Heading back to Vegas the middle of this month. My cousin and some other folks are all turning 30 and they wanted to do it out there. It's going to be good times.

They all want to go eat at one of these fancy tapas bars on Saturday night. Hey, I enjoy great food as much as the next guy; but I don't give a rats ass about exotic garnish and funny-shaped plates. And furthermore, why the hell would someone go to a restraunt that sells you food that other people can eat of your plate? I guess as long as the sangria is flowing we won't have any problems. But I'm not sure, because I've never had sangria. I'm hoping this fruity joint sells PBR or something just in case.

My favorite hole in the wall joint in Vegas is this place called the Stage Door. It's this total dump on Flamingo, nestled in the shadow of the Flamingo Hotel and Casino. You can get a beer and a hotdog for $2.

Go down to the end of the block at Flamingo and Koval and there's Ellis Island. Less divey, but they've got an outdoor barbecue and $7 dinner plates that could feed a small family. They give you like half a chicken and four sides. It's ridiculous. I suggest the ribs.

There's a tond of other places, but I'd hate to give away any real treasures.

Posted by: shank at 06:34 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Pizza that's been in the fridge for several hours is always better than pizza that's just been delivered; it's even better than pizza that's just come out of the oven.

I've heard many of the tired old hypotheses that attempt to explain the phenomena; but I prefer to believe that it's a mystery so pure and profound that we should just appreciate it as one of life's beautiful little idiosyncrasies.

Behold. Left over pizza!

Posted by: shank at 02:59 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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