Saturday, September 19, 2009

Steve Wynn...Encore owner stingy with cocktails! Big bucks go to dog & ex-wife & heck with customers...





Last night I sauntered into "Encore" on the Vegas strip after capturing a few picturesque video clips of  the Gondoliers on the canals at the Venetian  (check out my YouTube site for exclusive videos).

OMG!

A short gambling streak later, a handful of us slot-players thought we would just die of thirst!

Without a waitress in sight, and suffering from a nasty bout of parched mouth, we were scheming to call out to a bootlegger for some demon rum since the house was obviously dry.

A gander around the room signalled the obvious.

Old money bags, Steve Wynn, was obviously keen on holding onto his loot!

Or, too budget-minded  (mean) to employ another server to lend a hand to the two over-worked bimbo babes who were struggling to keep up with frenzied requests on the Casino floor.

Just maybe, the multi-milliionaire is a cheap-skate when it comes to "watering-down" his paying guests.

Curious, that!

I just read in the morning newspaper (in "Norm's" column, if  I am not mistaken)  that Wynn has his much-coddled puppies chauffeured around in a pricey limousine (worth half-a-million bucks).

Looks like all the moolah he's raking in at the Hotel & Casino (off  the backs of gamblers like toi & moi)  is being  pressed into the sweaty palms  of  handlers for dog upkeep and canine pampering.

Maybe it's time we cut up our blood red Player's cards and slouched off  to an establishment that appreciates our biz, eh?

Maybe then, the liquor will flow freely!

I got to thinking today, though, that there is a solution to the problem.

Since Steve  loves doggies so much, maybe he should spring for a couple of  St. Bernards - and likewise - strag a keg of beer or two around their furry necks.

Yup!

Whenever a patron cries out for a drinkie-pooh for medicinal purposes, at least, the winsome Wynn just has to send in the dogs (and a clown or two from his management team) to facilitate a life-saving chug-a-lug or two.

As I headed out the much-foliaged front doors, I couldn't help but also notice that Wynn is making a killin' elsewhere on the prmieses, too.

Golly, the letch with a penchant for bimbo babes,  is also charging guests ten smackeroos ($10.00) to take a gander at parked Ferraris on the lobby floor in a fancy-schmanzy showroom a hop-and-a-skip away from the Casino floor.

I guess I'm jaded  'cause I would'nt  be caught dead forking over one thin dime for the privilege.

I ain't no wide-eyed kid,  with his nose pressed up against the glass of the candy-store window, after all.

Ferrari's are a dime-a-dozen in Beverly Hills, Steve-o!

Bottom line?

You're not really part of the tony elite in BH or Bel Air 'til a Ferrari hangs a sharp turn on squealing wheels and annoints your leg with a spray of run-off designer water the locals use to perpetrate the green on their well-manicured front lawns.

By the way, I couldn't help but notice that at - "Blush" (the Nightclub boutique) - a crush of of young trendies began to queue along a bank of the spanking-new slots as the withcing hour approached.

Just beyond that permieter, natch, Wynn's security gooks in goon suits, were eyeing up a handful of dubious characters to shadow as the bustling eve wore on.

Judging from the smug looks on their mugs, I expect the whole posse of 'em thought they were being remarkably discreet.

On the contrary, they exhibited all the subtlety of a herd of pink elephants in heat!

Losers, one and all.

Ironic, in a gambling hall, don't 'ya think?



Mayweather vs. Marquez...big fight! Odds on favorite...



Marquez punches are right on the money!



Tonight, two fight greats, take each other on.

In one corner, Juan Manguel Marquez (Mexico)  chomps at the bit after 37 knock-outs in the ring.

In the other, Floyd Mayweather, Jr., growls confidently ready to stake his claim to his 7th undefeated fight.

To some critics, Marquez has the edge; after all, his opponent has not been in the ring for over twenty-one months.

Even still, quite a few seasoned ring-siders are inclined to plunk down their bets Mayweather's way.

Their reasoning is that because Marquez is packing a heavier load (a few pounds) his speed may have lost its edge (which may be his downfall).

Marquez laughs off the suggestion.

"I'm stronger. And, just as fast," he boasted to a sports reporter a few days ago.

Win or lose, he trots away (limps, some say) with 4 million bucks in his punchy little hand.

Not bad for a night's work, eh?

Both boxers are a curious breed.

Both thrill to the night life, apparently, and like to get down 'n dirty.

Marquez, for example, celebrated Mexican Independence Day at  Hooters!

The bimbo babes are crying out:

"Don't mess up his face."

Meanwhile, Mayweather is so hot to trot at the trendy stripper watering holes, that he has actually considered opening up his own prestigious "pussy" club for discerning men only!

Spearmint Rhino gets the nod for best striptease on the strip (well, just off the beaten track, a tad).

But, Sapphire is pretty hot too, according to the man with the golden fist, fancy footwork, and taste for classy tits & ass.

But, right now, the champ is focused on the task at hand, remaining the undefeated champ.

As for Marquez, well, he's a local hero in Mexico right now.

A victory tonight may be cause for a national holiday in his name south of the border, for raising up the image of  the Mexican Latino in the sport of champions.

May the best fighter win!



Big fist for pummeling!


Friday, September 18, 2009

Cher...dinner & show @ Caesars Palace in Vegas! Sweet Deal kicks off September 19th




The unsinkable, non-stoppable, songbird - Cher - returns to the Colosseum (Caesars Palace) tomorrow night after a brief hiatus from the stage.

For a limited time only, ticket-holders can snap up tickets for a special discounted price which includes dinner.

Expect all the old hits ( such as "I got your Babe") to send toes tapping, hearts racing, and headlong down memory lane.

Undoubtedly, a few of the more recent chart-stoppers (Believe), will wow the audiences and die-hard fans, too.

The publicity still for the live! stage performances underscore just how "timeless" (and firmly entrenched in the hearts and minds of the American people) her persona and beauty have become!

Undoubtedly, there will be a number of dazzling costume changes for the Pop chanteuse - and a dizzying array of fabulous hairpieces to match up with 'em - sure to make any drag Queen envious!


