VIVA

So, we recently ventured into the desert in search of spiritual enlightenment. We found it. It's not as cool as you would think, so we sold it and took the money we made with us to LAS VEGAS.

Why is it impossible to write the name of that city in lowercase letters? Oh yeah, I remember why, because it's F'in awesome!

I flew into Vegas on Saturday afternoon and met my good friend Peter Rehme, of Rehme Custom Iron Work in Austin, Texas, (yes that Peter Rehme) in the lobby of The Mirage Hotel & Casino. I would now show you a picture of this delightful reunion, but such a picture does not exist. I left my camera at home for this trip, because I had intended to do things which could cause harm to one's political career should they be documented on film.

Let me start by saying that the Mirage is a top notch casino in my book. While it may not have the blown glass ceiling and flower garden of The Bellagio, it also does not have the snooty pretension. It is a nice, comfortable, upscale place and I would not hesitate to stay there again.

Upon arrival, Mr. Rehme and I headed to the Sports Book where we watched some college football and ate some food and talked of the events of the night to come. We could stay at the hotel and gamble, or he had a friend who could get us on "The List" at a couple of different night spots.

I'm always curious about this List. People love to tell you that they're on it, but those people immediately strike you as losers for saying something so incredibly lame that you don't want to go anywhere with them. But if they were losers, how did they get on The List? I had to know.

So we went out. But first, we gambled a little.

Ah, gambling. So great. Is it bad when you love gambling so much that you go into it expecting to lose money, but you do it anyway?

Let me answer that question for you...No, it's not bad. It's wonderful. Because when you plan on losing, and despite your best drunken efforts to stop it, you win, you have happened upon the rare "win-win" scenario, and you are what we like to call, "A Double Winner." I won-won. It was super. I asked the dealer how long he would be there that evening, and he said, "Till 4 AM."

I told him we would definitely see him when we got back from the clubs. We missed him by almost three hours.

The first place we went was a place called the V Bar, and it was in The Venetian. It was nice, dark, and comfortable, and just loud enough to make you have to lean into whomever you're talking to so you will be heard. And that's not so great if you're talking to a dude from Texas, but it has it's advantages in mixed company. The rest of our time there is classified, but I will say that so far, being on the List could only be considered a good thing. After a while, and by a while I mean 3 to 4 shots of Patron, we decided to check out other venues.

We headed from The V Bar out via Town Car (the cab line was too long and Pete was feeling very generous, I'm sorry, did I say generous, I meant hammered) and we stopped at The Hard Rock Hotel & Casino. While we were in fact on The List to get into it's dance club Body English, The List only got you past The Line, you still had to pay the cover charge, which was $10 for girls, and an ingenious $30 for guys.

Thinking I could have more fun with my $30 out in the casino, I told Peter to have a good time and left him at the door of the club. Thanks but no thanks. No one needs to go into a club that badly. It seems that Body English wanted me a little more than I wanted it though, because while I was busy winning an even $100 at the Craps table (actually $110 minus a tip for the dealers-very important to do) I got a phone call from Peter telling me that he knew someone inside who would get me in for free and to meet her at the door. I did meet her. And she had the same name as one of my sisters, though which one I'll never tell.

It was Julie.

The inside of Body English looks exactly like you're picturing it. Actually, move the DJ booth a little to the left...there! Perfect. It was super dark, super loud, and super full of people dancing, or rather women dancing and men watching women dance while nodding their heads slightly. In short, uninspiring, and definitely NOT worth the cover charge I didn't pay. I stayed a little longer to observe from a purely scientific perspective, and then went back out to gamble some more.

Ah, gambling.

I have to say that Craps has entirely eclipsed my love for all other forms of gambling combined. It seemed sometimes like I was just getting paid to stand there and drink alcohol with strangers. Wait! That's what I was doing. Only in (certain portions of) America!

The night turned into morning way quicker than you would think, and I went up to get some sleep before a long day of watching, and naturally betting on, professional football. I managed almost three whole hours of sleep, thanks in some part to my hangover, but in most part to the fact that Peter Rehme is a World Class Snoring Champion. Seriously. He has a belt and everything. Competitive snoring is just like boxing, but not nearly as boring to watch.

So I got up to watch the football at 10 am, and about 8 hours later, I left the sportsbook to go upstairs to the room to catch a nap before dinner and more gambling. Obviously, the nap never happened. I did take a valium though, which is almost as good as sleep.

Just to be original, we ate at the buffet, and I dined on six different species of animal that evening. Seven if you count Chocolate Mousse, Hey-oh!

After dinner was more gambling, and I think you see where I'm going with this...

Bottom line is that I left the next morning with more money than I had when I came to VEGAS, and more importantly, I had learned something about myself that I never realized before...

But the sad thing is I learned it in VEGAS, and apparently I'd be breaking some sort of law if I discuss it, so you'll just have to go and find out for yourself what I learned. About myself.

We'd better go together, it'll be way easier for you that way.