Christmas in Agave Wonderland
          or, ...Christmas in Vegas

   One of my favorite Clash lyrics:,
"An' you know what they said?   Well, some of it was true!"

 Well, it was a real fun weekend, ... I think.
 Nothing really bad happened, so it's not funny in a CAL-met-the-Devil-in-Georgia kind of way,
 but we had a good time. So to make it more entertaining for you, I've added some hyperbole
 to make a boring BartCop-in-Vegas trip report less so, to create the illusion of a better read.
 Long-time readers know I do this a lot...
 (cough)

 Details I couldn't give earlier can now be revealed.
 For instance, I didn't take The Baby on this trip.
 It's only the second time we've traveled unarmed.

 We flew direct from K-Drag to Las Vegas.

 ha ha

 That's sounds so unreal.
 A cheap flight from the Buckle of the Bible Belt to Sin City - nonstop.
 The Oklahoma Baptists ain't got no time for no damn stops!

 The bad news?
 The flight leaves at 6:50 AM.
 Those Baptists don't waste time.

 Thanks to Weak & Stupid's yet-to-be-revealed alliance with Bin Laden,
 we had to get to K-Drag International two hours ahead of scheduled liftoff.
 That puts us at K-Drag International at 5 AM,
 which means the alarm had to go off prior to 4 AM...

 Saturday

 Nnnnnnnnnnhhhhhhhhh....

 Koresh, I haven't gotten up at 4 am since I was an altar boy.
 We slugged our way to the airport.

 I decided the biggest problem with airline travel today is the idiot public.
 Since everything involves a long line, you'd think people would pay attention,
 but nooooooooooooooooooooooo.

 I wish I had a dime *  for every time the counter people had to yell,
 "Next? ...Next?  ...Sir?  ...Next?  ...Oh, Sir?  ... Next?"

 The Southwest Airlines people know how stupid the public is, so they held up signs.
 that read "NEXT" so the stupid and deaf people could pay attention.

 You could get to the airport just 30 minutes before your flight and be just fine
 if the numbnutted public would just pay attention when they're next up.

 Probability:
 The Southwest Airlines people are the best.
 They are so friendly and so efficient.
 Southwest Airlines is never late and they never crash.
 What else could you ask for in an airline - cheap fares?
 They have those, too!

 <more on this later>

 It was a three hour flight.
 For a person with a really short attention span, that's two weeks.
 What the hell was I gonna do for the next two weeks, strapped into a cheap, cramped airline seat?
 I cruised the snack bar/gift shop thingy in K-Drag.
 Holy Koresh, I found a C.S.I. paperback novel.

 This is perfect!

 I generally can't read normal paperback mystery novels, because by the time I get to page 30,
 I'm reading, "Einess told Offenbach that Eurick would never get the contract
 because Jennifer would vote against him for what he did to Wanda's husband Jack."

 ...and I'm like, "Who are these people?"

 I need a cheat-sheet to keep up.

 Novel writers don't know how to keep my attention.
 Novel writers also like to spend four pages on the damn weather.

 Hey - it was hot, it was nice, it was cold, or rainy,
 but get on with the damn book.

 Sorry, that ADD is an ugly thing, but the C.S.I. novel was perfect for me.
 I can picture the cast in my head, I know who's banging who,
 I know who's a screw-up and who's for real, I have this whole primer/template set down so
 I can enjoy the story without having to ask my other personalities to keep track of the suspects.
 It was a great book, too.

 One morning, the C.S.I. crew gets two calls.
 Dead man in the hall of the Beachcomer Hotel-Casino, (they use fake names to protect the guilty)
 and a 15-year buried skeleton was unearthed at a construction site just south of Mandalay Bay
 (See how cool this was to read on the plane to Vegas?
  We stayed very near the crime scene)

 By Chapter 3, we know both men were murdered with the same gun - ...but 15 years apart?
 It would take a team as sharp as Grissom and Co. to break this case.

 Next thing I knew, Mrs. BartCop was poking me in the ribs.
 "Are you getting off this plane with me?"
 

  Sidebar:
 By some unknown quirk of time & space,
 we left Oklahoma at 7 AM and landed in Las Vagas at 8.

 This is a miracle!

 We traveled 1400 miles in 62 minutes
 Planes can't go that fast - can they?
 

 We land, then we need a ride to The Rio.
 I tried to rent a car, but the guy just laughed at me.
 "There are no rental cars in Las Vegas, not since Sept 11th, ...stupid!"