I remember the early days when Cher and Sonny starred on their CBS Variety show.


At the top of the show, Cher usually sashayed out; then, a gasp would erupt from the rapt audience - followed by uproarious applause - at the sight of Mrs."B" in the latest outrageous Bob Mackie designer gown.

At this juncture, Cher would maneuver a little turn and joyously scream,

"Let's hear it for the dress!"

In fact, in those heady days when censorship was a tad tighter on the airwaves, each week there was a big brouhaha over racy outfits that often caused a multitude of migraines for the CBS execs. Indeed, on occasion, a dress appeared to be nothing more than a skimpy band-aid pasted on here and there about her tanned slender body.

Throughout the opening number, Cher was inclined to flip her long silky strands to one side, as she ceremoniously licked her lips.

Yes, the perceptible personality quirks stuck, and were great fodder for impersonators to take a poke at ever after.

Once the top brass at CBS got a gander at "The Sonny and Cher Comedy Hour" on its debut in August of 1971 as a five-week summer replacement series, their collective gut instinct was that this was the hot ticket the network was searching for.

So, when "Sonny and Cher" skyrocketed to dizzying heights within weeks on the old boob tube, a pact was signed to return in December to replace "Chicago Teddy Bears" - on Friday nights.

By 1973, the slot became a consistent top-ten winner - due to the fact it was a high-caliber show which featured talented popular regulars such as - Terri Garr, Freeman King, Peter Cullen, The Unknown Comic, Ted Zeigler, and Chastity Bono (the couple's tot).

By 1973, however, the tabloids were rife with stories of wild scream fests, missed gigs (including one subbed by Johnny Carson) and reports of Cher trying with a black eye. When the show finished eighth in the 73-74 season, Sonny filed for divorce - and on the heels of the decree - the final episode of the 'Sonny & Cher' was taped.

In the aftermath, CBS signed Cher to star in her own variety series.

Not to be outdone by his ex, Sonny proceeded to sign a deal with ABC for his own shot on the airwaves backed by the same producers, writing staff, and regular players from the previous weekly variety show.

In a jab at Cher, Sonny joked,

"We'll have all the same players," then clucked, "We'll be missing one, actually".

Sonny’s shot at the big-time was a dismal failure, mostly due to the fact Cher - the cog that kept the wheels spinning - was out of the picture and unable to bolster his morale and the ratings. In sum, the writing was uneven and the guest stars were run-of-the-mill. In short order, Sonny's solo stretch limped into the sunset.

In contrast, the Cher show debuted on Sunday February 16, 1975 with popular guest-stars (and close buds)Elton John, Bette Midler and Flip Wilson.

"I'm scared to death,” Cher said at the time about her own humble offering.

"I'm so afraid of that first walk-out. Here I am alone, naked to the world (huh?). What do you think world? Do you forgive me?"

The series was produced by a long-time writer for "Laugh-In" - George Schlatter - and always started with Cher draped in a dark cape crooning inaudibly at a lone piano in a lackluster start-up.

Then, without warning, Cher suddenly threw off  the veil - and as the music thumped up tempo - the little whirlwind proceeded to strut onto the front of the stage revealing her latest navel-exposing Mackie gem.

The first-nighter was thrilling, but the show quickly slumped in the weeks that followed as the shtick failed to stick. At this juncture, Cher opted to go back to "square one” and team up with Sonny for a follow-up show.

But new problems surfaced in her life.

A quickie marriage to Greg Allman turned into a nightmarish fiasco.

What was the lady to do, with a bundle of joy on the way?

In view of the unusual events unfolding, the CBS censors were inclined to look closer at the new spot which was now slotted into the "family hour". With that foremost in their mind, the network complained to the star that her clothes and image were not appropriate for a recent divorcee.

"Suddenly I should start coming off like Julie Andrews?" Cher asked incredulously.

Over the next few weeks, the show's ratings fell steadily, as did the quality of the writing.

"Sonny and Cher" hovered near the bottom of the ratings for most of the second year before limping off the air without so much as a bang. In fact, Sonny and Cher were now a total write-off to the Network, and canceled for good after hosting four different variety series between them in just six years.

Amen!

But, Cher hung in there!

One night I was at the Backlot in West Hollywood a number of years ago when she arrived with Elton John in tow. The idea is laughable now, but back then, the gossip-mongers wagged their tongues about a potential sizzlin' hot affair between the dynamic pop twosome. Well, maybe the clothes-horses talked about frocks and wigs into the wee hours of dawn.

Not much else was goin' down, I betcha.

Like the energizer rabbit, Cher has gone on and on and on.

There have been so many "final curtains under her belt", I can't count!

Her return to the Colosseum on Saturday should be a hoot.

Bob Mackie designed all her outfits, so that's worth the price of admission, 'fer sure!
Prior to the start-up of  her last gig at Caesar's a few months ago, it was revealed that Cher had a novelty "john" installed in her high-end dressing room.

Imagine that, a potty that actually opens its lid automatically and blows up a waft of fresh air into the nether - um - regions.

I've heard of bl**-jobs, but this is taking it to the max, don't 'ya think?

Did you know that Cher used to practice signing her signature for hours on end when she was a pimply-faced teenager because she knew she would be famous one day.
Amazing confidence, when you consider her humble beginnings.

Born in El Centro in California in 1946, Cher was a sad fatherless child. And, her mother was an eight-times-married failed show-biz performer who struggled by on occasional singing gigs and brief movie roles.

According to biographers, Cher delightfully watched her mother’s nervy career pursuits from the sidelines and pined to be in the spotlight, as well.

For personal reasons, the starry-eyed youth ended up dropping out to take acting lessons in Tinsel town.

She stumbled along her new path without a lot of to-do until she met an intriguing man - Sonny - who would change her life at the age of seventeen.

The moment was a turning point for the shy teen.

Cher met her future husband at Aldo's Coffee Shop, the place where celebrities used to hang out. Since Cher was basically a nobody with fantasies about pop stardom - Sonny, a bit of a celebrity at the time - swept her off her feet.

