant is that a lot of dealers coming from the graveyard shift don't know how to deal several of the carnival games because those tables are always closed when they're at work, so they just stuck them on one game that they knew and kept them there all night long. My string of games was World Poker Tour, Pai Gow, and Bonus Holdem. So while the other dealers each stayed at one of those tables exclusively, I ran relief--meaning that I'd tap one guy out to go on break, and then once he came back 20 minutes later, he'd tap me back out and I'd go to the next table for 20 minutes, and so on, all night long.It was actually a lot of fun, and I didn't get bogged down with annoying players which can sometimes happen. I just dropped in for 20 minutes per table while their regular dealer took a break, and then when he came back, I punch out again and moved on. As a bonus, it made the night absolutely fly by. Of course, this is all cool from my perspective, but if I were on the other side of the coin and got stuck dealing something like Let It Ride all night, there might have been an 'incident'.
Since it was my 'Friday', I tried to smooth-talk my way into the half-hour early out from the boss, but by the time I got to him, all the extra dealers had already bent his ear and were on their way out the door, so I had to stay until the bitter end.
I stopped by Chilly Palmer's for a quick round with the usual suspects, but was so tired that I begged off before the second round of Jaegerbombs landed in front of me. As I was pulling up into my driveway, I noticed a huge puddle in the middle of the road in front of our house, and I thought that our neighbor had left his sprinklers on again.
No such luck.
I hit the bed hard, barely keeping my eyes open long enough to watch the latest episode of Entourage, but as soon as it ended I immediately fell asleep.
I woke up at 2 o'clock in the afternoon, thinking I had enough time to grab a shower before PTI came on. I went to the bathroom, turned the knob in the shower, and not a drop of water came out. Damn. I checked the sink--same thing. Out to the kitchen, no water there either.
Well, I wasn't too grubby so I just put on some deodorant, hit the mouthwash bottle, and used hand sanitizer to wash my hands and face before getting dressed. I called my roommate and he said he'd look into it, but he was aware of one of our sprinkler heads in the front yard having a bad leak last night.
So I got dressed and headed for the door. First stop was the bank to make another deposit (and can somebody please tell me why the Washington Mutual at Eastern & Tropicana always smells like a dirty diaper?), and after that it was off to find my local polling station.
Yep, today was the Nevada State Primary Election, so I needed to go down and cast a vote or two. I will regrettably admit that I've only voted in one Primary election before (that year Steve Forbes won Arizona huge, although I voted for Lamar Alexander...), so this was actually a new experience for me--lots of judges, justices of the peace, District Attorney, Guv, Lt. Guv, Sheriff, etc. But I had my 'workbook' ballot with me to help me along, and I pulled in just as L.A. Woman was beginning to play on the radio.
The first thing, when I walked in to the gym at the elementary school, was that I was the only one there actually voting--everyone else was working. I also immediately realized that I'd left my wallet with ID and Voter Registration Card back in my truck. I did that panicked pat-down move before turning around and saying I'd be right back. But they said I didn't need any ID to vote, as long as I knew my precint number. For God-knows-what-reason, I just happened to know it. I went to the proper table and they had a copy of my signature on file, so all I had to do was sign on the dotted line next to it. It was a sufficient match, so they gave me my voter identification and receipt.
I don't know how I felt when they handed me this huge piece of yellow cardstock with the word REPUBLICAN printed in black letters for all to see, but I reminded myself that this was a primary, and my ballot would be different then then the one all of the lefties out there were using, anyways. But then I thought if they were going to announce to the world my affiliation, I should've at least been able to wear my t-shirt that says LET'S GO TO THE BLUE STATES AND KICK SOME ASS! But no, clothing of a political nature is a no-no at the voting booth, so I just wore my new How Can I Love You If You Won't Lie Down? t-shirt instead.
We've got the latest generation of voting machines here in Nevada--you get a little room-key looking piece of plastic to slide into the machine to activate the ballot electronically, and from there it's a touch screen. No more butterflies or hanging chads out here. And then when you're finished, it has a scrolling printout of your ballot that you can use to verify everything. Pretty nifty, and as far as I can tell, it totally eliminates any type of screwups for all but the most incompetent of illiterate voters.
I was done inside of three minutes, got my I Voted! sticker put on my shirt and was back out the door and in the truck before Jim Morrison got his mojo risin'.
After doing my civic duty, I figured it was time to go stimulate the economy a little, so I drove down Maryland Pkwy to the Barnes & Noble. They had 2007 calendars for sale already, and I picked up an Islands calendar including August-December of 2006. I also found a cool old book called Folklore & the Sea which should provide hours of entertainment, given that it's thicker than a red-clay fireplace brick, and a sailing magazine or two.
I also popped into the sporting goods store next door, shopping for a decent pair of Bolle sunglasses, since I broke two different pair of sunglasses while Angy was here (and no, even though her sister the Boy Scout packed an eyeglass repair kit in her luggage, it was of no use). Unfortunately, I was unable to find a suitable pair, so I'm down to the cheapass ugly pair I got free from that gift shop next to the Peppermill several months ago when the salesclerk felt so bad about bending me over with the price of his AA batteries that he tossed in the spectacles, gratis.
After the shopping was done, I made my way over to Metro Pizza for a late lunch/early dinner and to take advantage of the two-fer Tuesday draft beer special. Always a good meal.
After that, I came back home, hoping that the water issues would be resolved. They were not. Hopefully they will be by tomorrow, or I'm going to have to call on one of my womenfolk to let me use the shower at their place. If that's not possible, just keep an eye on the news for the Metro cops pulling a fat naked lathered-up guy out of the pond in front of the Bellagio.
