I was in the middle of writing this weeks blog when my computer had a mini crash and the document disappeared ..The computer Gods have screwed me again. One day I will have to have a talk with them. With a baseball bat and a roll of tape.

The best Little Orehouse or Meet the New Boss

By Royal Hopper 

There is a sign above a store in a dusty windblown Arizona town that reads “The Best Little Orehouse.”

As the sun rises above the mountains in the distance characters right out of an old western B Movie, men in big hats and women in long dresses move around sleepily preparing their wares for the gathering horde of camera toting tourists and local media …all ten of them. Of course down the road away from the fantasy someone still asks for food with a sign written in magic marker and someone with more money than sense still stumbles out of a door regretting what they did last night.

Just down the road a small heard of furry horde of four legged beasts wait for the tourists to eagerly buy buckets of dried alfalfa cubes to feed their semi tame stomachs. You gotta love donkeys. They don’t care how you dress or how much cash you have in your pocket. They don’t even care how bad you smell or what religion you practice or what language you speak.

As long as you have a cube of alfalfa in your pocket you are welcome by the four legged population of Oatman.
Just so you know the Mormons have not taken over the City of Sin and the furry four legged creatures being fed by tourists aren’t Dead Heads waiting for the Grateful Dead seance/ reunion concert. It was actually two places a mini Vegas for older people called Laughlin and a sleepy little tourist old west recreation called Oatman, Arizona.

My wife and I took a break from the City of Sin and traveled south to the Nevada/Arizona border town called Laughlin and while we were there traveled to the “Ghost town of Oatman.” Laughlin was just as fake and just as dedicated to selling you things you dont need and taking your money but it was quiet and the people were polite and the music was free so it was totally different.
Oatmen was designed to look like a old ghost town in the old west and was about the size of one. The donkeys who are semi tame come down from the surrounding hills when the temperatures warm up in the morning. I swear I thought for a moment one of them was staring at my wife’s butt and then for a moment in looked like he was staring at mine. It was very uncomfortable. The senior donkey brayed to me that he had just been appointed to the National Security Council.

When we left the City of Sin to go on this week end adventure we went past an intersection with a sign holder facing every direction, a man in his pajamas running walking down the road lost and one sleeping under the remains of a tent buried in the sand and a bus load of tourists heading for the Strip.

At then end of the week end when we got back to the City of Sin nothing had changed. There were still people living outdoors huddled against the short desert winter, still bus loads of tourists heading for week ends they can’t afford, and a whole seven mile long stretch of pretend places to do it in. Pretend jungles, seashores, gardens and deserted Islands and pretend 30s night clubs run by pretend gangsters.

. Driving down this Paradise of a road on the first day back you see the usual. A woman leaned against concrete wall her worldly possessions in the shopping cart beside her as she dug into her prize possession a stale 7/11 sandwich.

Perhaps and by the looks of it her gusto she exhibited was undoubtedly in an effort to pretend she wasn’t leaning against a concrete wall on a back alley commuter street in the middle of winter in Las Vegas eating a sandwich she either purchased with charity or shop lifted at a convenience store. Eyes closed savoring every taste of the sandwich she seemed determined to block out everything unpleasant which in her terms was everything but her sandwich.

It is what it is
Life in the City of Sin
Love you Sinners

The other day I heard not just one but two tourists say something wise about their trip to Las Vegas.
“I lost everything in my daily budget and I had to quit for the day whether its 9 in the morning or midnight,” said the man as he headed for his room. I about fell to the floor when I heard another tourist repeat the same wisdom. “I had fun,” said the all American type with the Midwestern accent generic polo shirt and curly over groomed hairdo, “but I my budget says I need to call it a night,”

These men understand Las Vegas surprisingly well for young men. They read the signs and listen to the lore. They understand that In a strange way Las Vegas is the most honest place in the world. It is as if you walk in the doors and it shouts at you ” Hey I am going to take your money. Dude seriously this is Vegas I am going to take your money.”

The thing these men realized and the thing we all love about the City of Sin is its honesty about being dishonest. It is a crass place dedicated to greed, lust and decadence and doesn’t pretend otherwise.

That is why it calls itself The City of Sin and the Big Apple or the Windy City or the City by the Bay. This is the City of Sin and we exist to take your money, make you drink to much, make you take strangers up to your room who will steal from you when your in the bathroom (robbery involves force or the threat of force).
Somehow after more than 80 years of taking people money and proudly shouting to the world that this is the city of sin and we are going to take your money somehow people still come here thinking that this city loves them.

They still think the nice girl at the bar is really attracted to them and they still sometimes wake up minus their wallets or spend their vacation money in a day or an hour. By all means come to the City of Sin have fun. Blow off some steam and go home.
You will be fine as long as you stay in budget and remember what this City is called and why it is called that and that it is here to take your money.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
Now a poem about a particularly deu@@@ couple dedicated to all the drama kings and queens who sit in corners and on stools expecting the world to kiss their ass and one particularly obnoxious goat roper couple who spent several minutes staring into each others eyes, checking to see if anybody noticed and muttering insults just loud enough to be heard but not understood. This is Vegas Baby you aint crap….

Get over your self

By Royal Hopper

To all aholes who dress like cowboys and who look like they just got buried
Who tell every tell every passing stranger that they just got married
Who act like little children pouting and scowling when somebody stares
Get over your self .. This is Vegas _ nobody cares
We say we do smile and clap like its Ellis and we just got off the Ferry
But truly to get you gone wed give you cab fares
We dont care about your cursing anyway what is a Fu@@berry
So get along little doggie and by little I mean 5 foot 4
Chuck Norris you aint so there is the door
It’s not because we care or because we have pity
Its because you are an ass and this is Sin City
So whether you drink wine or whiskey or gin
This isnt Nebraska
Its the City of Sin
Tale Care fellow Sinners

“Since my baby left me I found a new place to dwell I’m down at the end of lonely street at Heart Break Hotel,” Elvis Presley.

The ghost of Elvis

by Royal Hopper
Recently at a Vegas hotel a man wearing a leather jacket sporting “An Elvis hairdo” was walked out the casino for being drunk and harassing guests and being a general all around ahole.

“I’m looking for my pink Cadillac,” he swore as the local order keepers escorted him off the property they were hired to protect. Elvis had left the building …the very one the real King played more than 800 ties in the 70s ..the one his fans were informed he had left so many times after a show in the days of polyester and jogging suits. Elvis left the building and the parking lot walking down Paradise Road in imitation of a man who had already been ghost at least 15 years before he was even born.
The ghost of the Mississippi Bard Elvis Aaron Presley sometimes in his white V neck sequined jump suit, sometimes in his standard issue rebel leather jacket is everywhere you go in the City of Sin. In the summer Fake Elvi populate the streets putting on shows for tokes and tips.

I once spied a man dressed like Elvis on a holiday and told him “what a great costume” he looked right at me and said “What costume.”
Men in certain age groups still sometimes sport the famous Elvis Pompadour hair. Songs that were golden oldies when I as in high school still blast from PAs in casios throught the City of Sin ode to the “good old days” when white guys in white sequined jump suits who knew a little karate could be considered rebellious, cool and sexy.

One year in the 80s an Elvis imitator drunk off his ass jumped head first into three feet of water and when they pulled him out he was still singing ….”You aint nothing but a hound dog,” as bllod and black hair dye mingled on the ground in front of him. His imitators abound. There are Asain Elvi, African American Elvi, Irish Elvi. Mexican Elvi ( I mean literally from Mexico of course) The flying Elvi parachute team and Elvi of all shapes and sizes visit the City of Sin to model or salute their Icon. I even met three female Elvi once
Elvis packed Vegas showrooms right up until his death even when he was so heavy he had to have his jump suits specially tailored.

He is a much a Sin City icon as pin striped gangsters, crazy reclusive billionaires and aging superstars.

That is Life in City of Sin Houndog
Love You Sinners

Two days before the New Year began a child of about 10-years old walked up to me while I was at work looked me squarely in the eye and stated out loud “You stink.”
After a few minutes of trying to covertly sniff my underarms to see if my deodorant was failing I realized something in this young child’s mind and experience had made me the symbol of his ” no good very bad” (Winnie the Pooh) 2016.

It says a lot about 2016

By Royal Hopper

It was a relatively safe New Years Eve by Las Vegas standards. No one was killed as a direct result of New Years activity in the City of Sin. They got drunk and ran off the road, they took to much medication and forgot that head butting cars would hurt, they forgot they were old and tried to do the twist all night long but New Year’s Eve itself didn’t do anything to them.

The Beetlemania band they listened as they remembered the old days likely werent even in first grade when the Beetles broke up. That didn’t stop one Baby Boomer from doing the twist like it was 1965 and this trendy new band from Liverpool was Rocking her world. Somehow she didnt fall over or pass out. She was an experienced drinker. She was an experienced everything as the vintage clothing she retreived from her closet and her knowing all the words to 50 -year old songs, even stoned, drunk showed.

Because of truoble in years gone by casinos tend to double up on security and local police go on high alert and go into the “Don’t you cause no trouble and there won’t be no trouble mode they are justly famous on infamous for.
This usually means trouble makers are faced with the stare of authority figures every time they make a move and must wait until after New Years to commit a crime. Which is often here.

As he left the place I was standing the young lady or man I was talking (I honestly could not tell)  to, their face still lit with the rage of whatever pissed them off, stalked away secure in their clueless anger. 2016 was a lot like that youngster. Mean, loud and clueless and I for one am grateful it is gone. Take Care fellow Sinners. I love you guys.

A Few Facts:

By this time last year there had already been three murders http://lasvegassun.com/news/2016/feb/22/a-killing-every-46-hours-so-far-in-2016/ with 17 being logged by February of 2016.
More than 36 million people visited the City of Sin in 2016 paying an average of $126.00 and change for a night’s stay.

http://www.lvcva.com/includes/content/images/media/docs/ES-YTD-2016.pdf based on 2015 stats 47 percent came to the City of Sin for pleasure, 11 percent came to visit relatives, 10 percent said they came to gamble and 32 percent lied their asses off and refuse to press charges when the hooker rolled them because their wives and/or husbands were scary bitches who trained UFC and love shotguns.
They spent an average of $578.00 and change and 67 percent of them were employed. Please tell me .. I mean. If you don’t have a job what are you doing in Las Vegas?
http://lasvegastourism.com/lasvegas_conventions.htm
9 percent of those 36 million visitors go to conventions . In my time I have seen Target shooting conventions, PH.D conventions, Anime conventions, black hat and white hat hacker conventions and a My Pretty Pony fan club convention… I kid you not……You haven’t seen anything until you have seen a grown man wearing pony ears, trying to look intimidating as he asked for directions ot the My Pretty Pony convention. I swear to you I didn’t giggle. Events on tap for this year include The World of Concrete, (I kid you not it is a huge convention) The Asian/American Business Association, The Sports Licensing and Talgate Association folks The Adult Entertainment Conventions (It means Porn genius)and the country’s car and acessories show CES that starts in a few days.
http://www.lasvegas.net/conventions-calendar/2017/1/

Thats life in the City of Sin
Have a great 2017 Sinners