Thursday, March 29, 2012

Anorexic??

Ice Cream Truck Knows What's Going On

Hey baby. 

I Don't Understand The Problem

Everyone knows that lady is awesome.  That kid is the one with the problem, wearing the Waldo hat and shit.  So what if Mom dropped your birthday cake in front of your friends?  If you and your friends are hungry enough, you will eat it. 

Your Mom probably drinks because you are a disappointment.


Monday, March 26, 2012

Monday Morning Story with Mookie - Episode 9

The Time Mookie Went to Las Vegas and Lost His Cell Phone

Everyone has heard the saying “What Happens in Vegas – Stays in Vegas.” I am here to tell you that shit is NOT true. In my case, “what happened” in Vegas DID NOT STAY IN VEGAS. No, no….It made it home just fine. My wife back at home found out about “what happened in Vegas.”

At 4AM.

From some strange woman named “Cheryl” calling my house.

Intrigued? I was too. Because my wife found out what had happened even before I did.
Buckle up. This is a good one.

My friend “Rick” (*) and I planned a weekend trip to Las Vegas. We left on a Friday afternoon, and would be back Monday sometime. The Las Vegas Marathon and Half-Marathon were going to be around the general time we planned on going, so we booked our trip accordingly and signed up for the half-marathon.

We arrived in Las Vegas Friday evening, and had a swell time from the get-go. Gambling and drinking were the planned activities, and we made good on those plans. It was a banner evening on both fronts.

As we had to be up at 3AM for the half-marathon on Sunday, we refrained from drunken stupidity on Saturday and just focused on the tables. We went on a successful (and hilarious) blackjack run that was topped off by a “comped” dinner at the Sahara Casino dinner buffet. We returned to our hotel by 7PM and fell asleep watching a Will Ferrell marathon on cable. All in all - another good day.

The start of the Las Vegas Marathon.  At 6AM.
The alarm woke us Sunday at 3AM, and we began our race preparation for the half-marathon. Clearly we were idiots. The race took us up the entire length of The Strip underneath all the casino lights and the visual magic they provide. This experience easily ranks as one of the cooler things I can say I have done. We both proudly finished the 13.1 miles, and went back to our hotel tired and sore.

After a quick rest, shower, and some quality food (Burger King at O’Sheas), we decided to hit Vegas HARD that last day. At first, the luck that benefited us the first two days was nowhere to be found. The casinos at the South end and middle of The Strip (Mandalay, MGM, Caesars, Imperial Palace, O’Sheas) kicked our asses. After some shopping for the wives and kids back home, we decided to head back to where we had the most luck Friday night…the North end. We hopped the Tram (Rick swears by the Tram) and rode it up to the Sahara. We played the Sahara, Circus Circus, Slots O’ Fun, and the Stratosphere. These places rule because they are old school, and cheap - which suits us just fine because we loved the $3 and $5 blackjack. (Note: The Stratosphere actually isn’t that bad of a place, but it’s just so FAR out at the end of The Strip and is a scary walk after dark.) The entertainment rolls on throughout the day and evening, and the beers are just as plentiful. (You may read a story about part of this night HERE.)

The Sahara enjoyed our gambling activity so much that they again comped us at the buffet that evening. We were living large. Around midnight, Rick decided he had enough “fun” for the day. We had been up since 3AM, and the effects of running 13.1 miles, all the beer, the food, and the fun had finally worn him down. Plus we had to get up in the morning and be at the airport by like 10AM. Does this concern Mookie? Oh hells no. I’m just getting warmed up. Rick hops the Tram for the hotel, and I head back to the casino.

.............You can probably sense the wheels will be coming off the train here shortly…….....