Y'all know where to send bail money.
Mikey
Monday, August 14, 2006
Old School
I just said goodbye to Angy about an hour ago in the parking lot of the Peppermill. We met there for our last Vegas meal together until next March. Of course I'm feeling kind of down right now. Her visits are always a highlight of living out here because we always laugh our asses off all week long and I'm always sad to see her go. And I'm a little worried about her making that drive all the way back to Illinois all by herself. But she insists that she'll be fine and she'll call me with in-progress reports until she gets home.
She also managed to get her huge suitcase into the trunk of that little car, but I have no idea how the valet did it. Something about using a can of bacon grease, a crowbar, and a rubber mallet... She may have to take it to the Nissan dealer when she gets home so that they can take the back end apart in order to remove the suitcase. But regardless of the luggage issues, she's on the road, making that same cross-country trek along I-40 that I've made twice in the past few years.
Before she left, we walked over to the Stardust to visit one last time before the wrecking ball takes it down. I played $20 worth of blackjack, with predictable results, so we ended up having to buy more chips as souvenirs. She also picked up a few Stardust-logo'd trinkets before they become collectors items, and we wandered around a bit before saying goodbye for the last time. I don't have that many memories from hanging out or playing there at the 'Dust, so I'm not too especially saddened to see it go. Although I thought that it should've outlasted both the Frontier and the Riviera. Oh well, time marches on, and nowhere is that more especially true than here in Las Vegas.
And speaking of old Vegas, I've neglected to mention that I have the supreme pleasure of working with three old guys that between them have almost 70 years of dice dealing experience down at the old Horseshoe downtown. I've decided that there is no better way to spend my 20-minute breaks between tables than to sit in the dining room listening to them tell stories. It's even better is when all three of them are on the same break schedule with me--I feel like a fly on the wall at a mob meeting. I swear I could sit and listen to them for days on end. The stuff they've seen is enough material to fill a thousand-page bestseller. I remember, in one of my old trip reports, mentioning that I was sitting out on the loading dock at Binions one time talking to a couple of old-time dice dealers while they were on break. It was a highlight of the visit that I'll never forget. Anyhow, every night in the break room with these guys is just like that day out on the loading dock. Their stories about high-rollers and crooks, drunks and drug addicts, and all the wild times that they had when Benny was running the casino are the stuff legends are made of. I swear I just can't get enough.
As much as I enjoy my job, little things like that make me appreciate it even more. For somebody like me who has always felt like I got to the Vegas party a generation too late, it gives me a glimpse into the storied past that few people ever got to experience. Time marches on, indeed, but listening to these guys provides a window to the past with a view that can't be beat.
But I'm here, now, and I still love it.
Last night I was dealing blackjack for an hour or two on a $10 shoe game, and I had a stretch where it was just me and another player. Of course we were having a pleasant conversation and it turns out that he's been out here in Vegas for almost eight years, and like me has also lived all over the country, but has finally found a 'home' right here in Sin City. And he said something to me that is all but prophetic.
Right now, Las Vegas is the greatest city in America to be living in. There is no other place that can compete.
I've been thinking about that statement ever since, and I can't agree more.
There is no place like home.
Mikey
She also managed to get her huge suitcase into the trunk of that little car, but I have no idea how the valet did it. Something about using a can of bacon grease, a crowbar, and a rubber mallet... She may have to take it to the Nissan dealer when she gets home so that they can take the back end apart in order to remove the suitcase. But regardless of the luggage issues, she's on the road, making that same cross-country trek along I-40 that I've made twice in the past few years.
Before she left, we walked over to the Stardust to visit one last time before the wrecking ball takes it down. I played $20 worth of blackjack, with predictable results, so we ended up having to buy more chips as souvenirs. She also picked up a few Stardust-logo'd trinkets before they become collectors items, and we wandered around a bit before saying goodbye for the last time. I don't have that many memories from hanging out or playing there at the 'Dust, so I'm not too especially saddened to see it go. Although I thought that it should've outlasted both the Frontier and the Riviera. Oh well, time marches on, and nowhere is that more especially true than here in Las Vegas.
And speaking of old Vegas, I've neglected to mention that I have the supreme pleasure of working with three old guys that between them have almost 70 years of dice dealing experience down at the old Horseshoe downtown. I've decided that there is no better way to spend my 20-minute breaks between tables than to sit in the dining room listening to them tell stories. It's even better is when all three of them are on the same break schedule with me--I feel like a fly on the wall at a mob meeting. I swear I could sit and listen to them for days on end. The stuff they've seen is enough material to fill a thousand-page bestseller. I remember, in one of my old trip reports, mentioning that I was sitting out on the loading dock at Binions one time talking to a couple of old-time dice dealers while they were on break. It was a highlight of the visit that I'll never forget. Anyhow, every night in the break room with these guys is just like that day out on the loading dock. Their stories about high-rollers and crooks, drunks and drug addicts, and all the wild times that they had when Benny was running the casino are the stuff legends are made of. I swear I just can't get enough.
As much as I enjoy my job, little things like that make me appreciate it even more. For somebody like me who has always felt like I got to the Vegas party a generation too late, it gives me a glimpse into the storied past that few people ever got to experience. Time marches on, indeed, but listening to these guys provides a window to the past with a view that can't be beat.
But I'm here, now, and I still love it.
Last night I was dealing blackjack for an hour or two on a $10 shoe game, and I had a stretch where it was just me and another player. Of course we were having a pleasant conversation and it turns out that he's been out here in Vegas for almost eight years, and like me has also lived all over the country, but has finally found a 'home' right here in Sin City. And he said something to me that is all but prophetic.