 I took it as a sign from God.
 If I couldn't get behind the wheel this weekend, He must want me to party!

 We had a room reserved at The Venetian, ...but not till Sunday.
 We had to stay somewhere less expensive, on our own dime, Saturday.
 We've had good luck at The Rio, so we grabbed a shuttle and headed there.
 We stumbled in, reeling from the early wake up call, and what do you know?

 We asked for a room with a bad-ass view, and the Rio lady said, "OK."
 They offered a mas fina room for $69 dollars.
 They had a room ready for us and it wasn't even 9 AM yet.
 She put us on the damn 34th floor for $69.

 We just-in-fun made our first priority the Breakfast at Bellagio.
 We'd heard in a recent Vegas newletter that they had a monster buffet,
 so we mentally prepared ourselves for a bachunalian breakfast feast and headed that way.

 We walked in the lobby of The Bellagio and were slammed by the aroma of fresh-cut flowers.
 You can't fake that.
 The lobby is chock-full of fresh flowers, and it hits you like a wave.

 Me?
 I don't care.
 But Mrs. BartCop grabbed my arm and made me stop.
 She looked up at the ceiling with it's 5,000 just-cut fresh flowers and took a deep breath.
 "This doesn't smell like Oklahoma," she said.

 Here's where everything started to break down.
 Walking thru The Bellagio (Oceans 11 was filmed here) looking for the breakfast buffet, I spotted an island bar.

 Since my tequila obsession manifested itself in summer 1999, I have developed a sixth sense about tequila bottles.
 I can pretty much look at a bar from 40 feet and read the menu of tequila choices (or lack thereof)
 because fine tequila comes in the most non-traditionally shaped bottles.

 I spotted the extra-long gooseneck bottle of Corazon Tequila.

You can see this bottle from 60 feet.

It's 100% Blue Agave, so it must be considered a contender.
It sprang up during the agave shortage, which seems ...unusual.

So I tell bartender Cubby at the Bellagio to pour me a shot of Corazon.
Then, catching my faux pas, I realized I couldn't rank it without a reference,
so I asked for a shot of Chinaco Anejo ...for comparison purposes only.

Well, Cubby poured super-sized shots of Corazon Anejo and Chinaco Anejo.
Coulda been 1.5 ounces to 2 ounces per shot.

Lorena nor I had ever seen shotglasses of this shape:
Long and flutey with a bulbous ground floor.
It looked penilistic to me, but by Koresh, if it held more tequila, it had to be a good thing.

I took a sip of the Corazon and filed it's good & bad qualities in my head.
I took a sip of the Chinaco and touched the face of God.
Ain't nothing like a shot of Chinaco before 9 in the morning.

Then, Cubby starts asking me which tequilas I've tried.

  Discovery:
Tequila bartenders WANT to talk tequila.
When I show up at a tequila, they act like they've been waiting for me.
They WANT to talk tequila to a fellow conne, ...connes, ...coniss,...someone who really enjoys fine tequila...

Have you tried this one?
Have you tried that one?

 Hint:
If you agree with the bartender's choices, he'll keep pouring free shots.
When he says "Patron is the greatest," I say "Yes, Patron & Chinaco are the top two."
He will keep pouring.

It became a contest between what he had and what I haven't tried.

Cubby whips out a bottle of Jose Cuervo la Familia Reserva.
He poured me a shot - freebie - and told me to try it. I did, and I'll be damned, it was pretty good.
I hate to say something nice about anything Cuervo, but if it tastes good - it tastes good.

So I'm sipping on my three super-sized shotglasses and the time's ticking away,
and we had a breakfast buffet to get to, so I slammed the shots down and we were off.

We found the magnificent Bellagio Breakfast Buffet, and saw their magnificent price.
It was no ordinary buffet, it was the Champagne Brunch Buffet, and it was $22 each.

Koresh!
$44 for breakfast?
We hadn't planned on this expense, so it called for bank financing (MasterCard)

It was everything you could ask for in a breakfast.
They had your traditional everything, including these cool hockey puck potatoe* cakes.
Yum!

And they had some kind of breakfast prime rib that was to die for.
But it was pretty rare, ...it bled all over the rest of the plate.
It looked like a C.S.I. crime scene.

They also had the most aggressive champagne delivery waitresses I'd ever seen.
If you took a gulp out of your flute, they'd run over and place another glass down.
They must get paid by the tray, because they were ferocious with their promptness.

