September 1st, 1999
Let's start things off on the right foot by giving praise where praise is due. A big freaky thank you to JZ. in the neon capital of the world, Las Vegas, for his tip on the bible projectile. Very insightful. I motorvated to Sin City in the Freakymobile on a combination fact finding/gambling my life away mission. I was successful on both counts.
I have never been to Vegas before and I couldn't get over how it looked nothing like what I thought it would. I mean it was basically an adult theme park. I was hoping for guys in 3 piece suits named Vic to be playing next to me in black jack. Instead I got Bob the insurance salesman in shorts drinking a pina coloda. Meanwhile his wife keeps playing dollar slots and screaming when she wins 5 bucks back.
I guess I was born too late for the days when Vegas was a town run by men with dreams and not corporations with deep pockets. If I want costumed pirates running around a Spanish galleon I can go to a theme park here.
When I go to Vegas I want chicks in high heels prancing around on stage in a vain attempt to dance to an up tempo beat.
I want cheesy magicians whose idea of a trick is to make his assistant's top disappear.
I want Mob bosses floating down the strip in powder blue caddys with guys named "Lucky" behind the wheel.
I want comedians who actually think "take my wife, please" is a great punchline.
I want mushroom clouds sprouting in the desert while I sit on the roof of the Sand's hotel sipping an atomic cocktail.
I want Texas millionaires in 10 gallon hats to spend a grand on a toss of the dice at the craps table and call me partner when it comes up snake eyes.
I want classy hookers in mink coats with big blue eyes and capped teeth to smile at me like I'm Kojack when I come out of the elevator.
That's my dream.
Derek "rat pack" Barnes