Right now, Las Vegas is the greatest city in America to be living in. There is no other place that can compete.
I've been thinking about that statement ever since, and I can't agree more.
There is no place like home.
Mikey
Issues
Hey gang... I've gotten a couple of emails already about the disappearing tip jar. It seems that sometimes when you come to the site, the icon is there, and sometimes it's not. And unfortunately, some folks who wanted to give were unable to.
Well, I figured out what's going on with that. Sometimes, the Amazon.com Honor System page gets too much traffic, or the server is overloaded somehow, and the page is unavailable. When that happens, the fail-safe method they have is that the tip jar icon will disappear from the various websites that use the system (I've noticed it dissappearing on Instapundit.com on occasion, too). I wish it were 100% reliable, but apparently the server has a few minor traffic management issues.
But don't let that discourage you--just refresh the page or try again later. It will eventually come back and be available.
All is appreciated.
Also, I haven't quite figured out all of the nuts & bolts to see exactly who the donors are. There is an option to send me an email from the donation page if you'd like to tell me that you've dropped a buck or two, and if you go that route, I'll definitely respond as soon as I can. One other thing. I know that the default amount on the donation page says $25. Don't worry--any amount greater than a dollar works. That's just the, ahem, suggested amount...
Now that you know, I can put away the tin cup and cardboard sign here in the posting area and get back to my usual banter.
Mikey
Well, I figured out what's going on with that. Sometimes, the Amazon.com Honor System page gets too much traffic, or the server is overloaded somehow, and the page is unavailable. When that happens, the fail-safe method they have is that the tip jar icon will disappear from the various websites that use the system (I've noticed it dissappearing on Instapundit.com on occasion, too). I wish it were 100% reliable, but apparently the server has a few minor traffic management issues.
But don't let that discourage you--just refresh the page or try again later. It will eventually come back and be available.
All is appreciated.
Also, I haven't quite figured out all of the nuts & bolts to see exactly who the donors are. There is an option to send me an email from the donation page if you'd like to tell me that you've dropped a buck or two, and if you go that route, I'll definitely respond as soon as I can. One other thing. I know that the default amount on the donation page says $25. Don't worry--any amount greater than a dollar works. That's just the, ahem, suggested amount...
Now that you know, I can put away the tin cup and cardboard sign here in the posting area and get back to my usual banter.
Mikey
Still Going...
Good morning, everyone. As much as I'd love to do several long posts about all of the activities that have been going on since last Tuesday, I just don't have the time yet. I just got home from work a few minutes ago, but I have to get a few hours of sleep before meeting Angy for lunch one last time before she heads home today. Instead of flying back, she's road-tripping back to Illinois in her sweet new ride. I offered to go with her, but she's cool with making the trip alone. I just have to print out directions from Mapquest so she doesn't make that left turn in Albuquerque...If she shipped the car, she wouldn't have it for a couple of weeks, and she can't wait that long. Besides, this road trip will give her the opportunity to finally figure out how to pop the trunk from the inside of the car. (Believe me, we tried to find a button. It's pretty well hidden!). She also thinks that she's going to be able to fit her luggage in that trunk, but I'm sure that by the time this post sees the light of day, she will have discovered that it's an exercise in futility.
But we've had a heck of a good time this week, even though I didn't get to go out with her at night to our usual haunts like the Voodoo Lounge and Carnaval Court. And I got to see Andrea again for the first time since the morning before the T2V Poker Tournament during March Madness. And she lives here in Vegas, too!
Once Angy gets home, she'll forward all of the pictures to me that we took. My camera officially sucks, otherwise I'd have some to post already.
Also--I want to give a shout out and a hearty 'thank you' to everyone who hit the tip jar this weekend! It was much appreciated. Also, the t-shirt proofs came in on Wednesday, and I approved them, so hopefully I'll get them a few days ahead of schedule (I wasn't supposed to get the proofs until Friday or Saturday, so hopefully they got a 2-day head start). I've got my fingers crossed that they arrive here at The Estate by this Friday. I'm still waiting on checks from a couple of people, but I've received payment from almost everyone. Those who's (whose?) checks I've cashed, your shirts will be shipped out within 48 hours of their arrival here in Vegas.
I think that's about all for now.
I'll try and post more later this afternoon if I get some free time before going to work, but I can make no promises.
Mikey
Friday, August 11, 2006
Drunk Chicks in Vegas!
I think somebody has a serious hangover today.
How do I know this? Because three wake-up calls to Angy went unanswered, and so by the time 1pm rolled around, I gave up and figured we'd be skipping that whole Lunch-at-the-Wynn plan. So instead of peel-and-eat shrimp, teriyaki steak, and creamed mushrooms, plus an assortment of wonderful desserts to choose from, I just opened a can of chili, heated it up in the microwave, and dumped it over the top of a small bowl of busted up Tostitos found on the bottom of the bag.
I've got to admit that it was a bit of a letdown.
And instead of some Vegas-style silliness at Steve's place, I spent my day assembling my new bedframe and getting started with the new desk. Unfortunately, distractions abound, and I didn't get as far as I'd hoped. It looks like I probably won't get stuff completely moved until next week some time.
I'd also like to write about all of the adventures we've had this week, but who knows when I'll have time to do that. Maybe on Sunday afternoon...
In the meantime, I'm working tonight, then spending the day tomorrow at the Paris pool sipping fruity drinks and ogling the talent parade from behind my sunglasses. I hope your Saturday is just as enjoyable.
