Seven Images For Thursday

My cup of odd and interesting images overfloweth, which is great because I'll have some fun stuff to blog while I travel to New York and then Fairbanks, Alaska, in the coming few weeks. But I'm in a giving mood at the moment, so first off, a listener sent in this tattoo, above. That's quite a Vegas fan, huh? Anyone else got wild Vegasy tatts? The Las Vegas Convention and Visitors Authority should run a contest! Or at LEAST O'Sheas.

This came in the mail yesterday...


...and yes, it's a pair of sample tampons. Sent by my grocery store. To a household of two gay guys and two Chihuahuas. Presumably, they're supposed to data-mine the information they collect from our saver cards, right, in which case we'd be getting free samples of Good N Plenty and Wheat Thins. So the next time someone paranoid warns you that you're giving up your privacy to these marketers, just tell them about this. I'm no longer concerned; they're not really competent enough. And, in the meantime, anyone need a tampon? (One of them is still unopened. Shall I put it on the TheStripPodcast.Com prizelist?)

The other day I was at the Coffee Pub, a once-hot power-breakfast spot just east of the Strip on Sahara. Not so hot anymore, I guess, seeing how she...


...hasn't worked at KVBC for many years now, and it's not even called KVBC anymore. And this was one of the newer photos on the wall.

Speaking of walls...


...at Mandalay Place, you may notice a new sign touting these three chefs, Hubert Keller, Susan Feninger and Rick Moonen. All were contestants on Top Chef Masters and/or judges on Top Chef. Notice anything missing in the marquee? Oh, that's right: Any mention of Top Chef. I'm sure it's because the Bravo folks hold a tight rein on the branding, but it's odd for them to hold back in this way because it would've been a free billboard for the show in a heavily trafficked shopping esplanade connecting the Mandalay Bay and Luxor. How many thousands of eyeballs march by this every day? Oh well.

I mentioned this somewhere, but given that the R-J reported that July was our hottest ever -- take that, global warming deniers who think a late-season DC snowstorm negates melting polar ice -- I thought I'd show it again because I like it:


That's a dolly full of Häagen-Dazs -- a dolly full of Dolly Madison woulda been funner -- waiting to go up an elevator outside the New York-New York to the ice cream shop in the arcade there. Yum. Which reminds me: Anyone catch any overheated tourists mounting that ice sculpture at the Crystals? Will happen, sooner or later.

At first glance, there's nothing to odd about this image from the R-J during the World Series of Poker...


...until you think to yourself, "If I'm a 7-year-old, female poker fan would it really occur to me to ask this particular guy for an autograph?" I mean, (a) why is a 7-year-old a poker groupie in the first place but anyhow, (b) is Harrah's CEO Gary Loveman really a celebrity in this universe? Do you even think he has ever bet on a hand of Texas Hold 'Em in his life?

And finally, some of you have asked what my old car looked like. I found this from a few weeks ago at the Rio.


It's actually a somewhat flattering angle and still you can see several dings, that yellow stripe directly in front of the front tire, how the stitching on the top on this 1998 Sebring is coming undone. The back bumper was actually mended a little by, uh,White-Out. (A friend thought he was being helpful when I was on vacation and he was watching the house. Scary part: It looked better.) And that doesn't even account for the major engine problems.

Yes, everyone. I pledge to be more careful with my beautiful new vehicle. Especially, Emily, when we're driving you and Archie to Michigan at the end of August for your fancy shmancy fellowship. If anything happened to you, I'm thinking your mom might never supply me brisket again.