In fact, shortly after their first encounter, Cher became attached to the homely - but engaging character - and moved in with him. In those early days, they both swore up-and-down that their relationship was platonic. In spite of the fact they shared an apartment, Cher alleged they slept in separate beds. (!)

Cher's mother tried to separate them, but to no avail.

Curiously, one day out-of-the-blue, they did an about-face and professed their love for each other!

In spite of their long drawn-out break-up years later, Cher noted in one biography - "The First Time" - that Bono was the ultimate love of her life and that the two remained amicable despite their personal differences and subsequent hardships.

Cher confessed in one intimate moment,

"What you saw on TV with Sonny and Cher was a good representation of our personal life, always laughing and having fun".

Perhaps the solid footing between the two is the reason why Sonny and Cher hit gold with their single - "I've got you Babe" - when it first hit the charts.

For some inexplicable reason, the song - and the curious couple - resonated in the hearts of teenagers and parents alike, around the nation in those innocent days.

"The Beat goes on" and "Baby Don't Go" followed, boosting their image in the industry somewhat, too.

Sonny's off-beat attire and Cher's far-out fashion schematics - featuring festive blousy pants that hugged the hip, skimpy tops, shaggy hair and fur vests - appealed greatly to the hipsters and fans who wanted to emulate them.

Life turned in a different direction after their daughter Chastity was born in 1969, though.

The intense spotlight caused problems; consequently, the home life of the winsome threesome became hectic and unstable.

On stage Cher was calm, but she noted to the press that - "backstage was turbulent" - and that she felt trapped.

Cher stated in her biography,

"The only way I could continue life happily was to split with Sonny and bring our show to a premature end." She continued, "This devastated our fans, as well as CBS executives, but it had to be done, I was simply, unhappy with my life."

In the end, stardom pulled Cher's marriage down; but, the media attention on Cher propelled her into the super stratosphere as she dated new beaus. Usually, quite young!

The brief marriage to Allman ended up in divorce due to the musician's addictions to booze and heroin.

When that sad scenario ended, it appeared that at 33 - the unemployed single mother was all washed-up - career-wise.

But then, as if by a miracle, Cher was cast in a movie called 'Silkwood', opposite film great Meryl Streep.

Cher recalls poignantly,


"I will never forget the time Silkwood premiered in New York. As soon as my name was mentioned, the audience laughed. I felt bad, but you can't argue with these things, it's just a natural organic response from the audience."

However, Cher had the last laugh when she was nominated for an Oscar!

In fact, by 1987, Cher was in such demand that she found herself in three important feature films at once, "The Witches of Eastwick", "Suspect" and "Moonstruck".


At 41, after twenty-five years in show biz, Cher was on top again.

To her surprise, she sauntered back into the music arena in a stupendous way with a surprise hit - "If I could turn back time" - in which she flaunted her sexy appeal - in an enticing risqué outfit as she wantonly pranced around on a ship full of young soldiers.

The result?

She garnered a big buzz in headlines around the globe, once again.

In the nineties, Cher re-invented her music persona, in fact.

But, as she was riding the crest of a wave of success, tragic news struck.

Sonny was killed in a skiing accident.

"I was in London in January 1998 when I heard the dreaded news. Chastity rang me and brought the news of Sonny's death. I dropped everything and fled to Heathrow Airport and the media watched my every move. Even though we'd been apart for 24 years I couldn't ignore the fact I spent a quarter of my life with this guy."

Full of remorse during her reconciliatory eulogy at his funeral, Cher praised the man who had been father, partner, friend, and foe - displaying a side of herself the world had never seen. Though hurt by endless criticism that her appearance at the funeral was an attention-seeking devise (they didn’t look like crocodile tears to me) Cher continued to mourn openly and pay tribute to Bono in a sentimental CBS documentary.


By March 1999 - looking as glamorous as ever - Cher was ruling the Top 40 charts and holding the number one spot four consecutive weeks with her new title song, "Believe".

How to define Cher?

Well - she's a survivor - first and foremost. Then, a pop singer, TV Star, Academy Award-Winning Actress, Disco Diva, home decorator, fleeting expletive tosser at Awards Shows, and a fashion icon.

Although Cher's been written off countless times in the past, she just springs back and conquers anew each year, each decade.

For an original ugly duckling, you've come a long way, Babe!

Now, for more glorious moments in the sun in Las Vegas.

See 'ya there!



Thursday, September 17, 2009

Wayne Newton...return resident engagement in Vegas! Fans overjoyed...


Happier Days @ the Flamingo!




The scuttlebutt around the strip at the crack of dawn?

Wayne Newton has agreed to sign on as a resident "long-term" stage performer at the Tropicana Hotel.

According to the rumors, along with a spanking-new contract, there will be a Wayne Newton "make-over" in the wings, too.

Gosh, I recall the days when Wayne appeared all fresh-faced (and innocent) on the Ed Sullivan show - softly blushing and gloriously belting out - Danke Schoen - with precise distinctive phrasing.

So, what's next?

Expect a "theatrical extravaganza", according to his handlers and insiders at the glitzy Tropicana.

Critics like Mike Weatherford, at the Las Vegas Review Journal, read beteen the notes and hazard a guess that this is a sure sign that Mr. Newton's pipes have bitten the proverbial dust.

Do rust & diamonds sell?

Inquiring minds want to know.

News at 11!


A really big shoo!

Falun Gong...Art Exhibit (Truthfulness/Compassion/Tolerance) @ Clark County Library District...





Well, if there there was a need for truthfulness, compassion and tolerance, it was over the past week when misunderstandings clouded (and complicated) issues, the tempers of Americans raged, and - quite frankly - man's inhumanity to man soared to new levels around the country in a host of forums.

Today, I stumbled across an Art exhibit at the Clark County Library (@ Flamingo & Maryland Parkway) which was creatively (and spiritually) inspired by the ancient traditional Chinese mind/body practice that seeks to cultivate one's heart and mind through study of universal practices based on Truthfulness, Compassion, and Tolerance.

The two-dozen or so paintings on display are not only beautifully executed, but have a calming effect when contemplated quiety in a meditative state.