Mikey
How do I know this? Because three wake-up calls to Angy went unanswered, and so by the time 1pm rolled around, I gave up and figured we'd be skipping that whole Lunch-at-the-Wynn plan. So instead of peel-and-eat shrimp, teriyaki steak, and creamed mushrooms, plus an assortment of wonderful desserts to choose from, I just opened a can of chili, heated it up in the microwave, and dumped it over the top of a small bowl of busted up Tostitos found on the bottom of the bag.
I've got to admit that it was a bit of a letdown.
And instead of some Vegas-style silliness at Steve's place, I spent my day assembling my new bedframe and getting started with the new desk. Unfortunately, distractions abound, and I didn't get as far as I'd hoped. It looks like I probably won't get stuff completely moved until next week some time.
I'd also like to write about all of the adventures we've had this week, but who knows when I'll have time to do that. Maybe on Sunday afternoon...
In the meantime, I'm working tonight, then spending the day tomorrow at the Paris pool sipping fruity drinks and ogling the talent parade from behind my sunglasses. I hope your Saturday is just as enjoyable.
Mikey
Another (unrelated) Update
Hey Gang...
If you look in the left-hand column, you'll see a new link for donations through Amazon. No pressure, but I just wanted to make folks aware of it. I've gotten several emails, comments, and suggestions over the past couple of years telling me I should try to make some money with my writings and my website. I've definitely got nothing against making a buck or two, but I certainly wouldn't charge people to read anything here by tossing up a password protected page or anything like that. But had I known how much interest there would be in just the t-shirts, I might've charged a little more and made a few bucks. But that wasn't my goal when I made them available.
With that in mind, I'm giving people the opportunity to donate on a voluntary basis if they feel so inclined. It'll offset the costs involved with keeping this site up and running, if not entertaining. Of course, using blogger for hosting, that cost is eliminated, but there are other bandwidth issues (photobucket, for one) and traffic services that I use and bear the expenses out of my own pocket, not to mention that the whole mothership computer that I use here at Hurricane Central that is in desperate need of an upgrade.
So there it is. If you feel particularly entertained by anything I write, by all means, hit the tip jar. If not, no biggie. I have no expectations. Every donation is gravy.
Thanks!
Mikey
If you look in the left-hand column, you'll see a new link for donations through Amazon. No pressure, but I just wanted to make folks aware of it. I've gotten several emails, comments, and suggestions over the past couple of years telling me I should try to make some money with my writings and my website. I've definitely got nothing against making a buck or two, but I certainly wouldn't charge people to read anything here by tossing up a password protected page or anything like that. But had I known how much interest there would be in just the t-shirts, I might've charged a little more and made a few bucks. But that wasn't my goal when I made them available.
With that in mind, I'm giving people the opportunity to donate on a voluntary basis if they feel so inclined. It'll offset the costs involved with keeping this site up and running, if not entertaining. Of course, using blogger for hosting, that cost is eliminated, but there are other bandwidth issues (photobucket, for one) and traffic services that I use and bear the expenses out of my own pocket, not to mention that the whole mothership computer that I use here at Hurricane Central that is in desperate need of an upgrade.
So there it is. If you feel particularly entertained by anything I write, by all means, hit the tip jar. If not, no biggie. I have no expectations. Every donation is gravy.
Thanks!
Mikey
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Quickie Update
Hey Gang...not much time on my hands here. I just got home from about 30 hours of buffoonery with Angy and have to leave for work in about an hour or so.
Anyhow, as some of you already know, the 'big suprise' with Angy is that she came out early to buy a car. Not just any car, but an ultra-cool Nissan 350 Z Roadster convertible.
She'd been shopping for one for almost a year now, and found one online out here at the BMW dealer in Henderson (directly across the street from the dealership where I bought my truck). Anyhow, she arranged financing and such beforehand, and came out a day early to take a look and go for a test drive to decide if she really wanted it.
Well, she wanted it! So we spent most of the day at the dealership--a story for another time--but she ended up taking delivery finally around 5 pm. So we spent a good portion of the evening driving up and down the Strip with the top down listening to Elvis music.
Very much fun!
The first thing we did after leaving the dealership was to come back to the house to take some pictures of it, with her in various poses (wearing her ultra-sexy Hurricane Mikey tanktop, too!), but my camera is doing it's best ghetto-sled-in-May impersonation, meaning it's about to finally die for good, so all of the pics are on her camera. She'll send them along in a couple of days, but take my word for it--it's a very cool car and she looks damn good in it. But as cool as it is, I don't look nearly as good in it as Angy does--when I'm driving, it looks like somebody crammed too much bread in the toaster.
Anyhow, we've had a lot of fun the past couple of days, and as soon as I get some free time (probably next week), I'll write all about it. In the meantime, it's back to work for me tonight, although tomorrow we're doing lunch at the Wynn buffet again. Saturday is cabana day at the Paris pool, and Sunday's activities haven't revealed themselves yet.
Angy still hasn't decided if she's going to drive it back home or have it shipped. But I offered to take a day off on Monday and road trip back with her, flying back to Vegas on Thursday morning.
Although, the recent news out of Great Britain has tipped the scales in favor of her driving back. We'll see. Whatever happens, I'm sure it'll be an adventure. I'm hoping one of her sisters steps up to road trip with her, but if she runs out of options, I'm willing to help.
More later.
Mikey
Anyhow, as some of you already know, the 'big suprise' with Angy is that she came out early to buy a car. Not just any car, but an ultra-cool Nissan 350 Z Roadster convertible.
She'd been shopping for one for almost a year now, and found one online out here at the BMW dealer in Henderson (directly across the street from the dealership where I bought my truck). Anyhow, she arranged financing and such beforehand, and came out a day early to take a look and go for a test drive to decide if she really wanted it.
