A Momentary Detour.

To be perfectly honest, October was a very difficult month for me.

It started out well enough with my roadtrip to Texas. It was a very pleasant reconnection with family and friends that was long overdue, and it gave me a lot to think about on that long drive home. I’ve said numerous times in the past that I have lived many lives during my time on this planet, but I find it very important to have an overall recurring theme throughout that timeline, meaning that my past is still very much who I am today, or a part of who I will become tomorrow. I’ve never understood those who have attempted to run from their history. For better or for worse, it defines the very core of yourself, and those lessons have to retain value even in your present. They are, after all, what got you this point in your life. I find my personal history to be a very valuable teacher for the parts that I can still incorporate and use. For lack of a better phrase, it keeps me honest. Each part to this day is still very much “me”.

But the past can backfire against you as well. In this case, I had to pay off a very ill-mannered debt collector that tried to sue me this month.

An old mistake on my part, one that I did owe, but while there is a never a “good time” for these instances to spring up, this was the worst possible scenario.

The debt collector was as expected: unpleasant, aggressive, and unreasonable, “time” and “available funds” not being of any reality-based concern, but after launching my own legal-based chess moves against him, I got the matter settled. His office was… interesting, to say the least. The sort of office that you could easily clear out in less than an hour if push came to shove, and the reception area had a huge bulletproof shield where you had to communicate through a tiny drawer. I’m thinking he doesn’t make too many genuine friends in his line of work.

Understandably, the experience put me into a deep funk this month, and in many respects, forced me to question things even more than I have been the past few weeks. A lot of self-realizations, deciding what it is that I want/need, and even a “fan” stalking that I tend to get from time to time. As I’ve said, the past is a very helpful tool, but one still needs to grow. Some people tried to make a joke out of the situation. Others tried to snap me out of my isolation and help me back on my feet. One of said friends was a newer friend of mine by the name of Kevin.

We went hiking one Saturday morning on the Nevada/Arizona border. Our group consisted of Kevin, his two dogs and myself. We hiked the Liberty Bell Arch, going through several deep canyons, and finally reaching an opening that led directly to the Colorado River.

It was there that I discovered my love of hot springs.

Truth be told, my only real knowledge of hot springs came from Kid Icarus during my Nintendo days:

Not the best of real-world examples.

Not the best of real-world examples.

A long hike in.

A long hike in.

Just a climb away....

Just a climb away….

But as we got closer, the water got warmer. I was ready to be refreshed, and splashed my face as we got to our destination.

“Uh, you might not want to do that”, Kevin said as I cupped my hands and flushed my face with the warm water. “What? Why”, I asked, and immediately saw the reason as I readjusted my glasses:

Oh, come on, man....

Oh, come on, man….

You’ve got to be shitting me at this point. Don’t even bother looking this thing up. You can splash water on your face all day, but don’t let it get up your nasal passages. These brain-eating amoebas can kill you in a little over a week, and have a 95-99% fatality rate. Considering that I am here to write all of this and not in my potential death throes at this point means that I have nothing to worry about. I could drink a glass of that water and be fine. Just don’t get it up the nose. But if I were to go, that would be a “Well, that’s just Guy” sort of thing that would fit well within my idiom.

Still, the springs were just lovely and relaxing:

IMG_3820

On the hike back, I learned that while I am a good walker, and am in reasonably decent shape, I am just not a power climber. Slogging up hills, I was wheezing like an old man, also having drank too much bottled water, my stomach was acting up and sloshing. As we got back to the main trail that led in to our earlier hike, I took a moment to pause, and rather forcibly got that water out of my system. Let me tell you: I will hike until I puke. I am that hardcore. In my defense, it was a lot of miles.

But you know something? I had a great time. I needed this particular conversation to happen. It helped me remember what lasts for a lifetime versus what lasts for a moment.

The rest of the week was spent getting ready for the Las Vegas Halloween Parade, of which I marched in again this year. Surprisingly no photos of myself, by I did wear a toga.

As always, Downtown had some great vehicles and costumes:

Steampunk car.

Steampunk car.

A Mini Trek.

A Mini Trek.

An old friend from my past....

An old friend from my past….

Rhino car.

Rhino car.

Dragon car.

Dragon car.

With flames, naturally.

With flames, naturally.

After the parade, I headed by the Museum for a quick “Hello”, and ended up serving drinks for a while. You know, if I’m going to end up serving wine, there really was no better choice of an outfit than a toga.