In some cases, a handful of the canvasses trigger deeper emotions, because they focus on violent images of soldiers in China, punishing those who practice the tradition long-rooted in the Chinese culture.

According to a pamphlet handed out at the gallery, Falun Gong is not in accord with the communist ideology.

For this reason, the Chinese government has been arresting practioners in a concerted effort to curb the spiritual practice - with the ultimate aim - of snuffing out the spiritual practice.

In the process, many have been beaten, tortured, even killed.

According to informed sources, 2,300 have died from torture, 200,000 have been sent to Labor camps without trial, and 1,000 have been abused in Mental hospitals.

"We are calling on the Chinese Government to stop mass arrests, arbitrary detentions, torture, unfair trails, and other human rights violations resulting from its official campaign against Falun Gong."

Amnesty International

How You can Help

*Call on your Congresspeson to take action
*Appeal to the Chinese Embassy or Consulate
*Write President  Barack Obama


 

Las Vegas...Omelet House a dining disaster (Plaza Hotel)! Cold tasteless food! Incompetent Staff! Bad service!


There wasn't any cream for the coffee, the waiter was a dishevelled loser, and the food was stone cold and tasteless.

Yup!

Instead of sauntering into the Omelet House at the Plaza Hotel, I should have strolled over to McDonald's for a tasty sausage biscuit and a mouth-watering McCafe Moca java.

Or, in the alternative, at least high-tailed it over to ever-popular Dunkin' Doughnuts.

Maybe then - as Jagger would say - I would have gotten some satisfaction (digestive at least)

I obviously fell prey to the ubiquitous signs plastered all over the Freemont Strip in Las Vegas which touted the breakfast offerings at the Omelet House (Plaza Hotel) as something "extra-special".

The truth of the matter?

Breakfast at the off-kilter screwball "Omelet House" was a total wash-out (a cuisine diaster).

From the get-go,  it was obvious things were amiss when I first sashayed into the foyer of the eatery (at the Plaza Hotel) which appeared to be frequented mostly by tourists (or the occasional gambler) in town for a day or two without any ties to the local community.

For starters, there was a haphazard line that snaked halfway out the door, that didn't appear to be getting any shorter in spite of the long wait.

Talk about a lack of organization!

After waiting for about five minutes, a waitress with all the personality of a cold fish, approached me with a menu in hand.

After giving me a sidewise glance, the little Asian spitfire motioned for me to follow her to a table, where she sniffed that a waiter would be with me shortly.

Fat chance!

I should have bet on those odds, eh?

About five or six minutes later a befuddled-looking male waiter dashed up slightly out-of-breath to determine if  I was interested in a cup of coffee or tea.

After nodding in the affirmative, I opened up the menu and perused it for a moment or two.

When the dough-boy returned with the java, I noticed there wasn't any cream in hand, in spite of the fact the staff neglected to stock each two-seater table in advance of the morning rush.

In response to my request for some "moo" juice, he promised to return with it in a flash.


When a few minutes passed, and he was a no-show, I got up from my seat and strode over to the counter (near the kitchen) and asked a couple of the waitresses if they could oblige me.

They stared at me dumbfounded for a second, then proceeded to ignore me!

A male waiter from another busy section of the restaurant gazing on piped up.

"Creamers are on the table."

"Not on mine," I responded without batting-an-eye.

My original waiter returned, overheard the conversation, and promised to deliver up the coveted cream.

A few minutes later, he stormed into the room with a cardboard box, he was busy trying to pry the top off of.

When he managed to flip open one flap, a dozen or so creamers flew out of the box every which way, but none my direction (go figure!).

He scooped up a couple, dropped them on my table, then asked if he could take my order for breakfast.

As this juncture, I thought it wise to order something simple (and easy) to prepare.

Scrambled eggs, wheat toast, and bacon should be a snap to rustle up, eh?

After I placed the order, I began to busy myself with a bit of paperwork that I needed to catch up on.

When the food did not arrive in about ten minutes, though, I got a bit antsy.

How long does it take to scramble an egg or butter two slices of toast?

When I peered around the room, I couldn't help but notice that a few tourists - who obviously did not speak English - were facilitating hand gestures (!)  to get the attention of the on-duty staff.

At this point, a couple of frustrated patrons actually pointed to photographs on the menu to underscore the breakfast orders they were waiting on, but to no avail.

The waiter or waitress - whichever the case might be - would simply nod in the affirmative and dash off exasperated.

I finally motioned to my own waiter - when I caught sight of him - to come over to my table.

From across the room he hollered:

"Yes. One oment, Sir."

True to his word, he did stride over alright, with my bill in his hand!

"I haven't been served my breakfast," I lamented in a slightly annoyed tone of voice.

"You haven't?"  he asked increduously.

So, he turned on his worn-down heels, and hurried off to ask the Chef to conjure up something fast, I expect.

When he returned a few minutes later, and slapped the plate down on the table, I quickly sampled a few morsels right away.

Stone cold!

How long had this food been sitting in the kitchen?

It certainly wasn't cooked "fresh" within the past few moments (not even tossed in a microwave!).

I stood, informed the waiter the food was cold, and stormed out.

Yup!

My stomach growled!

I was so upset, I could have wrung that waiter's neck for spoiling my morning, for starters.

Then, I recalled a memorable quote from George Kaufman.

"Epitaph for a dead waiter - God finally caught his eye.”

Yup.

He'll get his just desserts one fine day.

Amen!


Kid Cudi...Official Record Release Party @ Tao in Vegas! September 19th...



On Saturday, Kid Cudi will launch an official release party at TAO in Las Vegas for his new record:

"Man on the Moon: The End of Day"

Kid Cudi has surged ahead in recent months - and, some say - roared right past one of his main contemporaries (and  mentor) Kanye West.

Yes, Kanye's persona is in the dumper this week (could it have been the fault of Satan?), but the reason for the quick musical turn-about for Kudi is obviously due to the artist's awesome creative output.

Actually, Kid Cudi was featured on Kanye West's 2008 album.

The multi-talented charismatic Kid sang alongside West on the track "Welcome to Heartbreak", for instance.