Well, she wanted it! So we spent most of the day at the dealership--a story for another time--but she ended up taking delivery finally around 5 pm. So we spent a good portion of the evening driving up and down the Strip with the top down listening to Elvis music.
Very much fun!
The first thing we did after leaving the dealership was to come back to the house to take some pictures of it, with her in various poses (wearing her ultra-sexy Hurricane Mikey tanktop, too!), but my camera is doing it's best ghetto-sled-in-May impersonation, meaning it's about to finally die for good, so all of the pics are on her camera. She'll send them along in a couple of days, but take my word for it--it's a very cool car and she looks damn good in it. But as cool as it is, I don't look nearly as good in it as Angy does--when I'm driving, it looks like somebody crammed too much bread in the toaster.
Anyhow, we've had a lot of fun the past couple of days, and as soon as I get some free time (probably next week), I'll write all about it. In the meantime, it's back to work for me tonight, although tomorrow we're doing lunch at the Wynn buffet again. Saturday is cabana day at the Paris pool, and Sunday's activities haven't revealed themselves yet.
Angy still hasn't decided if she's going to drive it back home or have it shipped. But I offered to take a day off on Monday and road trip back with her, flying back to Vegas on Thursday morning.
Although, the recent news out of Great Britain has tipped the scales in favor of her driving back. We'll see. Whatever happens, I'm sure it'll be an adventure. I'm hoping one of her sisters steps up to road trip with her, but if she runs out of options, I'm willing to help.
More later.
Mikey
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Holding Pattern
Well, I was all prepared to do the obligitory light-blogging-until-further-notice post due to being offline while spending the next couple of days moving everything to the other end of the house. But I got up today to find out that the carpets won't be getting steam-cleaned until Wednesday morning.
While I welcome the opportunity to be a slug for yet another day, I was really hoping to get most of the moving done today, since it's my 'weekend'. So far, all I've done is relocate the stuff that hangs in the closet and moved all the booze to the built-in shelves in the new room. Other than that, I have to wait. I suppose I could just spend the day doing general cleaning and whatnot at this end, maybe emptying the bookshelves and taking the pictures down off the walls and such. But I've also got to go down to Fry's and pick up that new workstation I've been wanting to buy. I figure it'll be much easier to just build it and get everything hooked up in an empty room, so there's no need to wait until I get the new computer system.
I'd like to get as much done as I can, because later tonight I'm meeting Skip ('Soreyes') downtown at the Main Street Station brewpub for a little bit of dinner, beer, and buffoonery. And then tomorrow morning, my favorite sugar mamaMrs. Robinson Angy arrives bright and early and we have a huge day planned. I don't think she's mentioned (over on T2V) the 'other' reason for her visit, so I'll keep it a secret until pictures are posted. But it's gonna be pretty cool! Anyhow, once she gets here, all productivity is gonna get shelved. Priorities, you know?
More updates to follow soon...
Mikey
While I welcome the opportunity to be a slug for yet another day, I was really hoping to get most of the moving done today, since it's my 'weekend'. So far, all I've done is relocate the stuff that hangs in the closet and moved all the booze to the built-in shelves in the new room. Other than that, I have to wait. I suppose I could just spend the day doing general cleaning and whatnot at this end, maybe emptying the bookshelves and taking the pictures down off the walls and such. But I've also got to go down to Fry's and pick up that new workstation I've been wanting to buy. I figure it'll be much easier to just build it and get everything hooked up in an empty room, so there's no need to wait until I get the new computer system.
I'd like to get as much done as I can, because later tonight I'm meeting Skip ('Soreyes') downtown at the Main Street Station brewpub for a little bit of dinner, beer, and buffoonery. And then tomorrow morning, my favorite sugar mama
More updates to follow soon...
Mikey
Done!
Ok gang, the shirts have been ordered from the vendor--they should look just like the picture I posted earlier, with the same distressed font. (There was an issue if that font was going to be available or not, but not to worry, all is well). I should have the proofs by this weekend, and if there are no changes to be made, delivery to the The Estate is guaranteed by Monday the 21st. So they should be shipped out and on the way to everyone by Tuesday morning the 22nd, the last thing I do before hitting the highway to Phoenix for a couple of days of R&R.
Again, I was surprised by the amount of interest out there--I've deposited almost a thousand dollars worth of checks in the past week! Even more surprising is the fact that there will be people wandering around Jolly Olde and continental Europe sporting Hurricane Mikey gear next month.
Unfortunately, no Canadians stepped up and bought a shirt, which is odd, because my traffic tracker indicates a huge presence of readers from O-Canada. Perhaps I should've offered a sweatshirt or parka option--either that or the 'email border' is still closed due to security concerns. (But don't worry Sticky--I've got a special surprise for you when you come down!)
Regardless, I hope everyone who ordered one is satisfied with the final product. And doesn't forget to put it in the suitcase when March Madness rolls around, either.
Mikey
Again, I was surprised by the amount of interest out there--I've deposited almost a thousand dollars worth of checks in the past week! Even more surprising is the fact that there will be people wandering around Jolly Olde and continental Europe sporting Hurricane Mikey gear next month.
Unfortunately, no Canadians stepped up and bought a shirt, which is odd, because my traffic tracker indicates a huge presence of readers from O-Canada. Perhaps I should've offered a sweatshirt or parka option--either that or the 'email border' is still closed due to security concerns. (But don't worry Sticky--I've got a special surprise for you when you come down!)
Regardless, I hope everyone who ordered one is satisfied with the final product. And doesn't forget to put it in the suitcase when March Madness rolls around, either.
