my brother, michael, and his wife, katy, are meeting me in vegas. it’s their first vacation since they had my niece almost three years ago. my brother’s a lot like me though you wouldn’t know it till you’ve let him in – that’s how he gets’ya | that’s how he got’er
i didn’t take a lot of photographs. its pointless to take a lot pictures of las vegas. everything looks like the mall or some other place but small and clean: small and clean new york / small and clean ancient rome / small and clean pirate ship…. maybe i took photographs…
a casino-none of casino security is ok with cameras anywhere. it doesn’t matter what hotel/casino it is or how much of a dump it is or how tragic that man was- you’re not allowed to take photos on a casino floor no matter what. they’re not going to ask again
on the strip, a lot of mexicans flick full-color double-sided business cards of prostitutes at tourists. they wear shirts with big-block letters that read “girls direct to you in 20 minutes”. i helped them pass the cards cards out. katy got me one of their shirts. FLICK
one of blackjack dealers told me that if i call i shouldn’t expect the girl on the card to come. he also said i should tell the girl that this is my fantasy and i won’t pay if she cums. he was fat, sported spiky blonde hair and wore the kind of rings guys who buy rings at spencers wear. he told me table dealers are the gods of the hotel/casino employees and all the janitors and maids rush to open doors for him- huge money says he’s you know…insanely good at xbox live.
-i won a lot of money and i spent it all.