Trouble was, it's still only 10 am and I've got 6 shots of tequila in me and I'm not as young
as I used to be. After 6-8 glasses of Bellagio champagne, I started to feel lightheaded.

We've only been in Vegas for three hours and I already was run down.
We got back to the Rio about noon and took a nap.
We had a tequila tasting to rest up for...


We decided to try the Pink Taco at the Hard Rock Cafe Casino

Click  Here  to read the entire Pink Taco story.


After our fun at the Pink Taco, we headed for the brand new Aladdin Casino.
This is really an impressive place.

Las Vegas is full of spectacular places, and the new attractions must be better-than,
because when you spend a billion dollars on a place, you can't afford to be laughed at.

When you walk in, the ceiling looks 60-80 feet high.

 We were there to check out the thunderstorms that happen every 30 minutes.
 To find them, we had to go thru the casino and to the shops - surprise!
 They want you to spend money so they can get their billion dollars back.


 Notice the "Ceasars" ceiling, makes it seem you're outside.
 That's important when the thunderstorm starts.

 By the way, The Aladdin is an Arab/Eqyptian-themed resort hotel and casino,
 so they had more American flags waving than any casino in the city.

 We located the section where the storms would be.
 Sure enough, the skies got darker, and we heard the first rumblings of distant thunder.
 When the storm finally started, I was disappointed - I was expecting more.
 But that's because I have ADD and no patience!

 Of course the storm's not going to start big, dumbass.
 A storm starts small, then builds, like this one did.

 When the rain started, it even became windy!
 Mrs. BartCop asked me how I thought they made it windy and I took a wild guess - "Fans?"
 That smart-ass remark got me a fingernail in the arm - damn, that hurt.

 The wind blew some rain on us, so we had to back up.
 The thunder grew louder and louder, and the lightning flashes were extra bright.
 It was kinda chilly in Las Vegas that day, so we didn't get the full effect.
 But when it's summertime and 114 degrees in the shade, I'll bet that dark thunderstorm is hell!
 We wandered around some more, then headed back to The Rio.

 Of course, it wouldn't be Vegas without a meal at Rio's Bamboleo.
 Mexican food at it's finest but by this time, I was so tequila'd out,
 I had (don't tell) a house margarita with my enchiladas.
 Even it was pretty good.

 Eventually, night fell and we were back in our room.

 Check out that view from the Rio - for $69?
     600 sq ft with one wall made of glass?
   Is there a better hotel deal in America?

    Here's another thing I thought was cool.

 On the right is Mandalay Bay, in the center is The Luxor.
 If you look close, ...you see the light on top of the pyramid?
 It shoots a way-powerful beam straight up into the sky.
 When it's cloudy, like it was December 22, it does this:


         Not sure how many miles up in the air this was,
       but that beam from the Luxor shines on God's ceiling.

 Once we were sure we were in for the night, we watched
 The Others starring Nicole Kidman on the Rio's satellite system.

 I like Nicole Kidman, and I love scary/sci-fi stories, but this movie was stupid, stupid, stupid.
 It's got one of those Sixth Sense nutty endings, which would've been cool if it had made any
 damn sense in the first 90 minutes, but this movie was goofier than a runover dog.


Swear to Koresh

I don't know if things in Vegas changed since we were there in 1999 or if I'm more stupid than
originally thought, (distinct possibility) and just missed this all these years, but there are GIANT
billboards all over The Strip where cute-as-Playmate hookers advertise that they will come to the
privacy of your room and get "completely naked" for private lap dances.
Call me an opportunist, but I see the suggestion of sex for sale in that ad.

Previously on these pages I have reported that the rumor was the Vegas PD has a deal
with the hookers that if they ONLY accept phone business and keep things relatively discrete,
the cops would have no serious interest in busting them.

Now we have 25-foot billboards with pictures of "Jenny & Barbi"
who will give you totally-nude lap dances in the privacy of your room.
I guess the old Catholic ingrams are messing with my logical mind again,
but how do they get away with being that blatant?

And if there's nothing wrong with consensual sex for money,
why can't we be adult enough to stand up and say, "This should not be a crime."

Oh, I forgot - the Churches can't make as much money if sex is allowed.

Vegas has that whole attitude - "Let's admit you want it, so here it is!"


 Saturday we were movin' on up

 We checked into The Venetian at noon.
 They said our suite wouldn't be ready till about 3, so our timing was perfect.
 We were to meet Shannon at the Taqueria Cononita at 12:30.

