Back to work today.

Yes, that's right, work.

People back in Louisville give me shit about going to these things, like they're nothing more than a free vacation.

Well there is that.

But the people who've attended these conferences never give me any shit. They know better. Days filled with often boring presentations are just as tiring as doing the so-called "real work" I'd be doing back home.

Having said that - If the thing was in Des Moines or some other boring city, I wouldn't be here.

After nine hours of sessions today, I'm going to take a nap to make sure that I'm nice and refreshed for my big date.

That's right, I have a date tonight. So ha ha.

I know, I know, I'm late. I skipped an entire day.

Yesterday was a long day. For some stupid reason I'd bought tickets for the 10:30 PM showing of La Reve. Probably because I'm a dumbass, but possibly because the other showings were sold out. I don't remember.

Anyway, because it was going to be such a long day, I slept in until 9:30 or so. I just hung around The Rio all day long. I played some video poker, and for lunch I went and had a Rogue Chocolate Stout (126) with my chicken tenders.

Then I took a nap for several hours.

This is exciting, isn't it?

Before I went to the show I stopped and had dinner. With my dinner I had a couple more Rogues (158). I traded some text-messages back and forth with VigilanteGirl and RealTrainGirl, then eventually I took a cab over to The Wynn.

That's (obviously) the outside of where they had the show. You're not supposed to take pictures of the inside but I managed to sneak this one before the show started:

This was a pretty cool show. More dancy and less acrobatic than the Cirque Du Soleil shows that I've attended in Las Vegas. Actually, a large part of the show was ruined for me when The Most Beautiful Girl In The History Of The Universe popped out of the water about five feet in front of me and smiled. I spent the rest of the 90-minute show finding and then staring at her whenever I found her.

When The Most Beautiful Girl In The History Of The Universe wasn't visible I watched the other performers. I really like this artsy-fartsy stuff.

After the show I went back to The Rio. I was thinking about grabbing another beer but The Tilted Kilt was already closed so I just played some video poker for a while (I actually tripled my money, too bad I was playing for quarters instead of dollars) and got to bed a little after 2:00.

Prologue: Same as last night. I sat at the bar and wrote in my notebook when I felt like it.

8:14
I arrive and order a Rogue Chocolate Stout (80). Tastes awful because I just brushed my teeth. The solution: Drink faster.

Here's my rock admiring the Tilted Kilt glass.

8:18
It's pretty dead in here right now, at least at the bar. Good.

8:25
A couple in their forties just sat next to me. They're looking at the beer list. I'm going to guess: Bud Light for her and Sam Adams's for him.

8:28
I was off, but not as far off as you might think. He got a Sin City Amber and she got a Sprite. I hate them.

8:35
One of the waitresses was complaining that somebody took her picture without permission. I told her that it happens to me all the time. I'm not sure what's so funny, but she laughed and touched my arm. She must want it up the butt.

8:40
I'm revising my opinion of the couple next to me. The girl is in her mid-thirties, and the guy with her may be her father.

8:41
Another Rogue (96). Fucking yummy.

8:44
Another revision. The chick is a pro and the dude doesn't know it. He actually thinks that she's interested in him.

8:45
The john just got a black and tan. He's telling the hooker that it's what everybody in Europe drinks. What a dork.

8:49
I wonder if every entry I make this week is going to be this boring.

8:50
There are some incredibly ugly people in the world.

8:55
Some fuckers just sat to my right. I'm guessing three Foster's. I may have to close my notebook as one of the fuckers is being nosey.

8:57
Two Grey Goose Martinis and one Bacardi & Coke. I should have known, but my brain is geared toward beer.

9:00
I'm taking off my glasses. Watch out ladies!

9:10
Steve the bartender is working tonight. We're talking about how freaked out I was at this time last year.

9:12
Showed PictureGirl my rock. She thinks it's cute. She definitely wants it up the butt. My dick, not the rock.