The day after, I went to the open house of Lonnie Hammargren, a former brain surgeon and Lieutenant Governor. This year is said to be the last year he is ever doing this, and I just had to go. I’ve been wanting to for years.

I can’t… I can’t even begin to describe this house. It was everything that I could have wanted, and nothing that I could have prepared for. Three houses combined into one giant frankenabode, it is a collection of uncountable stairwells, trains, submarines, spaceships, casino decor and signage, rollercoasters, dinosaurs, observatories, shrunken heads, a full stage, an underground mine(!) I’ve seen a lot of crazy stuff in my time, but I was trying to wrap my head around how unabashedly awesome this house is.

Pictures fail to do it justice:

IMG_3869

One of the many pools.

One of the many pools.

Another view.

Another view.

Casinos and rollercoasters.

Casinos and rollercoasters.

Trains.

Trains.

One of the many rooms.

One of the many rooms.

Jungle rooms.

Jungle rooms.

More jungle.

More jungle.

E.T. Dinosaurs.

E.T. Dinosaurs.

Dragons.

Dragons.

The stage with performers.

The stage with performers.

The underground mine.

The underground mine.

Lonnie himself.

Lonnie himself.

This is only a small sample. I could have taken hundreds of pictures and never covered everything. Lonnie himself is a hoot… and took quite a shine to Jen. “If you leave me for him, in this case, I’ll understand why”, I conceded.

At the end of my adventures, I realize that I am still on the path to “Happy”. There will be setbacks, and moments that I have to really take into consideration, nurture, and in some cases, change, or simply let go. But I am hoping for less setbacks and faster recoveries, and my resolve is set more than ever to find out both the moments and lifetime that I am searching for.

As always, I move forward.

Another Month of Adventures.

And so, here I am with another month’s hiatus due to working every day for the month of June. In counting, there was actually not a single day off that I had when I wasn’t doing some gig, film, or other task.

The month started out promisingly enough. I got cast as the lead of some “super secret” television project that will supposedly air in September on A&E. While I can’t divulge on plot details as of yet, I did play a fictionalized version of myself adventuring around Las Vegas. And while the interpretation of my character wasn’t 100% accurate to my day to day outings, the alcohol certainly was enough (and the resulting headache the next morning.

Still, the ride for the outing was nice enough.:

LIMOZEEN!

LIMOZEEN!

As the month progressed, and the days got hotter and hotter, I did have my usual assortment of adventures.

I saw two tribute bands at House of Blues: “Super Diamond” (Neil Diamond), and “Fan Halen” (Van Halen). Entertaining enough, I learned a few things whilst I was attending these two shows:

1.) I do not know these artist’s back catalog as well as I thought past the “Greatest Hits” fare.

2.) Older women were freaking out and having religious moments about these acts like they were the real thing. It wasn’t so much that they would have thrown their underwear at them per se, but I think if given the opportunity, they would have thrown their very eggs at them instead. They were getting REALLY hot and bothered about these acts, becoming a whole new level of the show itself.

Outside of the pounding biological clocks on display, the Neon Museum crew and I got up at some ungodly hour to gamble in a pop-up trailer and celebrate the brief reopening on the Moulin Rouge, which was the first racially integrated casino back in 1955.

The gang.  And doughnuts.

The gang. And doughnuts.

To be honest, there’s not a lot left of the place. Multiple fires have razed the property to the ground, and what’s left is in a bad neighborhood with only the merest of hints that something historical actually existed there.

The Moulin Rouge property.

The Moulin Rouge property.

Moulin2

But it was still interesting to see all the same.

E3 came and went, another year that I haven’t gone (and I’m getting the urge something terrible to go again), and in the midst of all the video gaming chaos held in Los Angeles, I did get to finish the pond in my backyard.

Stardust models the goods.

Stardust models the goods.

Then came the Licensing Expo, where I worked with one of the big video game companies, and was fitted for another huge costume (I like to call the bulky suits where you can barely move the “Tank Edition” of costumes).

I played this giant creature from some Pokemon/Digimon style game, while my gig partner Christal played a more recognizable character. The costume didn’t have much to offer in the way of visibility or mobility, but the client was really nice and cool to hang out with, and once the gig was over, we were free to tour the show floor.