 We had a seat at the bar and waited for him/her.
 It turns out Shannon was a he, but that's OK.
 We thanked him for the weekend in Agave Wonderland and the airfare, and the suite.

 I brought him up to speed on the previous day's semi-finals, so we launched into the finals where
 we each ordered a full shot of Casa Noble extra aged and a Herradura Selecion Suprema.
 By Koresh, we were drinking big league tequila at Taqueria Cononita.
 Y'know, I could get used to living like this...

 Shannon turned out to be really normal.
 I hate meeting people, because what do you do if they're weird?

 Especially a situation like this, where I'm committed to an afternoon with our generous host,
 but we got along great and he loves tequila like I do. He never said, but I think he got into
 tequila more recently than I did.   He may have thought of me as his tequila sensei.

 He was mysterious, too, which was OK. He's from California, but never mentioned his hotel.
 We asssumed the Venetian, since that's where he put us, but I got to thinking...

 A few hundred issues back I said,
"The next time somebody wants to talk business with me, we'll do it at the Venetian,"
 which made me wonder if this was going to be some pivotal moment in  bartcop.com  history.
 But no, this was just three people sipping the best tequila they could find.

 From 12:30 to almost 3, I had my nose in a tequila snifter.
 At the Taqueria Cononita, when you order tequila, (I hope Mary from the Hard Rock doesn't read this)
 they serve it in a brandy snifter glass, which really is the best way to go.

 Better yet, the bartender was a tequila bartender. It was cool watching him pour the shots.
 Again, generous pours, like at the Bellagio. They were certainly more than ounces.
 After he poured each shot in the snifter, he tilted and rolled the glass to coat the sides with the agave
 so there would be more agave vapor to enjoy. My nose was more surrounded then Al Qaeda.

 In the end, Shannon liked the Herradura Selecion Suprema more, I liked the Casa Noble Extra Aged.
 It wasn't really a fair test without The Miracle of Canaan there, but we still had fun.
 Shannon turned out to be one of my favorite people :)
 We thanked our host again and went to claim our suite at the fabulous Venetian.

 They said they needed 30 more minutes before the room would be ready, so we sat in the
 Venetian's Sports Book area and watched Green Bay kick Cleveland's ass in the snow.
 (That's football - Green Bay in the snow...)

 It was cool watching these gamblers when something happened.
 Cleveland was about to push in for a TD, so these grown men were JUMPING outta their seats and dancing
 and high-fiving each other - while the other half sank in their chairs and groaned. A few minutes later, Green Bay
 intercepted the ball in the end zone and the groaners screamed and shouted while the dancers quietly slid back
 into their chairs.  At the most expensive casino in America, no telling how much they had on the game.

 Three O'Clock came and our room was ready

 Somehow, the whole luxury of the Venetian rooms was lost on me.
 To me, a good hotel room has a good lock on the door, a good TV and a good air conditioner.
 A view is a bonus, a hot tub is a bonus, but the Venetian had neither.

 Oh sure, the room was big, but it was just two of us.
 They had two TVs, which is nice if there's two games on, I guess.
 They had a fax machine and three phones with two lines each, but again, it was just us.
 The bathroom was almost as big as BartCop Manor, which she really liked,
 but what's the practical purpose of a giant bathroom?
 We had two thermostats, but even so, the room never got Walt Disney-cold.

 The view?
 Well, we could see the side of the Venetian...

 We had a GREAT view of Treasure Island, which is probably the least attractive hotel on the entire Strip,
 and who'd believe it, we had a perfect, square-on view of our old favorite - the Tam O' Shanter.

 To be honest, the view at the Rio was spectacular for $69,
 and this monster suite at the Venetian was much more expensive.
 I just don't get it, but my Mama told me never complain about a gift.

 So we decided to spend the rest of the evening in our room.


When Lorena was out of the room, I clicked on the 24-hour porn package.
They promised anytime until noon tomoro I could check in on their XXX package
so I went ahead & bought it (thank you, Shannon) and what did I see?

Men in their early fifties having crude and tacky sex with women in their forties!

Hello?
Is this my grandpa's porno channel?
One woman took her teeth out to give the guy oral sex!
I'm all for older people having sex, but not on my TV.

As porno goes, I'm no Fox Mulder.
I mean, I know who Jenna Jameson is, and Racquel Darian and Sylvia sombody,
and I know Ron Jeremy is a hoot, but if a porn star hasn't been on Stern, I don't know 'em.
But since I have internet access, I know there are some spectacular-looking women doing porn,
just not on the channel that the fabulous Venetian has a contract with.
 