Kanye &udi also shared songwriting credits for the two scintillating singles"Heartless" & "Paranoid".

"Welcome to Heartbreak" hit the Pop 100 charts at No. 87 faster than a bullet!

Cudi's first television appearance was at the 2008 MTV Video Music Awards.

There have been well-documented appearances on Snoop Dogg's MTV talk show, Spring Break specials, and the night-time talk-show hit - "Last Call" - hosted by Carson Daily.

Maximum exposure?

You bet!

Catch him at TAO on the 19th before he streaks into the musical stratosphere out-of-reach!




Barack Obama...Jacka** remark lowers Prez to level of common Joe!

Ooops!
I don't bray!

When I overheard the news flash in my travels about the city the other day, I laughed out loud.

Another controversy raged in  a week that (at a minimum) had been rife with bad behaviour from white and black trailer-trash alike.

Maybe the alignment of the planets was all screwed up.

Or, the soaring heat was making folks testy.

According to a tweet that zapped at lightning speed around the internet (and beyond into the frenzied mainstream media realms)  Barack Obama allegedly jumped into the Kanye West fray - and in an off-the-cuff moment - hissed to a few within earshot (off-camera) that the musician was (quite simply) a Jacka**.

How refreshing!

To a handful who once belly-ached that Obama was "uppity" - and occasionally was prone to act "Holier than thou" - it was a Godsend, really.

In sum, the Prez was no different than any common "Joe" prone to dish at whim when the occasion arose.

Personally, it was the word  Jacka** that titillated me.

In choosing that "label", Obama demonstrated a little imagination, in my estimation.

When you call a person an "a**hole", for instance, it simply conjures of a glaring demeaning image of all that is negative about sentient beings (and the inconsiderate and/or inappropriate selfish actions of an individual that often lead them astray from humanity).

For many, the label smarts.

Jacka**, on the other hand, is a much bigger rub.

Stings more, dudes!

After all, the "tag" gets to the very core of the personality - and in the final analysis - makes a broader, deeper, more insightful statement about the individual in a lasting humorous way.

The dictionary definition defines it best:

jackass

    noun
1. a male donkey.
2. a contemptibly foolish or stupid person; dolt; blockhead; ass

Barack hit the nail on the head, in a nutshell!

But, the controversy goes beyond the alleged name-calling.

Apparently, when the President uttered the off-the-cuff slight, he was off-camera in-between-takes.

But, worse than that, informed sources verified later that the powers-that-be at the Network in question agreed to respect the President's wishes that the remark remain "off-the-record".

Unfortunately, another overzealous Jacka**  (they're running rampant around the political landscape these days) seized the golden opportunity to tweet his way to fame before the strong arm of his employer was able to silence him.

Uh-huh!

Within hours, the President's comment was zig-zagging around the country - and overseas, too - causing a heapload of mayhem in its wake.

Part of the blame rests with the President, in my estimation.

Obviously, he's a bit balmy if he thought his wishes would be respected, in this tattle-tale back-stabbing media-befuddled age.

As to the press, well, they blew it too.

Now that the President's trust has been broken, it is doubtful they'll ever be welcomed into the inner sanctum again.

Doris Duke's father said it best when he cautioned her on his deathbed:

"Trust no one."

And not even your instinct, on occasion, Barack!



Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Glee...Josh Groban guests tonight on Fox hit!



Tonight (Wednesday) crooner Josh Groban will appear on Fox TV's teen hit - "Glee".

In this week's episode, the Glee Club springs for a popular choreographer to help coach them to the Nationals after one of  the lead characters - Will - starts wiling away his leisure time with the Acafellas (an all-male acapella group he has formed.

I expect Josh will be one of the vocalists in the band, eh?

"Glee" gave Fox a shot in the arm in recent weeks when the off-beat offering not only managed to rustle up 7.3 million viewers, but also won a respectable time slot among adults in the age range of 18 to 48.

Some critics describe the show as a cross between the popular hit "High School Musical" and "Freaks and Geeks" in that regard.

Fox is gambling on this charming little venture to be a break-a-way hit this season.

I'm rooting for 'em!



Phantom of the Opera...Vegas 5-day festival! Hal Prince to attend...



"Phans" will be descending on the Vegas strip tonight as a 5-day tribute to the long-running hit musical - "Phantom of the Opera" - kicks off!

The thrilling celebration includes a Masquerade Ball at the Venetian at St. Mark's Square.

According to die-hard stage-musical-lovers, a "phan" is one who has attended the "Phantom" dozens - maybe hundreds - of times and is totally obssessed with all the scintillating dramatic details of the ill-fated love story.

During the course of the five-day theatrical adventure - every morning and afternoon of each day, in fact - participants will indulge in myriad aspects of the musical - from the artistry of the makeup,  to one-on-one meetings with the cast, and actual tours of the theatre and "chandelier".

At the close of every magical day, there will be a performance of  "Phantom of the Opera", too.

Honorary guest - Hal Prince (director/Producer) - will address fans at the opening ceremonies, too.

Sounds phantastic, doesn't it?

Info:  www.PhantomLasVegas.com






Michael Phelps...Baltimore Bullet beats Superman! ABC censors athlete's "business" for family hour...





As I was waltzing out the door of my Hotel room, I suddenly heard an ABC TV announcer urge viewers to stay tuned for a much-anticipated swim competition between Olympic Gold Medalist Michael Phelps and court Pro Shaq O'Neal.

OMG!

It slipped my mind.

I turned on my heel, kicked off my shoes, cracked open a brewski, and waited with bated breath for the  "games" to begin.

In the opening teaser, ABC broadcast an interview with the two unlikely challengers, which was taped last week.

Phelps, sporting a full beard and (tame) moustache (and attired in a smart-suit ensemble) was surprisingly quick on the uptake.

In fact, when Shaq was inclined to go for the juglar - and make a show of it  (at Phelp's expense) - the swimmer adeptly put the huge hulk-of-a-man in his place pronto.

Good on you, Michael!

Then, there was a flash-forward to the festivities getting underway.

Prior to the actual racing match, Shaq was treated to a coaching session with Phelp's personal trainer, Bob Bowman.

