Haven’t you native NY’ers ever wanted to go to Europe? Paris is only a block away.
I requested a quiet room, and was given one… except when the Big Apple roller coaster went by every two minutes with people screaming their brains out.
Meanwhile, Celine Dion is back in residency at Caesar’s. She hits that high note in “All By Myself” and windows shatter nightly in the Octavius tower.
The Linq is the old Imperial Palace (and the former Quad Resort). Gone are the “enterdealers” or “dealertrainers” or whatever the hell they were called. Stevie Wonder is no longer dealing blackjack. But the auto collection remains. I wonder if the big attraction is still Hitler’s towncar. If you can’t see the fountains at the Bellagio or the erupting volcano at the Mirage at least you can catch der Fuhrer’s ride.
At one time Sinatra was a headliner. Now it’s the ventriloquist from AMERICA’S GOT TALENT.
Of course the Trump hotel has the word TRUMP prominently emblazoned everywhere. In a gambling town why advertise LOSER?
New to Vegas to help class up the joint: A replica of the famous Manneken Pis bronze sculpture of a little boy urinating. It’s now proudly peeing in front of the D Hotel downtown. After midnight you can see real people doing it.
The Aria Hotel offers an hour-long “indoor hike” through its casino, facilities, and shops. Las Vegas -- your healthy getaway.
Treasure Island has discontinued its live mermaid show. The ship is gone, replaced by a CVS. Is there no Historical Society in Las Vegas?
My idea for a theme hotel: Woodstock. Buy an empty field, charge people $200 a night to sleep on the ground in the dirt, erect a stage, and hire Ten Years After and Sha-Na-Na to play twelve-hour sets.
Sheri’s Ranch in nearby Pahrump, Nevada stages concerts along with its brothel activity. So when wives check credit card bills husbands can say they were there for a show. Wives might still be wary. “You spent $1,000 to see Paul Revere and the Raiders?”
If you go to the “Divas,” female impersonator show at the Linq you get a coupon for a free buffet and you can see a Britney Spears impersonator who is probably better than the real Britney Spears appearing across the street at Planet Hollywood.
But wait! There’s also a Prince tribute show (or is it “the artist known as the impersonator of the artist known as Prince”?), a Michael Jackson tribute show (for adults 9 and older), Sinatra tribute show (this guy is such a good mimic he even roughs people up like Frank), Bee Gees tribute show (which should be called “Stayin’ Alive”), and Four Seasons tribute show (JERSEY BOYS). I spoke at the Las Vegas Academy of the Arts. Good turnout but I’m sure more would have attended if a Ken Levine impersonator had appeared instead.
Uber is coming soon to Las Vegas. No official start date has been announced but they should be hitting pedestrians within the next few weeks.
The Hash House a Go Go at the Linq is the Hungry Heifer with Snickers flapjacks.
Cirque de Soleil has a show in every hotel except Circus Circus.
There’s a Dean Martin Drive that intersects with Jerry Lewis Way. On that corner is a pawnshop. You’d think there’d be a bar and clown college.
Drove by Wayne Newton’s Casa de Shenandoah estate (which is surrounded by pod malls. Wendy’s as far as the eye could see.) Newton has fallen on hard times financially and has been forced to sell his beloved garish complex. Among his debts: $600,000 to the Oakland Airport for parking fees. Jesus, man, take the BART.
I miss the days when the mob owned Vegas and hotels weren’t fairy castles or pyramids, people dressed for the evening, being a VIP didn’t mean you earned rewards points, statues didn’t piss, slots paid off in coins, swimming pools were for swimming, casinos were quiet, and when Elvis came to town it was to film a movie; not marry people. Oh, and there was no crime. But as always, Vegas was great goofy fun. I lost dough but saved Dobermans.
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