Among our many travels we met the creator of those little “Homies” vending machine toys. While he thanked Christal for owning some of the toys over the years, he just naturally assumed that I wouldn’t own any. I found that to smack of stereotyping. Come on now, for all he knew, I could have dedicated the west wing of my home into a shrine for Homies, complete with ceremonial candles and a tambourine. Don’t tell me I’m not the targeted demographic.

….

Okay, so I’ve actually never owned any Homies, but I can still pick and choose where to be outraged.

I did, however, meet Grumpy Cat:

No.

No.

Also No.  And I fear that I am veering dangerously close to "duckfacing".

Also No. And I fear that I am veering dangerously close to “duckfacing”.

She’s so tiny! Eeeeee!

As the month of June wrapped, so did Mall Cop 2, leading into periodic acting opportunities for the last two months, and a solid number of days on set. One of the shoots even gave me an chance to check that new shopping area beside the Linq, and I have to admit: It’s actually nicer than what I was anticipating.

The final days have been trying to find ways to improve my general attitude for myself and for the immediate world around me. That’s a whole other post in itself, but I have been really rethinking about how I want to help people or improve life around me. Someone had pointed out earlier in the month that I seem to derive enjoyment out of helping other people, and I think there’s some truth to that. On the other hand, it’s also finding a way to maintain a fine balance out of “helping others” versus “being used”, because that line can be crossed very quickly here. I’m trying some new things. Let’s see what happens.

Today marks the first day of being off for a month. I think I’m going to spend the rest of my day doing… well, nothing, really.

I’ve Seen Fire and I’ve Seen Rain….

We don’t have a lot of weather here, but when we do, it’s ridiculous.

The first part of the month was spent with Las Vegas on fire:

The neighborhood view.

The neighborhood view.

Down the street.....

Down the street…..

Mt. Charleston caught on fire due to a freak lightning storm, and as a result, burned an area out of the forest larger than the size of Manhattan. For me, it was a period of orange skies, smoky air, and a memory of San Diego from 2003 and 2007. The ironic part of it all was that one of the reasons I wanted to move from California back in the day was that I was tired of these out of control fires, and wanted to live somewhere where that wouldn’t happen.

….

In any case, the fire has been tamed, and life goes on.

And life has been… slow lately, mostly due to work. I’ve been doing a lot of writing lately for this one contract job. While the work is more technical is subject than I usually go for by personal choice, but the scheduling and pay is nice, and the boss is decent. Not overcritical about anything, and actually *gasp* pays on time without me having to remind him a half dozen times over a period of 2-3 months. It happens a lot in freelance, which can be annoying. If you want me to perform my duties and provide results in a timely manner, then at least keep good on the responsibilities on your end. It’s so nice working for someone who gives as much as he asks for.

Freelancing may seem glamorous, but I never know where my next job is coming from unless I make something happen, or someone looks out for me.

After a solid week and a half of work every day (reminding me well of my days at Midway), I did get a little down time to have fun. One of my old friends came into town as part of a business trip, so I got to hang out for a few.

I knew Josh since my adventures in San Diego. He and his family moved to New Jersey a few years back, and were now in the process of moving to the West Coast again. So while he was in town, we hung out for food, drinks, and gaming.

The old West Coast.

The old West Coast.

It was a really nice visit. I find it funny that I have more regular visitors and guest in Las Vegas than I ever did while living in California. Pretty much no one visited me there from “the old days”, and now I get guests all the time. It’s nice. And Vegas is a fun city to play in.

There was also the matter of “Santa Rampage”, a Burner themed pub crawl that happens around Christmas and “Christmas in July”.

A sampling of the debauchery.

A sampling of the debauchery.

It’s a fun event, watching a couple hundred Santas run up and down Fremont Street, and of course in order to participate, you have to get into the holiday spirit”

Rocking a Star Wars Christmas shirt.

Rocking a Star Wars Christmas shirt.

This was a slightly stranger event, as Vegas’ other weather moment happened: Monsoon season. This is the part where streets flood, casino roofs collapse, and lights go out. Half of Fremont was dark as the Yuletide spirit took over, but the party raged on without a second thought. IT rained for a few days, and while that was appreciated, we also had our fair share of high gust winds and power outages. It’s not easy watching movie or playing games when the power goes out every five minutes.

Now that I have my last big project under control to work with in better time allowances, I should be able to update more regularly. But I am glad to have a moment of “normalcy” mixed in with a steady paycheck these days.

Fool Me Once….

The house thing was still out of control.