Cut to the pool.

When Shaq first dove in, the splash was so bombastic, that I expect the displaced water required the pool be topped up.

I laughed out loud when ABC traced Shaq's by way of an underwater camera  - after all - the image was somewhat reminiscent of a blimp flopping forward upstream against a cruel relentless current.

After some pointers from the coach (for instance, advice on how to dip the head and affect a more effecient turn at the end of the lap) Shaq was put to the test.

His first attempt in a trial run (the coach recorded his time with a precision stop-watch for future reference) wasn't half-bad.

Did the likable lug want to take a second shot at it?

You bet!

"I never get tired," Shaq growled into the camera lens poolside.

And, judging from his scores, the power-house athlete was obviously prone to improving his water-sports-skills with practice!

Indeed!

In a few short stints, the "Man of Steel" shaved a minute or two off of his orginal record.

Meanwhile, Phelps spent part of his week with a group of children, who were delighted to meet the swim great!

At this juncture, things got curiouser and curiouser, though.

I was anxious to get a "look-see" at Michael's suitsuit so that I could report the "fashion" flash to my blog readers - who, for the most part - are Phelp's fans.

But, it was tough getting a gander at the Gold Medalist's bod below his slim muscled waist.

For example, on one occasion when the camera lens focused on Phelps in the pool with a dozen or so frolicking kids, his crotch was obscured by child-body-parts!

Another shot focused on Michael's "torso" (just for a second or two) as he kibitzed with the kids.

There were split-second "side-shots" and sly pans of  Michael amidst the "multitudes" -  but, darn it (!) - there wasn't any up-close (or clear-cut)  footage of  Michael in his skimpy speedo-style swimsuit.

Consequently, I was unable to discern the pattern, brand name, whether it fit snugly or not ('ya get my drift, eh?), and-so-forth and-so-on.

Golly, if  I didn't know better (!) I'd actually come to the conclusion that someone behind-the-scenes used a bit of judicious editing to ensure Michael's "business" wasn't hanging out during the family-hour on ABC TV.

A few seconds later, however, a segment featuring a blond blimbo newsie interviewing the Olympic stud, cracked me up.

When she turned to the camera to sign off, she was blushing, and clearly smitten by Phelps.

She was hot-to-trot alright. 

Just betcha, her bra and panties would have flown off her sexy bod with wild passionate abandon, had Michael made a subtle move in the locker room.

Speaking of  locker rooms.

At one point, as the two athletes were suiting up, it appeared that Shaq was trying to psyche Michael out.

To no avail.

Maybe it was because Michael was "playing"  his home town (Baltimore).

In sum, the "Bullet" was obviously keen to the fact that he had the advantage.

In the first competition, Shaq zoomed to the finish line first-place!

The crowd roared!

In a second race - in which Phelps faced a relay team consisting of  three Olympic female swimmers of some renown in the swim arena (in addition to Shaq) - it was too close for comfort.

No cigar for Shaq and his pussy dolls, though!

By the time the third race rolled around, Shaq decided to get down to business.

He dropped his drawers.

Lo & behold!

The "whale" was sporting a slinky skimpy suit sure to slice a fine swath through the crystal waters.

At this juncture, Shaq strutted, wiggled his a** for the fans, then hopped into the pool undaunted.

Now, it was down to the wire, mano-a-mano!

In the rivetting final swim heat, Phelps managed to squeak ahead and snatch the victory out from the iron jaw of  the "Man of Steel" by a sliver of a second.

The fans went wild.

In the final analysis, the ticket-holders got a lot of  bang for their buck.

So, what's next on the career agenda for Phelps?

A reality show, perhaps.

News at 11!



Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Andrea Bocelli...Vegas PBS offers VIP tickets for donations! MGM concert December 12th...




Last night, Vegas PBS aired a vastly entertaining outstanding live! special of an Andrea Bocelli concert filmed in Tuscany for posterity a few months ago.

But, there was a surprise treat, too.

In conjunction with their fundraiser efforts, PBS offered up 2 VIP tickets for Bocelli's upcoming December 12th concert in Las Vegas (@ MGM) for a paltry donation in the sum of $400.00.

As you can well imagine, within one hour,  all the prestigious Bocelli  seats were snapped up!

In addition, there were a few $500.00 packages, which included 2 VIP tickets (Gold Circle), a DVD set, and Bocelli memorabilia.

Check with PBS, there may be a handful of the precious collector keepsakes left.

The concert (though interrupted ad nauseam by volunteer staff in a bold-faced effort to raise funds for PBS)  was a stellar high-quality "outdoor" presentation.

During the course of the evening, Mr. Bocelli delighted fans with a far-reaching set of half-a-dozen-or so of  his best-known hits.

In addition, the "rock star" of the classical arena, introduced a couple of spanking-new compositions, unveiled for the first time to a live audience.

There were a number of surprise musical guests, as well.

For instance, ever-popular musician - Kenny G - played a few of the opening notes for one piece.

Unfortunately, that tune was a bit beyond Mr. Bocelli's range.

Actually, on occasion,  the celebrated crooner struggled through musical transitions that once were a breeze for him.

In some instances, musical arrangements were not suited to his unique voice, either.

The audience looked the other way, nonetheless.

The camera-work just about drove me to distraction, though.

The erratic lens was inclined to pan wide, flow in, zoom across a great vista sideways, then sweep out again.

I felt like I was viewing an Italian real estate commercial  for Tuscany!

At times, the production was also a bit over-the-top.

Bocelli made a dramatic entrance in a chic black tuxedo with scarf wrapped elegantly around his neck (with two handsome male escorts in tow).

At another serene moment during the performance, a posse of young  children wafted in gracefully with lit candles, causing my inerds to all mush-up inside.

I expect a few middle-aged housewives in the audience - munching on bon bons - were dabbing their eyes wiith perfumed lace hankerchiefs, too.

Truth of the matter is, Bocelli doesn't need the props or the gimmicks to buttress his remarkable talent.

The distractions only take away from the purity of his voice!




Las Vegas...TAO BEACH casting next face! Win $5,000 ladies...