The tables at Sahara did NOT treat me well, so I got another beer and set out into the night for Circus Circus further down The Strip. After the lovely stroll in the dark – including a quick stop at the CVS Pharmacy along the way for a Bud Light tall boy and Gummy Worms – I arrived at Circus Circus. I quickly found a hopping $5 game of blackjack, and settled in for some fun. It was an outstanding table as the Bud Light was flowing and the vibe from the players at the table was great. The people I was playing with were collectively the worst blackjack players ever, but MY GOD they were hilarious. Our table had this gimmick game called “Wheel of Madness.” In addition to your normal wager, you could make a separate side-bet that you were going to get blackjack. If you got a blackjack and had a side-bet on the table, you got to spin the “Wheel of Madness.” The wheel would spin, and the dealer handed you a button to stop the wheel. You hit the button and the wheel would slow to a stop. Whatever number it landed on, it was the “multiplier” of your side bet. So if you had a $1 bet and hit the number 11, you won $11. Through my joyful and excited influence, I had everyone at the table betting the “Wheel of Madness” side-bet. It was comical. When a blackjack hit, the table would ERUPT. You’d think we were winning thousands of dollars here. Yeah, we are talking like five bucks.

The waitress rolls by asking for orders, to which I request another Bud Light. She says they just ran out. “HOW DO YOU RUN OUT OF BUD LIGHT?” I blurt out. “I don’t know” was all the lady could mutter. I ordered a Budweiser, and continued my game.

After about another 30 minutes of going up and down in chips, I decided it was time to get out while I was ahead and seek my entertainment elsewhere. I colored up, cashed out at the cashier, used the restroom quick, and made my way out of the casino. As I left the building, I did a quick assessment of my belongings by patting down all my pockets. Uh oh. The one pocket I carry my phone in was empty.

A quick re-check of all the pockets did not find the phone there either. I turned and quickly re-entered the casino and headed for the blackjack table I was sitting at. My phone was not there. I retraced my steps from the table to the restroom, and back. I crawled all around the floor near the blackjack table, but to no avail. I asked the pit boss - who was curiously watching me crawl on the casino floor - if someone had turned in a “lost” cell phone. They said that if someone did, it would have been turned into the "lost and found" with security.
Circus Circus Lost and Found phone number and hours
of operation.  Make sure you call and say "Hi."
I made my way to the security desk, and inquired about my phone. Sensing my anxiousness, along with my obvious inebriation and stupidity, the security guard decided to screw with me for about 10 minutes. Finally, he admitted that no one had turned in a cell phone and proceeded to give me the phone number of Circus Circus Lost and Found, and their business hours. Yeah, that helps. I’m leaving Vegas in the morning even before it opens. Thanks for nothing tool bag.

I didn't know what to do at that point. My real concern was that someone could be fraudulently using my phone, and I’d have to pay for the B.S. that would follow that. So I did what any normal married man would do at 3AM when he’s somewhere drunk and in trouble: I decided to call my wife back home.

Since I had no phone, I figured I'd have to call collect from a payphone or something. But then, some brain cell that I hadn't killed that night magically remembered our home phone had a special 1-800 number you could call, and it would call directly home. An emergency calling card if you will. I tried my best to remember the number, found a payphone and made the call. The number rang, and my sleepy and irritated-sounding-wife answered. I tried my best to sound as sober as I could, but my abilities aren’t THAT great.

WIFE: "Hello?"

MOOKIE: "Hey, it's me. Um, I lost my phone."

WIFE: "I know. WHO. IS. CHERYL?"

Needless to say, I was confused at how she knew about the phone, and did not understand her question.

MOOKIE: "I, um. What? Who? I don't know. Who?  Who is Cheryl?"


WIFE: "What?  You didn't get her name?"

After trying to convince my wife I had NO idea who "Cheryl" was, she then proceeded to tell me that some lady named "Cheryl" called our house twice from MY cell phone. The first time she hung up. The 2nd time she left this message on our answering machine:

"Hi, this is Cheryl. I found your cell phone at the hotel."

She then left her cell phone number to call.

