I want to steal these damn curtains in our room; it is roughly noon and I could have sworn it was about four in the morning. Our first night here (when we got here at about 3 AM I think? Yeah.) I only slept two hours or so. We all got moving around near two in the afternoon. We wanted to grub it up, but the buffet was closed two to four (lame.) So we headed into the Boulder Cafe. I had a “Heuvos Rancheros” which was all right and would have probably been better – seemed that was how a everyone’s lunch could have gone. Our server was…well she could have been a bit better. Bob’s sister and husband came, so I got to meet Amanda’s aunt and uncle.
We planned today out – we will be heading down to the Main Strip to see all the cooky craziness. And then we all headed down to Fremont. I am trying to upload the photos now. I just reactivated my Flickr Pro, but I cannot find a decent Linux desktop publisher – and piss on uploading five at a time. I also tried to do Facebook, but their Java uploader keeps knocking FireFox on its ass. Fremont was awesome.
Overhead on the strip there is a giant, for lack of better words, half pipe of meshed metal; the badass part is that it is a giant screen. We checked out the shops, went in a few of the casinos. Man there was a lot of ugly people. Call me pretentious, call me judgemental, but I do not care; it was like being at the State Fair but no bearded women. There was one lady wearing a “Jesus Saves From Hell/Repent or Burn” t-shirt handing out apocalyptic Christian propaganda. I should have gotten my picture taken with her.
‘Round eleven at night we headed back to the hotel to gamble, gamble, gamble. I felt bad because Amanda can’t. Hell there was not much for me to do either, though, I found out I do not quite get a thrill at gambling. Maybe if I played cards but the slots just don’t attract me. I suppose it is the whole thinking and knowing it is programmed against you and the more the advertise a chance to win, the less you actually have.
Every Friday a band called the Sin City Sinners plays, they used to be in some old cock-rock band I guess. They usually have guests from large bands come and play with them; for last night they had Vinnie Paul from Pantera; Joey Belladonna from Anthrax; and another guy I just cannot remember. They covered your typical hits – I am pretty sure I missed an earlier set, too. At the end they covered Walk by Pantera; and holy SHIT. I have never seen so many drunk people pumped about one song, never mind I have. It was badassery times ten.
I headed back to where Amanda and her mom, along with Chelbie and Glen were. Karaoke was happening. There were some who were very good, including Chelbie, and some who just needed a sock in the mouth. An old couple came and sat at the table in front of us, there were pretty sloshed when they bumped into me during the band and seemed a bit more then. They were dancing, making asses of themselves, the whole normal drunk episode. But later on grandpa (yes, this old) came up and tried to pay me fifty bucks to dance with his wife. One, I doubt he’d of paid me. Two, I can’t take a drunk old mans money. Three, he told me how his wife liked young, tall, strong men and asked if I ever sat on a horse (or something.) So I think he asked me to do the do? I have no idea. I really wanted to smash him in the face, especially after he gave me a few slight arm shots because he said I had no “balls” for not dancing. Granted, he said this all jokingly; but I still wanted to whoop his ass.
After that ordeal we skipped out and gambled some, I wasn’t feeling it and Amanda was tired (can’t lie I was too.) We went to bed around 4 in the morning, just woke up nowish. She’s getting ready and then we need to meet up with her mom and Bob to get the day rolling.






So we arrived some time ago at the Boulder Station in Las Vegas. And let me tell you – the wind in Nevada carries a distinct smell of shit. We crossed the border of California and Nevada, and everyone had thought I dropped ass in the car. Lucky for them I had been holding it in until we got out of the car.