TAO (@ the Venetian Hotel in Las Vegas) is seeking a fresh "face" to be featured on billboards and in advertisements for the launch of their new promotional campaign:

"FACE OF TAO BEACH 2010"

The audition will be held at an open bar for local ladies between 1 PM - 4 PM at TAO on September 18th.

All entrants must pose in a bathing suit for audition photos.

The winner receives a $5,000 prize and will be featured as the "Face" of  TAO BEACH (2010).

Contestants must be 21+
(proof of ID required)

Info:  WWW.TAOGROUPBLOG.COM


Patrick Swayze...succumbs to pancreatic cancer! Marriage of convenience?



Sadly, Patrick Swayze succumbed to pancreatic cancer yesterday at age 57.

For the past few months there was a swirl of gossip and innuendo surrounding Swayze on the heels of a tabloid feature that reported the charismatic star was on his  "death bed" and saying his last good-byes.

In fact, the scandalous heartless feature was the subject of much controversy.

I even jumped into the fray when I happened to turn on the TV one night and caught the tail end of a scurrilous report by Mary Hart on Entertainment tonight.

Frankly, I was so flabbergasted by her lack of sensitivity (and bad taste) that I penned a post on the issue.

Post:  03/12/09

http://ijulian.blogspot.com/2009/03/mary-hartpatrick-swayze-coverage-on.html

Shortly after that, Patrick Swayze sat down with Barbara Walters for an intimate one-on-one interview to set the record straight.

When asked point blank if  he was gettting his affairs in order and preparing for death, Swayze was quite adamant that he was not doing anything of the sort.

Then, he proceeded to lambaste the tabloid press.

In so many words, he labelled their reprehensible "ambulance-chasing" as little more than a ghoulish graveside vigil inflicting mental and emotional cruelty in its wake.

In particular, the star of blockbuster hits such as "Ghost" stressed how hurtful the insensitive conduct was to his immediate family and friends.

Swayze was first diagnosed with the pancreatic cancer in 2008 and from the offset tried to keep his illness under wraps - with the ultimate aim - of facing the life-threatening cancer privately and with a modicum of dignity.

The multi-talented star was a classically-trained dancer.

In spite of that, the talented actor with the infectious smile, managed to shake off  those shackles.

For example, when he burst onto the silver screen in "Dirty Dancing", he introduced a machismo to the realm of dance that no other triple-threat in the industry had managed to accomplish 'til then (or to this day).

The passionate horse-breeder was no slouch when it came to the work ethic, either.

By his own admission, Swayze was also inclined to take risks, too.

There was a lot of integrity lurking behind those engaging dimples!

Although he was offered approximately $7 million bucks to appear in a sequel to "Dirty Dancing", he graciously passed.

Instead, he gussied himself up and sashayed across the screen in full drag in the off-beat comedy:

"To Wong Foo, thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar"

Personally, I found Patrick's portrayal of a "Queen" more entertaining (and believable) that Travolta's offering in "Hairspray".

Understandably, after the film opened, tongues started to wag.

Was Patrick gay - or at least - bisexual?

If so, it was doubtful - for career reasons - that he would ever have "outed" himself.

After all, during the filmmaking era Swayze broke into the Hollywood scene, producers tended to shy away from casting "gay" men when it came to "macho" leading-man roles.

A few years ago, I met a pretty young male actor who claimed to have "dirty danced" with Patrick between the sheets.

Rumors also floated around Hollywood that both he - and his lovely wife - were "gay" and that theirs was a marriage of convenience.

Albeit, one based on a great deal of honesty, mutual respect, and friendship.

It just may have been one of the best-kept secrets in Tinsel Town, eh?

News at 11!


Monday, September 14, 2009

Las Vegas...Sahara fails to disclose fees! Bad Buffet Beef! Security detail taunts guests...

 
Some guests at the Sahara this week were grumbling about the fact the Sahara failed to disclose fees when they enticed 'em to book a suite at the Hotel & Casino on the Las Vegas strip with promises of  low rates Sunday night through Thursday (and free slot play!)

When clueless tourists dialed up the Sahara to reserve a suite - employees at Sahara conveniently "forgot" to inform them about a "resort fee" ($6.00 daily) until they checked in later at the front desk on the scheduled date of arrival.

If a guest complained, staff simply shrugged their shoulders, and moved on with the reservation process.

Outrageous!

A couple of the Hotel front desk staff also played "dumb" when it came to the free slot play, too.

Shame on the Sahara was engaging in such deceptive business practices.

A handful of patrons on the Casino floor were also miffed (and somewhat parched) at the long waits for cocktails!

Sahara either cut-back on staff, or deliberately informed servers to slow-down the drink delivery, as a cost-effective measure, I guess.

Cheap basta**s!

Usually, when I trek to the desert oasis for a few days of much-needed R&R, I drop into the Sahara to take a free spin at the Player's Club desk.

Then, I usually saunter up to sup on the bargain buffet upstairs ($8.99 with a club card).

A couple of days ago, I strolled through the Casino, and queued up behind Club Players waiting to try their luck at the big spin.

Within minutes, I overheard a bit of whispering behind me.

"Do you know who that is?"

Just as I was about to half-turn to check out the alleged "star sighting", I suddenly heard the squawk of a walkie-talk, directly behind me.

Over my shoulder, I spied three security staff members standing at attention staring right at me in amazement!

Then, a guest whispered to a friend, in reference to me:

"He must be important."

I stepped up to the clerk at the desk, at which point, she non-chalantly asked if she could be of assistance.

Judging from the way the perky young gal was acting, I was inclined to imagine she didn't know me from "Adam".

Wrong!

Shortly after the Player's Club employee registered me for the spin toss, and I began to trot over to try my luck, I overhead her excitedly ask her co-worker if she knew who I was.

When I turned to determine if I won, a posse of folks - hotel employees, guests, rounders, waitresses - were staring wide-eyed in my direction.

"Nothing tonight, Julian. Come back tomorrow," she cried out across the Casino floor.

At this juncture, I headed up to the Buffet room on the second floor, but was disappointed by the sorry sight!