Needless to say, my wife was not happy. There was some strange lady calling our house at 4AM telling stories about finding my cell phone at “the hotel.” When my wife heard the message, she called my friend Rick. She became further agitated when he told her he had "no idea" where I was because he had returned to the hotel - without me - hours ago. Then here I come calling, drunk and slurring my words saying I lost my phone. It goes without saying that immediate explanations were necessary.

Given the condition I was in, there was no way I could remember “Cheryl’s” 10-digit phone number, so I had to hang up and go find something to write "Cheryl's" number down with. In the meantime, my wife called Rick again and gave him "Cheryl's" phone number so he could call her and tell her to take the phone to security. After what was like 15 minutes, I find a pen and paper and called my wife back. She tells me about the Rick-to-Cheryl call, and how Cheryl was instructed to take the phone to security. I again tried to explain what I had been doing, that I was alive and well, and I had NO idea who this "Cheryl" person was, nor were there any shenanigans going on with her or anyone. When our conversation ended, while still suspicious, she did believe me (I think). She was mainly (and understandably) pissed at how my problem occurring 1,500 miles away in Vegas at 4AM also became her problem. The kids were total shits while I was gone, so I wasn’t winning any points with this screw up.  They had been sick, throwing up, and just being a pain.  And I was in Vegas.  Seems fair right? 

So she was short on sleep and full on frustration by the time my problems landed in her lap.

I returned to Security and the guard again proceeded to dick with me. His cocky attitude made it obvious he had my phone. After just being put through the wringer with my wife, I had no time for his shit. Finally I just blurted out "Can I have my phone please?" He asked me to describe it, so in DETAIL, I told him the phone brand, phone color, and wallpaper screen pictures in the phone. He finally relented and I left the casino with my phone. Dick.

Due to the events of the prior 30 minutes, I had certainly lost my buzz, and no longer had the desire to gamble and drink the rest of the night. I then made the 45 minute walk clear down The Strip from Circus Circus back to my hotel. Most of the way back, I pondered how much trouble I'd be in when I got home.  I also cursed this stupid "Cheryl" person who found it necessary to hang onto the phone for 30 minutes, and call my house twice instead of turning it into security to begin with. The fact that it was my drunk-ass fault I lost the phone to begin with - seemed irrelevant at the time. I am an idiot though.

PROLOGUE
I never got to meet or talk to Cheryl. It would have been nice to put a face with name that still haunts me to this day. While my wife has gained a bit of sense of humor about the situation, she still exhibits some of the ire she felt early that morning when the topic comes up. Whenever I'm going out somewhere, my wife often says:

"Be careful, and be sure to tell Cheryl hi for me."


(*) -Name changed to protect the guilty/innocent.

"Cheryl" is Cheryl's real name.  If I knew her whole name, you can guarantee I'd print that shit.

Miss an earlier episode of Monday Morning Stories with Mookie?  Click HERE.

Monday, March 19, 2012

Monday Morning Stories With Mookie - Episode 8

The Time Mookie Could Not Lose In Las Vegas


I have been to Las Vegas approximately NINE times (Say that again like the “Ferris Bueller” snore-counting computer….NIIIIINNNNEEE TIIIMMEES). Of those nine times, I can honestly say I have left that city “a true winner” two (2) of those times. By “true winner” I mean I won enough to pay for the trip. I’ve had 3 or 4 successful trips (left with about the same amount of money in my pocket as I started with, but did not pay for flight/hotel), probably two that I didn’t do so great financially but still had fun, and one trip that almost ruined Vegas for me in every way, shape and form. But that is another story I may or may not tell another time.

Oddly, my first two trips to Vegas were the most profitable. My Then-Fiancee-Now Wife "Megan (*)" and I made our first trip to Vegas for Spring Break during my senior year of college. We stayed cheap (Circus Circus), played cheap, and wandered around enough to blister the shit out of Megan’s feet. Along the way, I had a few random wins at the slot machines (which is odd since I’m not a fan of them), and did pretty well at blackjack down at O’Sheas. I came home with enough coin in my pocket to pay off the trip, pay off the credit card, and make my 1st month’s rent on the apartment Megan and I would soon be moving into. You can’t beat that.