Mikey
Monday, August 07, 2006
Laughing My Ass Off
I just saw one of the funniest episodes of Entourage ever. Reminded me of this guy I used to know in Texas.
You got massaged by a dude?
And wandering around in a casino in a bathrobe is always a good time, too.
Vegas Baby, Vegas.
Mikey
You got massaged by a dude?
And wandering around in a casino in a bathrobe is always a good time, too.
Vegas Baby, Vegas.
Mikey
Pack It Up!
Damn, I really don't want to go back down to that U-haul place...
Now that I finally got all of the electronics in my room hooked up and working the way they were intended, I have to take it all down again, because it's all getting moved, again.
As much as I like this house--the location and especially the price, it's just too damn uncomfortable here in my bedroom. Those west-facing non-opening floor-to-ceiling windows were a bad idea in the Sixties, and they're still a bad idea today. Did the guy who designed this place forget that we're still in the middle of the farking desert? I get no air circulation in here, and when it's 110 outside, it's at least 85 or so in the bedroom. And since the windows don't open, I can't even install a portable AC unit to try and make it bearable.
No mas...
So, when I came home early Sunday morning and saw that the guy I share a refrigerator with had suddenly moved out, I started lusting after his room. First of all, it's off by itself at the other end of the house by the kitchen/laundry room/side entrance. Second of all, it's a bigger room, and it's on the east side of the house with two huge shade trees just outside of the windows. And third of all, it's got real walls--not glass--and windows on two sides that actually open, so I can get some fresh air when needed. And oh by the way, it's got it's own 3/4 bathroom which I don't have to share. Best of all it's got an air conditioning vent right over the spot where the bed is, and it cranks out the cool air at a fairly good clip.
I talked to the guy who does all of the sub-leasing, and he's cool with me taking it, so starting this afternoon I'm doing a bunch of cleaning. The other guy just took his stuff and got out, so it needs a bit of attention. There is some old furniture that needs to get taken out, and tonight while I'm at work, my roommate is going to steam clean the carpets for me. I'm off the next two days, so that means I'll be spending all of my free time herding my shiat to the other end of The Estate.
I'm glad it's working out the way it is, because I swore to myself that I wouldn't spend another summer living here because this bedroom is so frickin' hot. There's no way I can justify paying my share of a $700 electric bill when the bedroom still feels like an oven. Now I can stay put. At least that's the plan.
But a few days from now, I'll be relaxing and blogging in normal-temperature splendor, even if my new room is covered in dark Brady Bunch-era wood panelling. It doesn't matter. I'm moving out of the greenhouse and into the shaggadelic babe lair.
So I may have to head down to The Attic this afternoon and pick up some bean bag chairs, lava lamps, and a Pink Floyd poster.
Mikey
Now that I finally got all of the electronics in my room hooked up and working the way they were intended, I have to take it all down again, because it's all getting moved, again.
As much as I like this house--the location and especially the price, it's just too damn uncomfortable here in my bedroom. Those west-facing non-opening floor-to-ceiling windows were a bad idea in the Sixties, and they're still a bad idea today. Did the guy who designed this place forget that we're still in the middle of the farking desert? I get no air circulation in here, and when it's 110 outside, it's at least 85 or so in the bedroom. And since the windows don't open, I can't even install a portable AC unit to try and make it bearable.
No mas...
So, when I came home early Sunday morning and saw that the guy I share a refrigerator with had suddenly moved out, I started lusting after his room. First of all, it's off by itself at the other end of the house by the kitchen/laundry room/side entrance. Second of all, it's a bigger room, and it's on the east side of the house with two huge shade trees just outside of the windows. And third of all, it's got real walls--not glass--and windows on two sides that actually open, so I can get some fresh air when needed. And oh by the way, it's got it's own 3/4 bathroom which I don't have to share. Best of all it's got an air conditioning vent right over the spot where the bed is, and it cranks out the cool air at a fairly good clip.
I talked to the guy who does all of the sub-leasing, and he's cool with me taking it, so starting this afternoon I'm doing a bunch of cleaning. The other guy just took his stuff and got out, so it needs a bit of attention. There is some old furniture that needs to get taken out, and tonight while I'm at work, my roommate is going to steam clean the carpets for me. I'm off the next two days, so that means I'll be spending all of my free time herding my shiat to the other end of The Estate.
I'm glad it's working out the way it is, because I swore to myself that I wouldn't spend another summer living here because this bedroom is so frickin' hot. There's no way I can justify paying my share of a $700 electric bill when the bedroom still feels like an oven. Now I can stay put. At least that's the plan.
But a few days from now, I'll be relaxing and blogging in normal-temperature splendor, even if my new room is covered in dark Brady Bunch-era wood panelling. It doesn't matter. I'm moving out of the greenhouse and into the shaggadelic babe lair.
So I may have to head down to The Attic this afternoon and pick up some bean bag chairs, lava lamps, and a Pink Floyd poster.
Mikey
Sunday, August 06, 2006
The Big Questions
Don't know why people are interested in this stuff, but here goes... Thirty Questions you're dying to know the answers to:
1. What's currently in the cd player? Kenny Wayne Shepherd - Ledbetter Heights
2. Was was the first name of your last 'conquest'? Her name was Lola. She walked like a woman and talked like a man! Are you kidding me--I can't answer that in a public forum. My second-to-last conquest might be reading this...
3. What's the cheesiest tourist attraction in your hometown? Hmm...lots of competition for that one, but I'd have to go with the Liberace museum.