The “peace treaty” that I established with my housing team only lasted a few days before they went back to their usual hijinks and BS. And it was starting to affect everything: My job, my social life, I was still having to drop everything at any given time to put out some “fire” that the house issue was causing, and in itself, became a full time job, which wrapped up my time on The Revenant.

As for the house, the appraisal came in at less than the market value, so the bank canceled the deal on us at the 11th hour, and put it back on the market without telling us for $5,000 less than its original price. They basically have said they want to not pay what it’s actually worth, and wanted to see if they can get a higher price from someone else who isn’t aware of that previous knowledge. The loan was approved. The appraisal and inspection were done. The bank in charge just got greedy and wanted more money that it wasn’t owed. So the offer had to be resubmitted for the appraised price in hopes that someone with a brain would take the new price. We ultimately ended up declining, and demanding what money we could get back.

While all this was happening, Junie scraped her eye on a branch, and had to wear “the Cone of Shame”. It was stressful enough dealing with an injured dog, but it was even worse as I had to basically justify every expenditure I made to my mortgage guy to ensure that I was still “eligible”. And vet bills are never cheap.

Coney.

Coney.

Still, I kept busy just doing outside activities. I was in front of the computer so much faxing papers and looking up info., that I was going stir crazy at the thought of being in all day.

So I walked the dogs:

Also my cell phone wallpaper.

Also my cell phone wallpaper.

Driving back out to Beatty/Rhyolite for more photo ops:

It gets hot during the Summer.

It gets hot during the Summer.

Ha!  This place was hiding behind the gas station at the mid point between Vegas and Beatty.

Ha! This place was hiding behind the gas station at the mid point between Vegas and Beatty.

As for new house searches, you just learn how weird so many homes are out here. One home had a chicken coop in the backyard that the neighborhood homeless had taken over. Another looked like it was designed by Salvador Dali, with a bathroom so small, that even I had trouble squeezing into due to the doorway being so close to the sink. Another one looked like a barbeque restaurant with swinging saloon doors and stained glass windows. I kind of liked that one.

And then there was the one that was apparently cobbled together out of seven mobile homes that merged to make one monstrosity of a house.

It was near an alley where more homeless live, as evidenced by the clothing and debris on the other side of the house wall that they could jump over and enter the yard. The house is situated right next to a major highway, so for the lovely backyard view, you’d get hobos living under an overpass accentuated by the honey dulcet tones of speeding cars.

But wait! There’s more!

In the middle of the yard is this huge metal tube with steps. Curiosity compelled, so I climbed to the top and looked inside. Inside is a pit that has zero practical use for anything. The real winner is this concrete slab next to it. “What the Hell is this? A pool?”, I wondered aloud, as I stood on top of it. There was a huge metal door on top, which after a bit of effort, I pulled open.

A moment of silence passed, and then: “I… I think it’s a bomb shelter.”

And it was. It really, actually was. I’ve never seen a bomb shelter outside of a museum or on TV. It looked like the shelters from a Twilight Zone episode or Fallout 3, complete with shelves filled with cans, metal lined walls, and the metal cylinders next to it were for ventilation.

I knew Vegas was all about the atomic bomb in the 1950′s, but why in God’s name would someone keep a functional bomb shelter in the middle of their lawn? You couldn’t cover it up, you couldn’t really get rid of it, it was just a permanent fixture of the backyard, next to the overpass and the hobo sanctuary.

And Steve and Kelly came back into town. We went to at the Venetian.

Steve loves baseball.

Steve loves baseball.

Stevie Wonder.

Stevie Wonder.

Full of local celebrities like Mayor Goodman and other music/film stars like Patrick Stewart, Michael Jackson, and Arnold Schwarzenegger, the place is full of wax sculptures that are all ready for photo ops. They even have a horror walk room, like those fun houses you experience around Halloween, or when you were a kid. Why, oh why did my friends declare me “group leader”? It’s not that I was so much scared, but you’re always the first one to get a paid ghoul right in your face, or the one who gets grabbed in fear. Thanks, guys. No really.

For me, the biggest highlight came from the gift shop, as I knocked over a tub of high bounce balls, which flew all over the store. I tried to make light of it as I scooped up a dozen high-flying, glitter filled spheres, telling the sales lady that I just wanted to make her day more exciting. She looked at me as if I were dead to her.

I apparently bring the sparkles and the shame.

A Plan Hatches.

With Spring fully underway, the quest to see even more Nevada oddities and landmarks continued onward.