Fast-forward seven months, and we are back in Vegas. This wasn’t just any trip though. Megan and I were back in town to get married. It was a planned event, and various family and friends came out and had a great time with us. The stars must have been lined up or something because it was on this trip I rocked every blackjack table I sat at. EVERY. ONE.

When Megan and I left for Vegas, for some reason I only took about $125 in cash. That’s it. I had more in my account, but didn’t want to take it all. I reasoned that I could hit an ATM somewhere if need be. Vegas said, “No, that’s ok. I'll help you out.”

We hit the town, and gambling and fun ensued. Megan informs me that we need to go downtown the next day and get our marriage license. It supposedly costs like $40. “Better head to the tables then.” I say. We head to Oshea's and the magic starts. WIN. Then we head to Barbary Coast: SERIOUS WIN. Looking back, I was only playing $5 a hand. I can’t even imagine what would have happened if I had been betting more. The next day we made our way downtown on the bus (an experience in itself). We got the marriage license, paid for bus fare, bought dinner, etc with my winnings. The next day, we remembered that we needed to “tip” the minister for the wedding (I know! WTF right?). “Well, we better head to the tables."

Monte Carlo: WIN. Barbary Coast again: WIN. It was glorious. I never walked away from a table without winning at least $100.

Then of course that afternoon I had the biggest WIN of the trip, and my life in general...I got married to Megan (Awww. Gag. Cough cough dry heave).

After the wedding festivities were over, what did we do? Headed back to Barbary Coast of course! You can guess how that went... BIG WIN.

It was an awesomely WIN filled trip. I probably used up my collective luck on that trip because I haven’t had a run even close to something like that again.

Well...I hope it does on a future trip. It might be awhile before I see Vegas again though. You can read about the reason for that next week when we close out our March Spring Break Vegas stories. Later.

Friday, March 16, 2012

Thursday, March 15, 2012

One Of Those Days

You know it's going to be a terrible day when you are in a hurry and your orangutan throws up all over hell.

Monday, March 12, 2012

Monday Morning Stories With Mookie - Episode 7


The Time Mookie Told The Craps Guy to “F Off,” Saw A Pit Boss Get Nervous Over $100, and Partied With The Blonde Twins

One time I was in Vegas with "Junior" (*) and we stayed at the glorious Stardust.  This old girl has since been demolished (in 2006) and I hate the people responsible for it.  They started building a monstrosity called "Echelon Place" on the site, and had to stop in 2008 due to financial issues.  So now a hardly-built metal frame sits on an empty lot of gravel.  The Stardust was a gem, and a time capsule into the "Classic Vegas" days.  Anyway...this rant can wait for another day.

Junior and I set out one day during our stay, and our only agenda was drinking and gambling (in that order).  During our walk down The Strip, we found ourselves in the GAWD AWFUL Holiday Inn Boardwalk Hotel and Casino.  This place was a shithole.  I say "was" because someone did the world a favor and blew the f*cker up to build something else.  It was a terrible place.  We were drawn into a $3 blackjack game, and found it quite lively for such a junky venue.  Sadly, the cards did not fall right for me, and I expended $20 rather quickly.  The bright point was that Junior was holding even, and the beer waitress was rather prompt.  Mookie and Junior worked this to our advantage.  She was coming faster than Junior could put them away, so he would order a beer, and we'd time it so when she showed up, he'd give her an empty and take the new one.  Then when she left, we'd give the new one to whoever needed it.  We did this for an hour and it worked like a charm. 

