Vegas Diary, Part One

A sampling of amusing things I photographed yesterday and while wandering around this morning looking for breakfast.

Not just kicks anymore!

Oh, Route 66, you sold out, man. It used to be about the journey!

Dinner off The Strip

For a change of pace — and probably our only dinner away from The Strip — we had Indian at Mint last night. Very good.

Necessity is the mother of invention

“You know what would make this beer better? If there was some kind of insulating jacket for the can or bottle to keep it colder longer. And also: boobs.”

Rob Ford could take a few lessons from this guy

Despite being put on the permanent ineligibility list, “Charlie Hustle” seems to have done all right for himself. Just about every time I’ve ever been to Vegas, Pete Rose seems to have some afternoon autograph session where a long line of suckers — er, baseball fans — are all too happy to shell out ducats for his signature.

Oh, hell no!

People pay to see this?

Hey! It’s my home planet!

Probably no more authentic than anything else in Vegas, but I’d still buy a few things at both establishments…

Girly drinks

By “cold beer”, they mean Bud, which in my books is a girly drink.

What kind of show is this, Carlos?

“See Santana live in his most intimate setting ever!” said the announcer, which led me to ask him “So Carlos is doing porn now?”

I’d also love to see Pennywise and Suicidal Tendencies play in that (relatively) small room too.

Everything is a potential theme for a slot machine

And I mean everything.

Is this your (ahem) first time in Vegas? Play this:

Dia de los Muertos was only last week, so this is still seasonally appropriate:

Given the number of older women who seem to dig the novels and movies, I’m surprised there was this but not a Twilight slot machine:

Triple chestburster bonus!

This wasn’t surprising at all:

It’s the slot machine Gotham needs!

Click the photo to see it at full size.

And finally, the most Vegas of all the slot machines: