Las Vegas Diary - Part June
Now as I type this, I walk thru a portion of the casino floor at the Stratosphere that smells like burnt popcorn and diarrhea. Or maybe that’s just the Starbucks.
Now as I type this, I walk thru a portion of the casino floor at the Stratosphere that smells like burnt popcorn and diarrhea. Or maybe that’s just the Starbucks.
There was no thunder, no glowing doorway, no mysterious wind blowing through the apartment, and no choir of angels politely alerting me that physics had submitted its resignation.
The deck simply felt heavier.