4. Ever been? Not yet. The Elvis-a-Rama museum is higher on the list.
5. What was the last concert you went to? Hmmm....Jimmy Buffett, in 2003. Damn, has it been that long?
6. What snack food were you munching on within the last 24 hours? Basil/Parmesan Wheat Thins.
7. Are you a Beatles man or and Elvis man? Elvis. By a long shot.
8. Chuck Norris or Jack Bauer, and why? Well, Chuck Norris gets mad props for the porn 'stache and his superior musical talent, but Jack Bauer is like a cross between McGuyver and Jackie Chan, so I'm going with Special Agent Bauer. Besides, chicks dig CTU guys.
9. What's your favorite booze? A little vague, don't you think? Why not ask me which one is my favorite child??? Ok, since I don't have kids... For beer, it's probably Pacifico or Michelob Light. (Although I tried that Michelob Ultra Amber last week and it was pretty good). For red wine, I like Pinot Noir from Oregon. White wine, I like that French stuff--Pouilly Fousse (sp?). Of course my favorite liquor is Rum, but don't ask me what my favorite rum is--too many to list. I don't have a favorite shot. I'll drink whatever you put in front of me. Except Jagermeister. I hate that shiat. But I'll still shoot it given enough peer pressure.
10. What was the last movie you've seen? In the theatre--Dead Man's Chest. At home, War of the Worlds. (Which by the way sucked complete ass)
11. Who is the most famous person you've ever met? I dunno, I've met several briefly, but the most famous one I've ever actually carried on a conversation with for more than a few minutes was Lynn Swann, old Steelers wideout. Same thing with Joe Namath.
12. If you had your choice, which trait would you most like to have-- Invisibilty, X-Ray vision, or the Ability to Fly? Wouldn't want to be invisible, because according to tv and movies, you must run around naked. I'd at least need a good pair of invisible sandals if I went that route, but I'd still be afraid of sunburn and the sudden loss of invisibility in a public place... Although flying would be cool, it would turn you into a side-show freak. So I'd go with X-Ray vision and spend most of my time in the poker room.
13. What's the dumbest thing you've ever tried to microwave? A dish of leftover casserole, with the aluminum foil still on it.
14. How much did you pay for your last gallon of gas? $3.09 for mid-grade.
15. Dinner for five, Jon Favreau style--who are your four guests? Tough question. Without overthinking it, I'd probably go with Doyle Brunson, Chris Berman, Jimmy Buffett, and Samuel L. Jackson. Rita Wilson would be our waitress, but she'd have to wear that same outfit she wore in That Thing You Do.
16. What's your favorite curse word? Asshat.
17. Where did you go on your last vacation? I took a week-long cruise to the western Caribbean in 2004. Damn, has it been that long?
18. What phobia do you have that nobody else knows about? Living in Vegas and seeing all these nasty people and working with sticky casino chips every night, I've become a total germ-0-phobe. Consequently, I have cleaner hands than a surgeon, due to the fact that I was them about a hundred times a day.
19. If you could kick one politician in the nuts and get away with it, who would it be? My esteemed Senator from Nevada, Harry Reid. Plus it would give me the chance to use my favorite curse word again, too!
20. What was the last online purchase you made? A t-shirt that says "How Can I Love You If You Won't Lie Down?"
21. What is your favorite book? Probably the one out at Red Rock! Comfy chairs, good drink service, decent lines, lots of wide-screen plasma tv's. Oh, you mean like actual book that you read... For fiction, I'd go with Wake of the Perdido Star by Gene Hackman and Daniel Lenihan. For non fiction, Blown Away by Herb Payson.
22. What kind of laundry soap do you use? Tide with bleach, I think. The label is in Spanish, so I'm not really sure...
23. Disney World, Las Vegas, Yellowstone, Branson, New Orleans, Sturgis, San Francisco, San Diego, Honolulu, or Cape Cod? I'm guessing the question isn't Name your favorite NFL team... Since I already live in Vegas, and have no desire on earth to visit Screaming Brat Central in Orlando, I'll go with San Diego. Love it. By the way, people that would choose Branson aren't really intarweb savvy, are they?
24. What's the strangest thing you put Ranch dressing on? Besides Asian strippers? Just kidding. Everyone knows they prefer to be dipped in wasabi vinaigrette! Actually, whenever I go out for pizza, I always order a side of ranch dressing to dip the crusts in. And my dirty little secret is that sometimes I don't wait till all the toppings are gone before I dip...
25. Ever been tempted to wear women's underwear? Only on my head. But as much as I'd like to go Nuke LaLoosh on occasion, I'm tempered by the fact that Victoria's Secret doesn't make anything in 5XL.
26. Now that there is no more Survivor, 24, Lost, or Prison Break, what do you watch on TV? A lot of SportCenter reruns in the morning. And the occasional Girls Gone Wild infomercial.
27. What is your next purchase that's going to cost more than $100? A new 19- or 20-inch computer monitor. Well that, and a shiatload of Hurricane Mikey t-shirts.
28. If you could be King for a day, name one law you'd implement that could never be repealed. Universal flat income tax on all wages and salary earnings, maxed out at 15%.
29. Have you ever broken 100 on the golf course? Hell no. Usually by the sixth hole the wheels have officially come off, I quit keeping score, and the rest of the day is devoted to drinking beer and hitting on the cart girl.
30. What's the most you've ever spent in the Champagne Room? Five bills, back in my rookie season. And forget that whole 'no sex in the champagne room' mantra, there's no champagne in the champagne room, either.
Mikey
1. What's currently in the cd player? Kenny Wayne Shepherd - Ledbetter Heights
2. Was was the first name of your last 'conquest'? Her name was Lola. She walked like a woman and talked like a man! Are you kidding me--I can't answer that in a public forum. My second-to-last conquest might be reading this...