This time, the roadtrips led to in Rhyolite, a once thriving town during the mining heyday of Nevada, now a ghost town and artist exhibition.

The original Ghost Rider.

The original Ghost Rider.

Like those old Atari 2600 games, isn't it?

Like those old Atari 2600 games, isn’t it?

A miner and his... penguin.

A miner and his… penguin.

Funky little shack.  FUNKY little shack!

Funky little shack. FUNKY little shack!

Lots of deserted buildings.

Lots of deserted buildings.

And train cars, because why not?

And train cars, because why not?

A few days later, we found ourselves out in Pahrump, Nevada, as we wanted to see “Coffinwood”. Coffinwood was a home well off the beaten path in where the couple that owned this place filled it with, well, coffins, and other haunted memorabilia.

Coffin gazebo.

Coffin gazebo.

Coffin House.

Coffin House.

Part of the graveyard.

Part of the graveyard.

We had befriended the couple during our initial visit, and actually visited them for several months to see all the changes they continually made to the house.

It wasn’t all fun and games, however. I was still working a juggernaut of a gauntlet with various gigs such as Miss USA at Planet Hollywood, where I got to see The Veronicas perform.

The Veronicas.

The Veronicas.

As soon as I wrapped with that gig at night, it was off to the Plaza on Fremont Street to attend the Xanadu convention (which had nothing to do with Charles Foster Kane or Olivia Newton John). It was there that The Revenant had its first major screening, and I got to hang out with David Anders and Chris Wylde.

Joey and Bart.

Joey and Bart.

Meanwhile, back at Planet Hollywood Resort and Casin.. ah, you know already.

Meanwhile, back at Planet Hollywood Resort and Casin.. ah, you know already.

Once Miss USA wrapped, I finally made the last payment with Dale Mathis on my clock, which strangely, I don’t ever think I’ve taken a picture of.

Purchase day.

Purchase day.

Dale, in addition to being exceptionally talented, is a great guy. The piece wasn’t ready yet, and he made a great effort to make sure that even though it wasn’t available, he wanted to make sure my experience with his art was memorable, so he included a small, but very appreciated gift.

It was a great weekend, but I was exhausted, and needed a break, so I made my way for a relaxing afternoon at , a botanical garden with all sorts of nature walks and museums inside.

Giant watering cans are found among the pathways.

Giant watering cans are found among the pathways.

Not to mention the need for ridiculous photo ops.  I don't think I was supposed to do this.

Not to mention the need for ridiculous photo ops. I don’t think I was supposed to do this.

It was then, during all of this assorted travel and new experiences, a new thought began to occur:

I was ready to settle down in Las Vegas.

After losing my childhood home, I needed “roots”. A place that I could call my own. But it was that fateful decision that set the precedent for the rest of the year, turning what should have been a relatively simple task into one of the longest Summers (and Fall, and Winter) I had ever known….

By The Book.

If there’s one thing to know about me, I LOVE roadside oddities. America is full of kitsch, and it’s my goal to travel the country to see as much of it as possible. So in once again consulting Weird Las Vegas & Nevada, I took a more serious approach to seeing what was around Las Vegas and beyond. Again, this will be more of a photo post, but there are a few notes that are worth mentioning in these stories.

The first stop was the . Remember all the cool old casinos and neon signs that you see in all the classic Vegas-themed movies and TV shows? Vegas tends to be a very disposable city, and is VERY wrecking ball happy in destroying everything more than five minutes old. This is where the classic signs go to die. They are, however, presented in a very cool and salvaged way:

The Boneyard.

The Boneyard.

The Silver Slipper.

The Silver Slipper.

Amazing old store signs.

Amazing old store signs.

Neon duck.

Neon duck.

Once you get outside the city limits of Las Vegas, you can find brothels. Actual, real places where you can get your professional hump on:

Truck parking AND coffee?  Sold!

Truck parking AND coffee? Sold!

Angel's Ladies has a crashed plane out front with an interesting backstory.

Angel’s Ladies has a crashed plane out front with an interesting backstory.

Fun Fact: You can actual go to the brothels just to get a drink and take a tour of the place. While I haven’t done this, it’s on my bucket list. The drink and tour, that is.

For fun (just before Beatty), you can visit a massively huge fireworks place. Another thing not allowed in the city:

ACME Wile E. Coyote grade.

ACME Wile E. Coyote grade.

And then there’s Tonopah, with the Clown Motel:

Clowning is serious business.

