They all look alike anyhow...

Went to Vegas last weekend. Nope, it wasn't quite as eventful as my last trip to Sin City. In fact, it was rather pleasant not to lose my sunglasses in a toilet while vomiting and then be tasked with retrieving tons of rib bones from the Golden Nugget hallway at 4 am. It may have been more tame because I was there with my new beau, we were there with other people not so enthusiastic about abusing their livers as MM and RMA, and we had to attend a wedding.

We stayed on the strip at New York, New York - a lovely establishment that really is a city unto itself. If you go to Vegas and are near the strip I highly recommend going on the Manhattan Express Roller Coaster at NY, NY. It is way cool, complete with corkscrew, loop, and huge drop. What I do not recommend is eating at the Chinese restaurant in NY, NY. Here's a picture of the restaurant:
It's not that the food is bad, it's that the translation is bad and I about died laughing when I saw the sign. The reason? "Chin chin", while a toast in Chinese, means penis in Japanese. If you don't believe me, check out this definition.

I love when that sort of thing happens. I wonder if the NY, NY folks know they have a penis restaurant in their casino. Good thing it's across the way from a hot dog stand...

Also of note on the trip was our late night cab ride home from the Orleans casino on Saturday. Q and I were fortunate enough to land the most racist cab driver in Vegas: Las Vegas Lou. Upon entering the cab, the shaking octagenarian told us "If I don't make you laugh, you pay half." He then proceeded to tell us approximately 14 jokes explaining the difference between various races/religions and African Americans (although he used a less PC word). Q and I were extremely shocked and didn't know what to do. Still, one of the jokes stayed in my mind because I really hadn't heard anyone tell a joke about Samoans before. I'll tell the joke using hashers as a less-than-desirable race:

What do you get when you cross a Samoan and a hasher?
Samoa hashers. (pronounced "Some more hashers").

Yes, it was bad. Note to travelers to Vegas: Do not eat at the penis restaurant and do not enter a cab with an old guy named Lou.

I said a hip hop, a hippity hop...

I am not ashamed to admit there was a time when I would don my hot pink parachute pants with black zippers, braid my tail, lay out some cardboard in the living room, have my mulleted friend push play on the boom box, and attempt to breakdance. During this time I thought I was cool. I would "pop" and "break" and call people out on the dance floor for dance-offs the likes of which Dance Revolution could never fathom. Come on, you know you remember Breakin' and Breakin' 2 - Electric Boogaloo. Those were the days.

What spurred that 80's movement of bad acrobatics, head spins, and spastic gyrations was a little ditty called The Rapper's Delight by the Sugarhill Gang - three guys from New York who sang of the hippity hop, Lincoln Continentals, freaking you here and there, scooby doo, Imp the Dimp (the ladies pimp), Superman's tights, keepin' on rockin' to the beat, Perry Mason, and, my personal favorite, the need for late night Kaopectate. How could they not go platinum with lyrics like those and a following of little white children dressed like Michael Jackson spinning on cardboard to their cassette tapes?

Flash forward 23 years to karaoke night at Domingo's Mexican Restaurant in Tehachapi wherein your friend and previous breakdancing fool, Glib Gal, decided it would be a good idea to sing Rapper's Delight to a crowd of Kern County cowboys after a margarita-induced flashback to her 80's days as an aspiring professional breakdancer. For those of you who might have forgotten the original rap song, or it's great length and lack of a refrain, imagine a 34-year old woman of Irish descent attempting to sing these words at warp speed:

(Wonder Mike)
I said a hip, a hop, the hippie, the hippie
To the hip hip hop, a you dont stop
The rock it to the bang bang boogie say up jumped the boogie
To the rhythm of the boogie, the beat
Now what you hear is not a test - I'm rappin to the beat
And me, the groove, and my friends are gonna try to move your feet
Ya see: I am Wonder Mike and I like to say hello
To the black, to the white, the red, and the brown, the purple and yellow
But first I gotta bang bang the boogie to the boogie
Say up jump the boogie to the bang bang boogie
Let's rock, you don't stop
Rock the rhythm that will make your body rock
Well, so far you've heard my voice but I brought two friends along
And next on the mike is my man Hank:
Come on, Hank, sing that song

(Performed by Big Bank Hank but written by Grandmaster Caz)
Check it out, I'm the C-A-S, an' the O-V-A
And the rest is F-L-Y
Ya see: I go by the code of the doctor of the mix
And these reasons I'll tell ya why
Ya see: I'm six foot one and I'm tons of fun
And I dress to a T
Ya see: I got more clothes than Muhammad Ali and I dress so viciously
I got bodyguards, I got two big cars
That definitely ain't the wack
I got a Lincoln Continental and a sunroof Cadillac
So after school, I take a dip in the pool
Which is really on the wall
I got a color TV, so I can see
The Knicks play basketball
Hear me talkin bout checkbooks, credit cards
More money than a sucker could ever spend
But I wouldn't give a sucker or a bum from the rucker
Not a dime til I made it again
Ya go: Hotel, Motel, whatcha gonna do today? (say what?)
Ya say: I'm gonna get a fly girl, gonna get some spankin,
Drive off in a def O.J.
Everybody go: Hotel, Motel, Holiday Inn
Say: If your girl starts acting up, then you take her friend
Master Gee, am I mellow?
It's on you so what you gonna do?

