Whiskey Pete’s Hotel and Casino is a place that mom and dad always tried to get me to go to. Yet the years I endured Vegas as a kid made me repugnant to go.
Ya thin red roast beef with horseradish sauce, and Roquefort cheese dressing on our salads was a way to make us happy. But did not hide the truth from us kids, it never masked the drunk dad or overindulgence of his gambling. Alone in Hotel rooms waiting for mom to find dad. The next day endearingly covering him with newspapers to keep him from a sunburn as he naps near the pool. We kids became happily lost as we swam in the beautiful blue pools sipping on Coca-Cola.
I booked punk rock bowling in February. My first one. Then this nasty cold took me over. I keep waiting after two weeks for it to blow… but it is a nasty one. So, I had to cancel yesterday in order not to have to pay. I did and though I am part of the “Old Man Bar” punks… I will have to remember sweetly my punk days and watch from my safe place at home.
Here are a couple of funnies I did over the years, redundant, making fun of the punk scene… yes, I was willing to compromise and go to a really big show.
In truth my compromised perspective was not me… I would not have been happy at the punk rock Disneyland….
Making fun of punk bowlers “trophy whores” and bouncers or “Good Sherpas” … and all the stuff that is part of Big Punk Rock Las Vegas Style.