May 9, 2006 - A Great Day In Las Vegas History
The Day They Blew Up The Boardwalk.
Meanwhile some college kid from Penn State was at the table, and was losing with tremendous flair.  Finally, he'd had enough and decided he wanted to win all of his money back.  So what did he do?  Emptied his pockets and put $100 on the table.  This got the attention of the Pit Boss immediately.  He whispered something to the dealer, and then stood there as the dealer dealt out to the table.  The entire table was rooting for Mr. Penn State.  He was dealt an 18, and stood firm.  The dealer dealt out to himself and busted.  The table erupted due to the windfall for the college kid.  The Pit Boss looked angry, and walked away.  We asked the dealer what the Pit Boss said, and he said something about being fired if the kid won.  He said he was half kidding, but they didn't like people up and betting that much money.  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?  This is how bad this place was.  Any other casino would be like YES!  BET $100!  WE LOVE YOU.  This place was scared of action. 

This brings us to what I did next.

I am wandering this poor excuse for a casino, and they had this little Craps game going.  I say "little," because it was 1/2 the size of a regular Craps table, and was meant for "speed" play.  Plus it was a $3 minimum table.  I like Craps, so I buy in with $20.  I was the only one playing, so the guy slid me the dice, and I picked them up, shook them and threw them down the table.  They bounced around, the stickman slid me the dice again, I made my bets, and I threw them again.  I hit my point, and got paid.  The stickman slides me the dice and with attitude goes "This isn't a normal craps table.  Don't throw the dice across the table.  Just roll them in front of you.  Its supposed to be a speedy game." 

I give him the "WTF" look.  What is this guy's deal?  I'm the only one playing here.  What needs to be so speedy?  This is Craps.  You roll/throw the dice down the table.  That's what you do. 

So I place my bets, and throw the dice down the table.  He says again, "Don't throw the dice.  Just roll them in front of you."  So I go "WHY?  This is Craps.  You throw the dice down the table."  He comes back with "It is so the game is faster."  I reply with the logic of "I'm the only one playing."

He slides the dice to me again, and I continue my present course of dice throwing.  I hit my point, and get paid.  The stickman stops the game, and is holding the dice in front of him.  He says in a very pissy tone: "I told you not to throw the dice."

I pick up my chips, looked the stickman in the eyes and said "F*ck. Off."  I turned and walked away as he seemed astonished at my choice of words and lack of respect for his "authority."  I cashed out and Junior and I got out of that dump.
One of the Twins rocking out -
©2012 Mookie5150

Later than night, Junior and I happened through Harrah's casino, and in a bar just inside the casino entrance were two blonde twins playing piano.  They were doing a "Dueling Pianos" gig, and they were GOOD.  It was about 5 minutes before closing, but it was obvious these chicks put on a show.  Junior goes, "We are coming back tomorrow night."

The Dueling Piano Twins at Harrah's -
©2012 Mookie5150

So the next night, Junior makes sure we are there even before the show starts.  He wants to see the hot blonde twins.  He starts ordering beer, and makes a night of it.  The twins of course were fabulous, and Junior was in his heights of glory. 
The twins - Kim and Tamara Pinegar - (http://www.twinkeys.com/) rocked the bar for like 4 hours, and we of course sat there and drank the entire show.  They played requests, and the entire bar would sing along to the songs.  After about 4 beers it was just a grand time.  Needless to say, we  closed down the bar, and Junior was way hammered. 

If you are familiar with Vegas, you know the distance between Harrah's and Stardust is not short (even though it looks it).  We walked clear back to the Stardust and hit bed about 3AM.  What time did we have to be up to get to the airport?  4:30AM.  Junior passed out.  I stayed up because I knew I'd feel like hell if I went to sleep.  I felt like hell anyway, but it was worth it.

Man I love Vegas.

(*) Names changed to protect the guilty/innocent.

Thursday, March 08, 2012

Wednesday, March 07, 2012

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

Today is my youngest sister's birthday. She is an X-Ray Technician, and gets the "privilege" to photograph the innards of the patients that happen through her doors at the hospital. She also does mammograms too...which leads me to a public service announcement...because the staff and I here at Breathtaking and Inappropriate care about you:

Ladies, get your mammograms! They save lives. Do it for yourself and your loved ones. They love you and want you around for awhile. Hell, do it for everyone. Boobs make the world a better place.