9:15
A hot girl just sat to my left.

9:22
This glass is almost empty. Do I want another Rogue?

9:25
Yes. Yes I do (110).

9:35
The hot girl left. Oh well.

9:40
I can feel myself being pulled to the Southeast. I wonder, if I'm being pulled by her, am I not also pulling her toward me?

9:45
Time to take a piss.

9:50
A goth couple just sat to my right. My guess: Guinness for both of them.

9:51
I nailed it.

10:00
GothGuy is smoking a clove cigarette. Now I'm starving to death.

Today I went up to downtown and dicked around for a few hours.

Here's a picture of the famous cowboy on Fremont Street.

To eat and drink, I went to the 777 Brewpub at Main Street Station.

I mentioned back in May, but the Black Chip Porter there is world-class. I had a large glass (69) and chased it with a small glass (81).

Here's my rock being all jealous of my yummy beer.

Now it's time to take a nap before I head back to the bar tonight.

Because even at 7:00 AM, even if I'm the only person at the bar, a beautiful girl will still get up on the stage thingy and dance for me.

I was asked this question via PM today:

What is gained by having integrity, humility, patience, stupidity, etc. ?

Prologue: Today at the airport I bought myself a little notebook. This entry is a transcription of what I wrote in that notebook tonight at the Tilted Kilt.

10:00
Another Rogue (48). I forgot to order an unfrosted glass so I'm letting it sit for a while. Fucking frosted glasses. I hate them so much.

10:05
There are an awful lot of what my friend Mike used to call "goat ropers" around. But I guess these are real cowboys because there's some rodeo thingy in town.

10:10
I like Las Vegas. There's so much opulence here - it's a city built upon the rubble of broken dreams after all - but that opulence, that glitz and glamour, it's not pretentious at all.

There are two fuckers sitting at the table in front of me. They're wearing fucking leisure suits and drinking fucking martinis. They clearly think that they're better than anyone else here. They suck. But Las Vegas doesn't do that, it doesn't put on airs. It doesn't judge and it doesn't cater. It just is, and it will take my money just as readily as it will take the money of these George Hamilton wannabes sitting in front of me.

For all its fakery and all its posing and its pretty wrappings, Las Vegas is still one of the most honest places I've ever been.

10:25
To my right is a guy in a cowboy hat being hit on by this fat rodeo groupie. I guess she figures that he's used to riding livestock, so what the hell. He's ridden worse. Maybe.

10:35
I deleted her number from my phone back in June. I'm sure I had a good reason for that.

10:36
Five assholes just sat at the table to my left. I bet they order a bunch of Coronas.

10:40
Four Coronas and one Jack & Coke. I guess I know which one of them will be playing the man at their orgy tonight.

10:41
OMG one of them just told a joke or said something funny and now they all high-fived each other. High-fiving white guys really piss me off.

10:45
I wonder what happened to the girl from the plane.

10:46
I'm drinking too fast, but this is fucking yummy. I order another Rogue Chocolate Stout (64).

10:47
The cowboy and the heifer just left together. Maybe I should buy myself a cowboy hat.

10:48
The assholes are taking pictures. They're passing the camera around, and each of them is taking a picture of the other four.

10:52
Now they've got the waitress taking a picture of all five of them.

11:00
I'm thinking about how different this night could have been if I wasn't a dumbass.

11:04
Two hot girls just sat at the table behind me. I can't look without being obvious.

11:05
I wonder how yeast would deal with Sucralose or some other fake sugar substitute.

11:07
The Jack & Coke guy is the only one smoking cigarettes. The others must limit their smoking to cocks.

11:10
The girls are from St. Louis and they just asked me what I'm writing. That's all the opening I need. I'm going in.

11:30
I'm back out. They're tired. That's okay though. I'll be here for a week.

11:45
I'm tired too. My body is telling me that it's 2:24 in the morning. I'm allowed to be tired.