3. What's the cheesiest tourist attraction in your hometown? Hmm...lots of competition for that one, but I'd have to go with the Liberace museum.
4. Ever been? Not yet. The Elvis-a-Rama museum is higher on the list.
5. What was the last concert you went to? Hmmm....Jimmy Buffett, in 2003. Damn, has it been that long?
6. What snack food were you munching on within the last 24 hours? Basil/Parmesan Wheat Thins.
7. Are you a Beatles man or and Elvis man? Elvis. By a long shot.
8. Chuck Norris or Jack Bauer, and why? Well, Chuck Norris gets mad props for the porn 'stache and his superior musical talent, but Jack Bauer is like a cross between McGuyver and Jackie Chan, so I'm going with Special Agent Bauer. Besides, chicks dig CTU guys.
9. What's your favorite booze? A little vague, don't you think? Why not ask me which one is my favorite child??? Ok, since I don't have kids... For beer, it's probably Pacifico or Michelob Light. (Although I tried that Michelob Ultra Amber last week and it was pretty good). For red wine, I like Pinot Noir from Oregon. White wine, I like that French stuff--Pouilly Fousse (sp?). Of course my favorite liquor is Rum, but don't ask me what my favorite rum is--too many to list. I don't have a favorite shot. I'll drink whatever you put in front of me. Except Jagermeister. I hate that shiat. But I'll still shoot it given enough peer pressure.
10. What was the last movie you've seen? In the theatre--Dead Man's Chest. At home, War of the Worlds. (Which by the way sucked complete ass)
11. Who is the most famous person you've ever met? I dunno, I've met several briefly, but the most famous one I've ever actually carried on a conversation with for more than a few minutes was Lynn Swann, old Steelers wideout. Same thing with Joe Namath.
12. If you had your choice, which trait would you most like to have-- Invisibilty, X-Ray vision, or the Ability to Fly? Wouldn't want to be invisible, because according to tv and movies, you must run around naked. I'd at least need a good pair of invisible sandals if I went that route, but I'd still be afraid of sunburn and the sudden loss of invisibility in a public place... Although flying would be cool, it would turn you into a side-show freak. So I'd go with X-Ray vision and spend most of my time in the poker room.
13. What's the dumbest thing you've ever tried to microwave? A dish of leftover casserole, with the aluminum foil still on it.
14. How much did you pay for your last gallon of gas? $3.09 for mid-grade.
15. Dinner for five, Jon Favreau style--who are your four guests? Tough question. Without overthinking it, I'd probably go with Doyle Brunson, Chris Berman, Jimmy Buffett, and Samuel L. Jackson. Rita Wilson would be our waitress, but she'd have to wear that same outfit she wore in That Thing You Do.
16. What's your favorite curse word? Asshat.
17. Where did you go on your last vacation? I took a week-long cruise to the western Caribbean in 2004. Damn, has it been that long?
18. What phobia do you have that nobody else knows about? Living in Vegas and seeing all these nasty people and working with sticky casino chips every night, I've become a total germ-0-phobe. Consequently, I have cleaner hands than a surgeon, due to the fact that I was them about a hundred times a day.
19. If you could kick one politician in the nuts and get away with it, who would it be? My esteemed Senator from Nevada, Harry Reid. Plus it would give me the chance to use my favorite curse word again, too!
20. What was the last online purchase you made? A t-shirt that says "How Can I Love You If You Won't Lie Down?"
21. What is your favorite book? Probably the one out at Red Rock! Comfy chairs, good drink service, decent lines, lots of wide-screen plasma tv's. Oh, you mean like actual book that you read... For fiction, I'd go with Wake of the Perdido Star by Gene Hackman and Daniel Lenihan. For non fiction, Blown Away by Herb Payson.
22. What kind of laundry soap do you use? Tide with bleach, I think. The label is in Spanish, so I'm not really sure...
23. Disney World, Las Vegas, Yellowstone, Branson, New Orleans, Sturgis, San Francisco, San Diego, Honolulu, or Cape Cod? I'm guessing the question isn't Name your favorite NFL team... Since I already live in Vegas, and have no desire on earth to visit Screaming Brat Central in Orlando, I'll go with San Diego. Love it. By the way, people that would choose Branson aren't really intarweb savvy, are they?
24. What's the strangest thing you put Ranch dressing on? Besides Asian strippers? Just kidding. Everyone knows they prefer to be dipped in wasabi vinaigrette! Actually, whenever I go out for pizza, I always order a side of ranch dressing to dip the crusts in. And my dirty little secret is that sometimes I don't wait till all the toppings are gone before I dip...
25. Ever been tempted to wear women's underwear? Only on my head. But as much as I'd like to go Nuke LaLoosh on occasion, I'm tempered by the fact that Victoria's Secret doesn't make anything in 5XL.
26. Now that there is no more Survivor, 24, Lost, or Prison Break, what do you watch on TV? A lot of SportCenter reruns in the morning. And the occasional Girls Gone Wild infomercial.
27. What is your next purchase that's going to cost more than $100? A new 19- or 20-inch computer monitor. Well that, and a shiatload of Hurricane Mikey t-shirts.
28. If you could be King for a day, name one law you'd implement that could never be repealed. Universal flat income tax on all wages and salary earnings, maxed out at 15%.
29. Have you ever broken 100 on the golf course? Hell no. Usually by the sixth hole the wheels have officially come off, I quit keeping score, and the rest of the day is devoted to drinking beer and hitting on the cart girl.
30. What's the most you've ever spent in the Champagne Room? Five bills, back in my rookie season. And forget that whole 'no sex in the champagne room' mantra, there's no champagne in the champagne room, either.
Mikey
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