And so do you.

Plus, I know my sister and her collegues would be honored to feel you up and squeeze your hoots in a vice.
Thank you.

Back to my sister's birthday:

MLA-D - HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I hope you have a great day.

Love,
Your brother Mookie

In your honor, here is an x-ray tech looking at an x-ray of someone's crotch. Happy Birthday.


Monday, March 05, 2012

Monday Morning Stories with Mookie - Episode 6

Since it is now March, that can only mean one thing:  Spring Break Vacation.  To celebrate Spring Break, all of the "Monday Morning Stories with Mookie" episodes in March will be about something that happened in my favorite vacation destination:  LAS VEGAS.  Enjoy.

The Time Mookie Tried to Get "Comped" Show Tickets In Vegas

Rick(*) and I were in Las Vegas one time, and we were ROCKING the town.  We were easily the most entertaining people at every blackjack table we played at.  While we were playing at the Sahara, even the dealers and pit bosses loved us.  If we needed beer, the dealers and pit bosses would yell for the waitress to come around and set us up.  Plus they knew we tipped so that helped keep the rounds coming.  Our table was awesome.  When the table would win, we'd cheer like we won a thousand bucks.  The highlight at the table was a lady who called herself "Tan Tan."

Tan Tan was by far one of the most entertaining people Rick and I had ever played cards with.  She talked utter nonsense and had these little "sayings' she would use during the game.  These sayings of course became catchphrases Rick and I would use the rest of the trip.  If she got a crappy hand, she'd call the dealer by name and say: "Come on Tim!  Give me something I can work with."  Then when the dealer would deal to themselves, Tan Tan would say: "Walk it out."  To her this meant the dealer would play enough cards to bust, and she would win.  This went on for hours.  We started copying her "catchphrases" and she loved us.  My favorite part was that she kept saying she wanted to win enough so she could go eat at Olive Garden that night.  "Oh I gots to get me some Olive Garden. MMM MM."  Never mind the fact she had over $100 in chips in front of her.  Plus her teeth were not entirely pleasant either.  But either way, Tan Tan ruled at Sahara.

After awhile, we decided to seek our entertainment elsewhere.  Since we had already taken the Tram as far north as it would go (Rick swears by the Tram), we decided to walk to our next destination: The Stratosphere.  Now, The Strat isn't the worst place in the world.  Its actually kinda nice, but it is SO FAR out up the Strip you don't want to walk there.  Plus at night, it is not the most comforting neighborhood.

We get to the Strat, sign up for Player Cards and immediately start gambling to get free shit.  Within 20 minutes, Rick and I each scored nice Stratosphere t-shirts for playing some dumb video blackjack game and getting enough credits.  It goes without saying we have been knee-deep in the beer all day, so we are having some fun.

I settle into a live blackjack game and Rick joined in soon thereafter.  During deck shuffles and chip transactions, its not uncommon for some players to be "social" with other players at the table.  It usually involves asking if you are "up" on the trip, or where you are from.  For some reason during the evening Rick started giving out fake information to people like a fake name, fake hometown, and a fake occupation.  I didn't even blink and followed his play with this.  It just got obnoxious and we didn't care.  It was Las Vegas baby!  We'd say what we "did" for a living, and what "town" we were from.  I think we even acted like we didn't know each other at one point.  As time pressed on, we started calling the other players at the table by whatever city or state they said they were from.  "Aw c'mon New Jersey!  Why'd you hit that?"  "Nice job Reno."  Eventually, it evolved into calling people what they were drinking.  At one point while we were playing with guys we called "Tequila Sunrise" and "Whiskey Sour," our table went on an unprecedented win streak.  It was awesome.