Plus, and I'll be careful here...
Why can't somebody produce a semi-porno film with some basic production values and maybe a script,
where the actors are...say...dating and move quickly from one level to the next?
No, these people go from "Nice to meet you," to felony sodomy in 15 seconds.

This was tacky, whisky-drinking, poker-playing-with-the-sailors porn.
This must be why most women hate porn.

Hell, if they put young and attractive slender women in Dynasty-style evening gowns
and have the setting be some south of France villa, and maybe hire women in their 20's -please,
they might get a lot more customers that way rather than the crude, stick-it-in and say something gross crap.

Put another way, why isn't there any semi-intelligent "porn"?

So, you're a porn-lover, too?
That's something only a terrorist would like.
I don't even think we need a trial for you, Funnyboy
And where's this Venetian place?
I guess I need to clean up Las Vegas.


The next morning we woke up late, but I still had time for a long hot bath.
They may not have a hot tub in those terribly-expensive suites, but the tub was BIG.

I poured myself a shot of Chinaco, and rolled a spliff and got the Las Vegas Sun
and a bag of M&Ms and relaxed and read the paper like a man on holiday should.

We checked out at 11 and left our luggage there.
We went walking, and saints be praised, this time I remembered my fancy running shoes!
This meant my knees would allow me to walk the following week.
Thank you, God, for the IQ of 64.

We walked to the Mirage.
Mrs. BartCop enjoys seeing the white tigers that Siegfried & Roy trained.
(They were very polite)

From there, we thought about going to the MGM to check out the tequila at The Coyote Cafe,
but then I remembered they close on Monday, the pansy-ass losers.
So, we took a cab to the Disney-looking castle place - what's their name?
The Excalibur, that's right.

The Excaliber isn't the place it once was, but they have another Tram.
Their Tram takes you thru (not to) the Luxor, and then to Mandalay Bay.
Mandalay Bay has The Shark Reef, and she wanted to see the sharks.
(Notice how we're doing what she wants to do? You married men understand...)

Also at Mandalay is The Border Grill, where they sell half-shots of fine tequila.
We took the Tram and eventually arrived at Mandalay Bay.
We walked and walked until we saw a sign that said "Border Grill" and  "Shark Reef ===>"
So we walked and walked that way for a few blocks.
Then we walked a few more blocks, all the time seeing the sign "Border Grill" and  "Shark Reef ===>"

Eventually, we found the Border Grill - closed.
The sign on the door said "Open every day at 11," but not today.
The town is jam-packed with people and the restaurants are closed?

The Shark Reef was open, but the line was a mile long.
We turned around to walk back to the Tram and I caught a glimpse of the Mandalay main building.
Swear to Koresh, we were at least five football fields away.

By now it was about 2, and the flight was at 6, so we started back to the Venetian to get our bags.
We hadn't eaten yet, and we'd never tried the food at Taqueria Cononita so we headed there.

We got a great table right on the Venice Canal.
None of the food was "normal," so we started with a nutty appetizer called,
Queso Fundido con Rojas w/ Poblano peppers served in hot, moist mini-flour tortillas.
I also got a shot of Cuervo de Familia Reserva which blew chunks - big chunks.
I asked Cubby to show me which bottle it came from, and he did - it was the right bottle
so now I can go back to saying all Cuervo products suck really bad.

At meantime, I got the soft steak tacos with green cilantro rice (was it St Patty's Day?) and black beans
with a stripe of white something running thru it. She got a chipotle-barbecue beef tamale/flauta thingy
wrapped in, swear to Koresh, banana leafs. (Do they grow bananas in Mexico or Venice?)

All good things must come to an end, and we were worried about the airport again because
Shoe-bomber Richard Reid caused a stir after we arrived. We figured we'd have to de-shoe at the airport.
Turns out they didn't check our shoes (is that good or bad?) and we sailed right thru customs but we were
unsettled when they told us the number of the gate our flight would be leaving from.


                  Yeah, sure, go ahead and laugh.
       It wasn't too damn funny just before the flight.

 Was God sending me a sign?
 Would this be ...the last flight?

 Worse yet, since we got there early, we got great boarding passes.


      Oh, Lord, how lucky can one man be?

 I decided to not worry - I just read my C.S.I. book.
 At least I tried to read it over the shrieking of those damn kids everywhere.

