ONLINE GAMBLING AND CASINO GUIDE

I’ve been taking it easy this week or so. My shoulder is way messed up and everything I do seems to make it worse. So I stayed around home, played with my bird and did some overdue housekeeping. No shows, no partying, no staying up late, just me, a parrot, the couch and some Vicodin here and there. Besides, I’m stressing over an investment that went bad last year. That business takes up an awful lot of my time these days and it still isn’t paying off. So it goes. We do what we’ve got to do.

It occurs to me that a lot of you never really leave the strip when you come here. I thought I’d give you a glimpse of what it is like to live in Las Vegas. Unfortunately, when I have my camera with me and ready to go, there is never an Elvis in the checkout line in front of me. But, trust me, many times there is an Elvis, a drag queen, or some other local in a bizarre costume. Aside from that, life is somewhat normal.

This morning I got up early because I was about three thousand miles overdue for the boggermobile’s oil change. I wanted to make sure I finally got that taken care of. It isn’t the $33.00 it costs that keeps me from getting it done, it is the time it takes away from everything else to sit there and twiddle my thumbs, or tweet my twitter, as the case may be.

I did make it this morning. They open at 9am and I got there at 8:59am. So they punished me and made me sit there in front of a closed door for a good ten minutes while they tossed things down the hole, took out yesterday’s trash and various other Sunday morning duties. I did not get a hello; not a single acknowledgment that I was there. Eventually they did get around to letting me in. The Manager greeted me by name. Woah, that was odd. He never asked my name, just, “An oil change today, Pam?”
It was only a few minutes and I was back on my journey with new oil and refreshed air in my tires.

On Sunday mornings I tweet my weekly Wal-Mart trip. As odd as that sounds, my Twitter followers seem to enjoy it. I doubt they sit and wait for 10am Sunday to go to Wal-Mart with me, but there does seem to be a lot of the same people each week sending me tweets back while I’m shopping. So, this was just another Sunday in a local’s life.

I live on the east side of Las Vegas. I’m real close to Downtown. This is an old neighborhood with what used to be winter homes back in the fifties. Dean Martin used to live in this neighborhood, as did Liberace back in the fifties. You can see from the photos, the east side is in need of a little updating.

The Wal-mart I visit is on the west side. It looks much nicer over there, but they really lost their asses in the real estate market. All those California style tract homes can be snapped up for next to nothing now.

Eventually I get to my Wal-Mart.  The drive over there on Sunday mornings is always nice.  The speed limit is 45mph but on Sunday morning everyone goes 35mph.  I park way out in the lot so not to get in the mix trying to get out of there.  So my shopping trip begins.

You know you want some Little Debbies!  I used to love those things when I was a kid.  I didn’t get any this time, though.

I guess finally someone did something for those who ‘cannot boil an egg!’.  Well, here ya go.

Decisions, decisions!  It used to be you could always rely on Wonder Bread to be, well, Wonder Bread.  Now there are choices.  Damn.  I went with the whole grain because I care about my health.

My parrot loves Matzo crackers.  I looked and looked for weeks for this kosher section.  It was not there.  I found someone and bitched about it.  Now its back!  Echo is in crackers once again.  Always buy something in that section so they don’t off it again.

Someone set their kids loose in the store and they were making the best of it.

Hey, cute jammies! And only eight bucks.  Deal!

I didn’t think I was going to score any photos of white trash.  Everyone looked so normal in there this morning.  But as the clock passed 11am, the trailer park woke up and started filing in to Wal-mart.  I caught a couple of the wiley trailer park dwellers in their natural habitat.

Time for check-out.  A check-out lady pulled me out of line to check me out in a shorter lane.  Then when we got there a lady had already gotten in line.  So, the check-out lady, feeling bad, offered to check me out in a closed lane.  The lady who had gotten in line before me pitched a wholey Hell fit about it.  There was no reasoning with her that she was next in line at her check-out and she was yelling about, “It isn’t fair!  This isn’t right.  I’m offended…”  Which just goes to show me, not all trash is white.  I think she was royally pissed off because some white lady was going to get to the cashier before she did.  Whatever.  I wish my life was so simple and carefree that all I had to do in a day is invent ‘unfair’ and cause scenes.  She probably called management later to complain about the black olives being kept in a can instead of in a jar like the privileged green ones.

I made it home and my parrot, Echo, helped me put groceries away and sample everything.  Then we had lunch.

So, there ya have it.  Just a day in the life of a blogger local.

By the way, by the time I got to the cashier at the closed check-out stand, the fucking bitch was just finishing up at her cashier.

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