Country Hicks in Vegas Brave the Strip and Pick Their Noses...

Hi everyone! Hi Mom! Hi Greg! Hi John Boy and Mary Ellen! We've now spent over 24 hours in Sin City, and I have lots to report. Before I begin I want to reiterate to all and sundry that the man and I are country folks who would far sooner shit in the woods than brave a city crosswalk. Keeping that in mind, here are my impressions, in no particular order, of the Las Vegas I have thus far seen:

Everything on the strip looks close, (likely because of the gargantuan proportions of like, everything, leading one to think that ones ultimate destination is far, far closer than it really is. We only walked from the Palazzo to the Stratosphere and back, and we were both pretty pooped by the time we made it back. I can tell you though that Bob was far, far whinier than I could ever be. He winged and whined about his sore hip, than his sore foot, than his sore other foot, until I almost felt like finding him a wheelchair and pushing his sorry ass around. We both agreed that I would do some shopping on Saturday without him.

You have to be a goddamn millionaire to truly enjoy yourself here. If you're going to stay in a resort on the Strip, start saving now. Everything here costs way too much, leading Bob and I to walk two miles to find a normal, everyday store and buy some snacks and some beer. Their liquor stores here have scary, highway-trooper-type security dudes in them that ask you menacing questions like, "What are you looking for?" but really they mean "Get what you fucking want already and leave, because your window shopping for booze is making my hardened Vegas ass suspicious." Nuff said, outta there.

The air in Vegas is as dry as a popcorn fart, causing me (not gonna lie here) to attempt to pick my nose raw just trying to make it feel less like someone has filled it with crusty concrete.Not only that, in only one day the skin on my legs is so dry that I'm scratching myself to the point that I have a rash on my stretch marks. Of course, three hot bubble baths so far might have contributed to that....

The Strip is very clean. When we headed out on the street at 6 AM to grab some breakfast at Denny's (me is cheap) there were all sorts of dudes out hosing off the sidewalks, cleaning up, I can only imagine, the vomit from the night before. People drink beer here on the street in broad daylight, people. Coming from Hooterville, Nova Scotia, this was somewhat shocking to lil' ol me.

Next Fact: Slot machines are incredibly cheesy, and mostly all the same once you get past the fact that they have different coloured lights on top. And rather addictive too...I can see how some people can sit there, hour after hour, watching their life drain away as they slurp gin and tonics and chase the big prize. ME? I wagered five bucks, played for an hour and managed to come out the other side with fifteen. I consider that successful.

WHOA! Gotta go. Madame Tussauds beckons. Hope they have a statue of Brad Pitt so I can fondle his wax appendages. Update on that later...TaTa!