   Sidebar:
 People, don't take your kids to Vegas.
 No matter what you've heard, Vegas is NOT for children.
 The damn cabs in Vegas have ads with hooker's phone numbers on them.
 They have one number for hookers on the top of the cab, like a pizza delivery sign,
 and another number for different hookers on the trunk of the cab.
 How you gonna explain to your little curtain crawlers what a nude, private lap dance is?

 I can't believe how many strollers were on our flight.
 Babies, toddlers, screamers, runners, every damn kind of kid in the world was there.

 There should be a law!

 Hey, you young couples out there - if you don't know anyone who will watch your kids,
 and if the local kennel won't board them while you're out of town, that's God's way of saying
 "No Vegas for you this year."

 If your parents or her parents won't take the kids while you're in Vegas,
 there's probably some severe psychological demons haunting them,
 so board them at a rubber hospital if you must but don't take 'em to Vegas.

 I heard a rumor - and maybe someone can verify - that the Bellagio is "NO KIDS!"
 Is that true?
 Is that why they were the only hotel casino that was completely sold out?

 Constantly, everywhere you look are weenie Gen-Xers and their damn crumb-catchers in strollers.
 If you've ever been in a crowded casino, you know strollers are as welcome as dog poop.
 Strollers in the buffet lines, strollers in the elevators, strollers in the tequila bars?
 Stop it!

 No kids in vegas, c'mon, let's get a chant going.

 No kids in Vegas, No kids in Vegas.
 No kids in Vegas, No kids in Vegas.
 No kids in Vegas, No kids in Vegas.
 No kids in Vegas, No kids in Vegas.

 Now, just the hot-looking women...

 No kids in Vegas, No kids in Vegas.
 No kids in Vegas, No kids in Vegas.
 No kids in Vegas, No kids in Vegas.
 No kids in Vegas, No kids in Vegas.

 Now, just the men who don't use Viagra...

 No kids in Vegas, No kids in Vegas.
 No kids in Vegas, No kids in Vegas.
 No kids in Vegas, No kids in Vegas.
 No kids in Vegas, No kids in Vegas.

 Now everyone but the weird people...

 No kids in Vegas, No kids in Vegas.
 No kids in Vegas, No kids in Vegas.
 No kids in Vegas, No kids in Vegas.
 No kids in Vegas, No kids in Vegas.

 Thank you, ...thank you very much.

 Sorry, but that can't be said too often.

 So even with our early boarding pass, we sat in the center of the plane
 because those damn kids boarded first and goobered up the front seats.

 No kids in Vegas, No kids in Vegas.

 It was after 6 when we took off, so it was dark and we flew out right over the Strip.
 Besides Brooke Burke, is anything better looking than Las Vegas at night?
 





 

 It's an awesome sight you should see, someday.

 The flight took almost five hours going home.
 How can it take one hour out and five hours back?
 Maybe it's the way the Earth turns?

 Or maybe the Bush Family Evil Empire is in for a cut?

 The Southwest Airlines steward was a comedian.
 The first thing he said on the PA before we took off was,
 "This is a non-smoking, non-toking, non-whining flight, so if you have
   a problem get off the plane so the rest of us can enjoy the ride."

 That's the kind of stuff I do NOT want to hear for the entire flight, but it was a nice ice-breaker.
 Then the guys rears back for gag number two:  "We're away from our family and friends
 so you can be with your family and friends ...and we're very bitter about that, so be nice."

 For a junior comedian, his material was pretty good.

 "In the unlikely event that we lose cabin pressure, oxygen masks will fall.
   Please cover the mouth and nose of your favorite child first, ...then work your way down."

 I've seen comics on Letterman who weren't this good. When he finally put the mic away,
 a female voice name on the PA to apologize, saying that he'd already gotten into the egg nog.

 Funny, when we finally landed, it seemed more like three hours than five, but clocks don't lie.


 So, this was the not-too exciting Christmas in Vegas 2001 report.
 Sorry it wasn't more action-filled, but we tend to avoid the kind of trouble that makes a great story.

 If we had invited this ne'er do well along, the small-time thug who taught me html (that's why it's so third-grade)


 we'd have all kinds of great stories about the guy who tried to kick his ass on the plane
 and the hotel that threw him out for shoplifting or the cop who had to draw his weapon on him
 and how it took 24 hours to get him out on bail - that kind of stuff.

 Maybe next time we'll go as a gang - wanna go?
 If a bunch of us go, surely somebody will win a jackpot, or get arrested or shot.

 Looking forward to it.
 


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