Only in Vegas

I started the evening last night at a wedding chapel. A new one, a big, fancy one that was having its official grand opening reception. They had two — two! — Elvis impersonators. The dedication was moving, with the owners displaying a plaque memorializing the long marriages of their parents and their own 40-year union. There was a lot of talk about love and commitment and people building a future together.

Then I got invited to a porn party.

The annual Adult Video News trade show starts today, where porn purveyors from all over flock to Vegas to "meet" and "greet" and show off their products and give each other awards for screwing on camera. An old roommate from when I first moved here knows people who know people in that world, and she periodically calls me up when she has some of them over. I don't know why. Maybe she's trying to impress me.

Just about everyone had their clothes on, and there were few people there that you would want to see with their clothes off. One fat guy was walking around in a tiny leather thong and a bow tie. Other than that it looked like a normal mixer. But it was awful. Everyone was practically shouting while talking to each other. It was supposed to be BYOB, but almost nobody did, so all that was available was the hostess' box-o-wine and a rapidly dwindling case of Heineken that somebody brought. While people were talking at the top of their voices, they bopped and flounced around like teenagers trying to be naughty for the first time — but these people were all middle-aged and up.

Still, it was worth it just to hear what bullshit my old roommate was spewing this time around:

1. She's starting a nudist bed and breakfast in her house. Except, it's not her house. She's buying it from one of her partners in the business. (It's a damn nice house, by the way. Big yard. Pool. Tennis court.) It's valued at $370,000 in county records. And she has a lot of partners in the venture, but she's fired a few, and she's planning on firing the guy who's allegedly selling her the house.

Yes, talking to this woman frequently makes your head spin.

2. Her ex-husband and his new girlfriend have a hit out on them from the Mob. They ripped off someone's drugs and now there's a contract on their lives. "How can you know that?" I said. "Those aren't exactly advertised." She said her "bouncer" told her, and he knows because he knows "everyone" in town. No one at the party was acting even remotely like a bouncer.

3. There's another business in the works — a nudist resort on 10 acres outside of town. Then the house would be set up for swing parties. Or maybe it was the other way around. The property is really nice, she said, with a race track, and horse exercise yard, and really good stables .... "Um," I said, "is it a good idea to ride a horse naked?" She then told me that the house on the property is the one used in the movie "Casino." Problem: While that house exists, it is not out of town. It's well inside town, actually. Also, it doesn't sit on 10 acres, and it's on a freakin' golf course.

So it was fun. But I'm going to ignore her calls from now on.

We Hoovered up the water in Lake Mead ...

"Well," the astute gentleman said upon surveying this scene, "that's a lot of water that isn't there."


Still, this ain't gonna stop me from taking a long, hot and totally pointless shower tonight.

... and winners never — die?

There was a hearse parked in front of one of the crappy weekly apartment places on Sixth Street the other night — not one there on official business, although that wouldn't have been surprising. It was old, something from the 1970s, maybe, with the paint blasted off the hood by years of sunlight and frayed curtains in the back windows.

Still, the owner went the extra mile and got a vanity license plate.

Which was this: QUITTRS.

It really said that.

See: Redundant

The second one bothers me more because somebody paid a professional to make it. That means nobody involved took the time to say, "Uh, dude?"


Full disclosure: I've been walking past this sign almost every day for most of a year and only noticed the goof last week. So, overall, not a lot of attention to detail on this block.

Mr. Helpful

He had a smile on his face as he sat on the street corner, feasting on takeout noodles and laughing a henchman's laugh to himself.

As I walked by, he said, "How far is it to Memphis from here?"

"A long way," I said.

And he thanked me.

Not quite a civil rights struggle

Oh, the humanity:

When Todd Phillips looks to the future in Las Vegas, he says he sees a day when everyone, regardless of gender, will have to pay the same price to get into a nightclub.

That vision, he says, became clearer Monday when a decision was handed down by the Nevada Equal Rights Commission on a complaint he brought a year ago after his wife got a free gym membership and he didn't.

To paraphrase Office Space: Who the @#*! is this ass-clown?

The Las Vegas Athletic Club, our local chain of very fine megagyms, regularly runs a special in which ladies can join free. This wanker apparently has a problem with that. And because of his problem, now an entire sector of the economy is in a dither because of the NERC, in its wisdom, said the practice is discriminatory. So what does this do to ladies nights? What about our fancy nightclubs and "adult" pools, which charge different admission prices for men and women? There are lawsuits a-comin'.

Phillips ... said he thinks letting women into health clubs or nightclubs free is demeaning to them. It reinforces the idea, he said, that women do not earn as much money as men.

Actually, it reinforces the idea that these businesses want female customers. Because then they'll get more male customers, who will spend money trying to meet the female customers. (Also, according to LVAC, women are more diligent about paying their membership dues, so the club doesn't feel they have to get the money up front.)

Like I said — Ass. Clown. And he has a wife! Isn't your spouse supposed to let you know when you're being an ass-clown? That's one of the benefits of having a partner — there's someone who can pat you on the arm and say, "Take a deep breath, dear," and you'll actually listen to them!

Okay, two more things:

1. I joined LVAC and paid, I think, a $1 signup fee. (Phillips paid $10; his wife was free.) I think most gyms will waive the fee to get your business. They make far more on a membership than they would with a fee.

2. This has been covered in other states as well, but it was handled best by the Daily Show, which covered the well-known Colorado case:



Wankers.

Freakish

The last few days there have been strange formations in the sky. Fluffy, amorphous, ranging in color from bright white to dark gray. They block out the sun. And sometimes, when they're covering the sky, water falls out of thin air!

Yes, it's been that long since it rained.