Las Vegas. Sin city. DisneyWorld for adults. Situated amongst top secret military testing facilities and a stone's throw away from Art Bell's broadcast fortress in Pahrump, the only place more unreal that this odd desert town is Hollywood. Very early tomorrow morning, I leave for Vegas. I'm seeing off a college buddy who, after a nine month interview process, finally landed a job with Shell Oil. He'll be working in the Netherlands and making pretty fair scratch. Our party will be stationed at the Golden Nugget, but I'm sure there will be expediations to other casinos. If luck be a lady, I won't need to sell my ass on the strip to get back to Boston.
Viva Las Vegas!
and be sure to catch the completely gaudy fountain show at the Bellagio set to operatic music. Nothing like the absurdity of watching an excess of water in a desert set to Pavrotti to get you in Vegas state of mind. And get drunk one night and go check out the Neon Museum which has rescued a number of vintage signs. If you decide to get hitched while you are there you simply must get one of the rental Elvii as Jarkko refused to do the drive-thru with Tom Jones in the back seat singing.