The normally-friendly cashiers who check in paying guests (no tabulating the bill after-the-fact here, so they've got you by the short 'n curlies, really) were stone-faced and unfriendly to the customers.

And, the old policy of greeting patrons at the table when they first sauntered in, must have flown out the door, too.

The only occasion I spied a waitress cruising by a table was on the heels of their departure (to snatch up tips, if any, tossed on the table).

Yup!

The pickings were slim.

But, the buffet was the biggest disappointment of all.

The cook actually had the gall to to offer up a piece of  Prime Rib that was all grissled and rippled with nasty tasteless fat.

The rolls were stale. The coffee was cold.

And, instead of a tasty array of delicable desserts as usual, the buffet table was sparsely scattered with a few little scraps of sweets here and there.

Nothing to write home about to grannie about,  'fer sure!

Then, as I reflected on the "downward spiral" of the Sahara, I happened to notice a security guard on the casino floor striding right up to a gentleman as he was walking in a forward-direction in his path.

Did he slow down to allow the guest to pass?

No, with a sneer on is face, he continued on forward.

Just as it appeared the two would collide, the hapless patron accelerated a beat, and ended up out-of-harm's way (as the sneering security guard chuckled to himself wickedly).

Imagine that!

The sawed-off sleaze ball had nothing better to do but taunt hotel guests!

A few old publicity stills of Elvis and the Beatles hanging ceremoniously about the halls & walls of the old lady triggered memories of their once-glorious days. Just as the thought entered my mind, I overhead an operator announcing over the loudspeaker:

"Wayne Newton. Paging Mr. Wayne Newton. You have a phone call."

OMG!

If Wayne is hanging out at the Sahara, times must be tough, eh?

No wonder he's slyly negotiating a Vegas deal behind-the-scenes to return to the Vegas stage!

News at 11!


Barack Obama...mouthiest President? Talk the talk...

Hand gestures to punctuate salient points!

The other day when the controversy was swirling over the infamous "you lie" incident, I laughed in a post that for the first time - old diarrhea mouth, Barack Obama - was at a loss for words for once!

As I reflected on the issue, it suddenly dawned on me that - just maybe - Barack Obama has actually established himself as the most-talky (wordiest) President to have ever been installed into the White House.

Since his swearing-in-ceremony (which was rife with mispeaks and procedural errors if you recall) I just betcha - since I am a gamblin' man currently partying-heartily in Vegas - that the current Prez has given more public and private speeches than any other U.S. President in the history of the Nation.

Short of a word count, I dare say, Obama has also uttered-up the most desirable words in a particular vein - uppity, lame, humble, indignant, graceful, congratulatory - what-have-you!

Anyone care to take up the task of establishing that my bold-faced assertations are certifiably true?

George Eliot said it best:

"Blessed is the man, who having nothing to say, abstains from giving wordy evidence of the fact."

Amen!


Las Vegas...Vince Neil Ink par-tay a blast! Tattoos, Bodacious Babes, and Rock 'n Roll...



The kick-off party for Vince Neil's "Ink" at the Rio on Saturday night was quite a wild blow-out!

At a festive press party upstairs at the "Vince Neil Ink" boutique "tat & motorcycle" retail outlet on the Mezzanine level of the Rio, Vince (former frontman for Motley Crue) was all smiles as he glad-handed (and posed on a chopper at one point) the press and signed autographs for fans as a (stacked) bodacious bimbo babe catered to his every whim.

The "free concert" on the main floor of the Casino  a scant thirty-minutes later was packed - standing room only - as Vince strutted his stuff on a stage artfully-arranged with all-manner-of heavy-duty music equipment which (ultimately) sent fans into a frenzy once the scintillating hard-hitting beat of his band  rang out.

The crowd roared when a secret opening in one wall swung wide and a gondola - bubbling over with a bevy of beauties inside tossing "temporary tats" to the Hotel guests below who were close to sensory overload!

At one point, when Vince raised his arms to gesture to the enthusiastic throngs, I spied a slight paunch under his ubiquitious T-shirt.

Ah, too much of the good life, eh Vince?

I expect once he's on the road, he'll be able to trim down that baby-fat, pronto!

In contrast, the lead guitartist - thin as a rail - roared about the stage (long strands of lustrous hair flowing electrically behind him ) as he dazzled the rock 'n roll groupies with remarkable finger-work on his high-priced guitar.

Who said Rock 'n Roll was dead?

Motley Crue

Las Vegas...David Spade live! comedy show @ Venetian! September 18th...




Fans of David Slade are sure to be treated to a weekend of raucous wit when the in-your-face funnyman unveils his live! comedy show at the Venetian in Las Vegas end of the week.

September 18th thru September 20th.

David Spade was born in Birmingham Michigan (1964) and raised in Scottsdale & Casa Grande (Arizona) respectively.

The sometimes-troubled (drug-related issues) star was first spotted by a casting agent at "The Improv" in Los Angeles many moons ago.

On the heels of this auspicious moment, the Hollywood hopeful was signed to camp it up in the the 4th feature in the "Police Academy" franchise "Citizens on Partrol" (1987).

From there, the quirky performer sping-boarded to the big time when he became a regular cast member on the highly-rated (classic comedy skit-hit) "Saturday Night Live".

Undoubtedly, though, it was a handful of smarty-pants characters in a variety of sketches in the second season (in particular the portrayal of a highly disinterested airline steward who bids each passenger adieu with a very sardonic "buh-bye") that launched his career into the stratosphere.

There was no looking back for David after that!

Spade is also well-known for his right-on impersonations of noteworthy luminaries in the biz such as actor Michael J. Fox, and musicians Kurt Cobain and Tom Petty during his tenure.

Feature film pairings with the likes of Chris Farley in "Tommy Boy" turned out memorable performances, too.

Spade's ubiquitious talents have been touted by the industry as well.

He earned an Emmy nomination for his portrayal of off-beat skirt-chasing secretary by the name of "Dennis Finch" on "Just Shoot Me!" (1997).

Catch the gig in Vegas, eh?




Opulence of Venetian
 
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