After checking into my room, and managing a fitful nap, a woke up a little after 5:00 and went down to the casino.

First things first. I needed to eat. So I went to this All American Bar place for a burger and fries. That's not why I went there though. I went there because they have Alaskan Amber, one of my all-time favorites.

I ended up having two of them (2024) with my dinner. Absolutely yummy.

This is just a picture of the bar. Exciting, isn't it?

Next, and if you've been reading me for more than six months you already know this, I went to The Tilted Kilt. Probably my favorite bar in Las Vegas, and definitely my favorite place on the strip.

The only person there that I knew is this one waitress. She remembered me, which I will consider to be a good thing because I'm not the type that gets remembered for being obnoxious.

To drink, I had some of the best beer I've ever had the pleasure of drinking.

Rogue Chocolate Stout (32)

(draft) A fantastic beer, from the intense chocolate syrup aroma through the creamy mouthfeel to the delicious finish. Beyond yummy.

I kinda wanted to just stay there and drink these all night long, but I'm still, even in Las Vegas, a lightweight. So I came up here to write some journal entries.

Now I'm going back down to drink some more.

Standing at a little bar at the Cincinnati airport, I heard a voice, or felt a presence, or smelled a perfume. I don't remember what it was, but something happened. Something that made me turn around.

It ended as quickly as it had begun. It might be her it's her no it's not her. Same hair, similar body, but completely different gait and, once I ran out of the bar and caught up with her, a completely different face.

But the damage was already done.

My first public anxiety attack, right there in terminal B. I could barely walk, I couldn't have spoken if the need had arisen. I stumbled my way from the scene of my disappointment to the seats outside my gate, and I shook. I shook until I remembered my rock. I took my rock out of its pocket and rubbed it with my thumb for about ten minutes, and finally I felt better.

---

The plane was completely full. I had the aisle seat, 29D, and there was a hot girl in the center seat. She kept dozing off and leaning against me. Then she'd wake up and apologize, embarrassed for her transgression. I didn't tell her that it was okay for her to touch me, okay not only because she was hot, but also because it felt good to be useful to someone. If my purpose today was merely to be someone to lean against, to be someone who, by my very presence, helped another person get through a tedious journey, well that was fine with me. Better than nothing, which is what I've been lately.

---

Back when I was much younger and much more afraid of flying, I'd catch myself looking around whatever plane I was on, checking out all of the different people, and wondering are these the people I'm going to die with?

We're all such completely different people. Not just the outward differences though those are the most obvious, but the internal differences, formed from our experiences as we go through life. We are all, by definition and by necessity, different.

But put 200 people on a plane, and no matter what they look like or what their backgrounds are, they're all , for a while at least, sharing the same experience. Perceiving it differently, assigning more or less importance to it, paying more or less attention to it, but for that period while they're all sitting in the same tin can hurtling through the same air towards the same distant destination, their experiences - their life paths if you prefer - they merge.

Of course this happens all the time. You people reading this entry, for example, are all sharing the experience. Every day we encounter other people, other completely autonomous beings, and our lives merge for a bit.

I dunno, maybe I'm drunk.

Wednesday I had a brilliant idea.

I'd go to bed at 8:00 and then get up at 4:00. That way, see, I'd be nice and tired Thursday night and I'd have no trouble at all going to sleep. What a great idea.

Not.

So now it's 10:20 Thursday night as I type this sentence. I'm barely tired. I have to get up at 4:00 in the morning.

I guess the good news is that I'm at least packed. Everything except the shit I'll need in the morning like my toothbrush and deodorant.

I'm going to be sooooo wiped out all day tomorrow, but I know from experience that I won't be able to get to sleep until after midnight. And then my stupid internal clock will snap me awake at 3:30 in the fucking morning because of the time zone change.

I guess it's okay. I'd rather be exhausted in Las Vegas than completely alert back here in Indiana.