Now, the entire time we are playing at Stratosphere, they are pimping and advertising their resident show at the hotel called "Bite."  The ads on the TVs and whatnot showed the faces of female vampires complete with fangs and fake blood. Nothing real original.  Eventually I inquired to the dealer what the story was on this "Bite" show.  He tells us that it is actually pretty good, and in a nutshell it is topless female vampires that dance around to rock music.  He suddenly had my direct attention.  Topless vampires dancing to rock music??  He continues on and says its "classic" rock music, and then there are parts of the show where they go into the audience and bring people on stage. 

WHAT??!!

Well, that's it.  I decided that my mission for the rest of the night was to get "comped" tickets for Rick and I to see the hot topless vampire show.  First, I continued chatting up the dealer to see what I needed to do to make this happen.

"So how does one go about getting some free vampire tickets?

He told me I'd have to talk to the pit boss about that.  Crap.  So while I wait for Mr. Pit Boss to come around, I am trying to stack my chips up all nice and big and have my Players Club card is sitting there to remind him they are "rating" me.  A few minutes later the Pit Boss wandered by our table and stopped to see how we were all doing.  Rick and I had been on his radar all night anyway due to our boisterous shenanigans, so he was watching our chip stacks.

"So.  How's that Vampire Show you guys got here?"  I ask.

"It's pretty good.  You should check it out."  he says.

He then turned and walked away and did not even give my subtle inquiry any thought.  Time to step it up.  The next time he wandered by, I say: 

"You know, I think my action here tonight should warrant some vampire tickets."

The pit boss goes "Ehh, I think you might need to play a bit longer."  To which I reply: "Dude, I'm winning here!  You don't want me to do that."  He came back with "Well, the tickets are two-for-one tonight.  You should hit the box office before they close.  It's a good show."  He then walked away again.

So now I'm not only drunk, I'm pissed and drunk - never a good combination.  AND I have no vampire tickets.  So now I know he knows I want vampire tickets, and for some reason he isn't keen on giving them up to Mr. Bud Light sitting at the "2nd base" spot at Blackjack table 13.  I had to try one more time because there was no way I was paying a dime for these vampire tickets.

The next time he came by, he unquestionably blew me off.  I could not believe it.  My quest for vampire tickets had left me disgusted and disgruntled.  So. I decided to do what any other rational drunk idiot playing blackjack would do - Every time I saw the Pit Boss was in earshot of our table, I would blurt out:

"VAMPIRE TICKETS!" 

I'm sure Rick was glad he had been acting like he didn't know me at this point. 

"VAMPIRE TICKETS!" 
"VAMPIRE TICKETS!" 
"VAMPIIIIREE TICKETTTSSS!"

Needless to say, I did not get vampire tickets and we left a short time later.

I am however happy to report that our good play did not go unloved that night.  We headed back to the Sahara for more gambling and they COMPED us at their big dinner buffet that night. 

YEEEAHHH!  So screw you Stratosphere!  YEAH!  Rick and I got comped at the Sahara!  YEAH!!  Rick and I had an ENDLESS buffet of bland tasteless food while YOU were all sitting there with your... big... skyscraper.. tower.., and.. your... topless.. vampire.. women... dancing... and ...shaking.. their... boobs..... to classic Van Halen....... (crying)

I hate you Stratosphere.

 (*) Name changed to protect the guilty/innocent



Saturday, March 03, 2012

Friday, March 02, 2012

Lent Silliness

I liked this.  One of my other favorite jokes is when I hear people talking about what they are giving up for Lent, I like to interject and go: "I'm giving up hope for Lent."

Thursday, March 01, 2012

Star Wars Characters Having A Bad Day

Poor Darth.  You blow up his Death Star (twice), and leave him homeless.  What do you get when you have an old homeless guy?  An old guy wandering the local mall, that's what.








































What's Han Solo doing now that he's defeated the Empire, and hopefully got out of the Ewok village?
He's a cop riding a girls bike, that's what.  Tough times my friends.