Friday, September 29, 2006

Vegas II


haven't started official blogging yet as it turns out that i have accidentally come a day early.

it's now 5am and despite my best efforts to crack jet lag (staying up late and getting very very drunk) am wide awake.

yesterday was great. got to go to TWO HOT PARTIES. first one was literally hot - Joe Hachem (world champ)'s BBQ at a house in Rusty Branch Drive (just off Sleeping Tree Boulevard) which was several leagues away from the city centre and unknown to any cab driver in the city. (there are 3,000 cab drivers here so that gives you an idea of how very unknown this street is).

given that Joe Hachem is a multi-millionaire I knew this definitely wouldn't be one of those typical throw-a-prawn-on-the-barbie and grab-a-tinny things that Aussies are famous for. WRONG. this was exactly what it was - but lots of the guests were millionaires and some were film stars. also they were all poker players so there was - of course - a poker tournament. free to enter and the winner got a seat in the World Series (worth 10,000). i entered although Tamar warned me that even if i won, she wouldn't let me play. i outlasted Isabelle Mercier, but my pocket 3s (what is that in Hungarian?) were useless against JK.

back to the barbie. it was so hot that there was an air conditioning machine OUTSIDE spewing a fine mist of iced water on the guests. unfortunately, it was spewing so much fine mist that eventually it had turned a large part of the lawn into a Glastonbury-style swamp. when it got dark, some of the smaller guests sank without trace. marcel luske was there looking ever so slightly out of place in pin stripe and tie. Dave Devilfish Ulliot was there too (grunted hello in a kind of snarl - he will never forgive me for ruining his chance with Pip - well, that's how he sees it!)

After several hours of waiting for people to strip and swim in the pool (they didn't), we left - or rather we tried to leave but of course Rusty Branch Drive was unknown to any of Vegas' 3000 cab drivers so quite a long wait. A very grungy but completely gorgeous guy who looked like he'd spent the afternoon crossing the desert on a Harley was waiting with us. Could he share our cab, he asked. absolutely, we said (all girls). unfortunately two cabs turned up and he went in the other one. It was Woody Harrelson.

After dinner at Bellagio (in some wierd kind of Japanese restaurant where you have your own chef standing in front of you pelting you with shrimps) we went to the second hot party, hosted by Full Tilt in a very cool disco at Caesar's Palace. Lots of famous players. The entertainment was the Pussycat Dolls or a band saying they were the Pussycat Dolls. Who knows?

I declared my undying love to Mike Matusow (the guy who got a 40-minute ban for swearing last year) and he returned it (while looking over my shoulder to see if there was someone younger/sexier he could pull). Actually what I said to him was: "Mike, I worship the ground you walk on. You are an animal. You are Neanderthal. Totally unreconstructed. I loved it when you said women can't play poker." He seemed pleased.

Talking of animals, a chimp has been entered into the tournament. It knows how to fold, check and raise but apparently gets bored after a couple of hands and starts throwing its chips around and demanding bananas. I am not kidding.