Clowning is serious business.

But the rates are decent.

But the rates are decent.

If you have a phobia of clowns, this place is not going to change your mind:

A small sampling of clownage.

A small sampling of clownage.

And if that’s not enough, it’s located directly next door to an early 1900′s graveyard.

The old miners and residents.

The old miners and residents.

But if it was a question of me staying here, oh yes, I would. The staff was actually very accommodating when I asked for a tour, and the rates are cheap, and it’s close to the rest of town.

This part of Nevada is like some sort of time warp anyway. Everything looks like it comes out of the late 1800′s-early 1900′s, such as Goldfield, Nevada:

The old fire house.

The old fire house.

Now back n the closer outskirts of Vegas, there are still all sorts of things that tourists miss, such as at the Silverton Casino.

The bar front.

The bar front.

The bar.

The bar.

Now, this place can’t have a namesake like this without having actual mermaids, can it? What’s that? No such thing? Then check this out:

Under the sea....

Under the sea….

More trips led to Route 66:

Traveling with the hounds.

Traveling with the hounds.

And Red Rock for hiking:

A boy and his dog.

A boy and his dog.

As for “normal” life, we celebrated Kerry’s birthday over at The Revenant with a barbeque….

No pinata this time, but later....

No pinata this time, but later….

This is also the month that I learned that Vegas has random sandstorms. And those suck.

Weird Las Vegas.

In still getting used to Las Vegas, I decided to utilize outside help. To this effect, I began to consult Weird Las Vegas and Nevada, a guide to all things unusual in the Silver State. I was only a casual reader at this point, but I decided that visiting the Simpsons house was right up my alley.

Blame the wind, not Flock of Seagulls, for the hair.

Blame the wind, not Flock of Seagulls, for the hair.

Yes, this is a real thing. Back in the Simpsons heyday, Fox did this whole contest where someone could win an actual custom-built house like from the TV show. And while the referenced article tries to act like the house no longer exists, it’s undeniable. Otherwise, how would you be able to explain this in the driveway:

D'oh!

D’oh!

This is why I love Vegas: The litany of kooky stuff that can be found around every corner.

Rock 'Em, Sock 'Em.

Rock ‘Em, Sock ‘Em.

During a visit to one of the off-Strip art museums, the Missus and I got approached by some glassy-eyed kid from the “Citizens Commission on Human Rights”, which is another fancy word for Scientology. Not knowing this at the time, he asked if we wanted to watch a short film. The film in question was called Psychiatry: An Industry of Death. Walking in, we were immediately asked to give our personal information. I called myself “Frank Thornton”, the actor who played Captain Peacock on Are You Being Served? and gave a made-up e-mail address. Watching the film, the Missus muttered to me: “This is a propaganda piece”. I whispered back: “Watch, they’ll be mentioning the Holocaust next”, and sure enough, that was the immediate next scene, detailing in full all of these outrageous claims that psychiatrists helped Hitler rise to power and are responsible for killing millions. The next segment said that psychiatrists are responsible for all the racism that’s ever existed and continues to exist. Meanwhile, we’re getting subjected to images of tortured babies, children, adults and animals. “I’m done with my brainwashing for today”, I said, and started to leave. As we did, they wanted us to fill out a survey, giving even more personal info. and requests for money donations. “I have to go to the bathroom”, the Missus lied. “We’ll be right back, though”, I added. We left quickly.

But that wasn’t the only adventure in store for me. Shannon, Amy and I later went to see Coldplay at the MGM Grand.

I've been on that stage more times than they have.

I’ve been on that stage more than they have.

The seats weren’t the best, but it was a great show. With plenty of energy and time left, we spent the rest of the night dancing at Studio 54.

Steve Rubell not included.

Steve Rubell not included.

This is what kills me about Vegas: They have awesome things like this that eventually get waylaid to the “It was fun while it lasted” pile for the next “big” thing. Some of these things are pretty awesome as is. Where else in town are you going to find two guys dressed as Spider-Man and Mr. Incredible dancing around, or a group of Scotsmen wearing kilts, or some drunken girl going commando while sadly dry humping a guy in the corner, or girls on trapeze swinging over the dance floor and throwing confetti? This stuff is complimentary free entertainment.

Ryan Phillippe and Salma Hayek also not included.

Ryan Phillippe and Salma Hayek also not included.

Somehow, Vegas was starting to make more sense to me.