(Master Gee)
Well it's on n on n on on n on
The beat don't stop until the break of dawn
I said M-A-S, T-E-R, a G with a double E
I said I go by the unforgettable name
Of the man they call the Master Gee
Well, my name is known all over the world
By all the foxy ladies and the pretty girls
I'm goin down in history
As the baddest rapper there ever could be
Now I'm feelin the highs and ya feelin the lows
The beat starts gettin into your toes
Ya start poppin ya fingers and stompin your feet
And movin' your body while you're sittin in your seat
And then: Damn! Ya start doin the freak
I said: Damn! Right outta your seat
Then ya throw your hands high in the air
Ya rockin to the rhythm, shake your derriere
Ya rockin to the beat without a care
With the sureshot MC:s for the affair
Now, I'm not as tall as the rest of the gang
But I rap to the beat just the same
I got a little face and a pair of brown eyes
All I'm here to do ladies is hypnotize
Singin on n n on n on n on
The beat don't stop until the break of dawn
Singin on n n on n on on n on
Like a hot buttered a pop da pop da pop dibbie dibbie
Pop da pop pop ya don't dare stop,
Come alive y'all - gimme what ya got
I guess by now you can take a hunch
And find that i am the baby of the bunch
But that's okay - I still keep in stride
Cause all I'm here to do is just wiggle your behind
Singin on n n on n on n on
The beat don't stop until the break of dawn
Singin on n n on n on on n on
Rock rock y'all, throw it on the floor
I'm gonna freak ya here, I'm gonna freak ya there
I'm gonna move you outta this atmosphere
Cause I'm one of a kind and I'll shock your mind
I'll put tic-tic-tickets in your behind
I said 1-2-3-4, come on girls get on the floor
A-come alive y'all, a-gimme what ya got
Cause I'm guaranteed to make you rock
I said 1-2-3-4 tell me Wonder Mike what are you waitin for?

(Wonder Mike)
I said a hip hop, the hippie to the hippie
The hip hip hop, a you dont stop
The rock it to the bang bang boogie say up jumped the boogie
To the rhythm of the boogie, the beat
Skidelee beebop a we rock a scooby doo
And guess what America: we love you!
Cause ya rock and ya roll with so much soul,
You could rock till you're a hundred and one years old
I don't mean to brag, I don't mean to boast
But we like hot butter on our breakfast toast
Rock it up, baby bubbah
Baby bubbah to the boogie da bang bang da boogie
To the beat beat, it's so unique
Come on everybody and dance to the beat
I said a hip hop the hippie the hippie
To the hip hip hop, a you dont stop
Rock it out baby bubbah to the boogie da bang bang
The boogie to the boogie da beat
I said I can't wait til the end of the week
When I'm rappin to the rhythm of a groovy beat
And attempt to raise your body heat
Just blow your mind so that you can't speak
And do a thing but a rock and shuffle your feet
And let it change up to a dance called the freak
And when ya finally do come in to your rhythmic beat
Rest a little while so ya dont get weak
I know a man named Hank
He has more rhymes than a serious bank
So come on Hank, sing that song
To the rhythm of the boogie da bang bang da bong

(Performed by Big Bank Hank but Written by Grandmaster Caz)
Well, I'm Imp the Dimp, the ladies pimp
The women fight for my delight
But I'm the grandmaster with the three MC:s
That shock the house for the young ladies
And when you come inside, into the front
You do the freak, spank, and do the bump
And when the sucker MC:s try to prove a point
We're a treacherous trio, we're the serious joint
From sun to sun and from day to day
I sit down and write a brand new rhyme
Because they say that miracles never cease
I've created a devastating masterpiece
I'm gonna rock the mike til you can't resist
Everybody! I say it goes like this:
Well I was comin home late one dark afternoon
Reporter stopped me for a interview
She said she's heard stories and she's heard fables
That I'm vicious on the mike and the turntables
This young reporter I did adore
So I rocked a vicious rhyme like i never did before
She said "Damn, fly guy! I'm in love with you!
The Casanova legend must have been true!"
I said "By the way baby, what's your name?"
She said "I go by the name of Lois Lane,
And you could be my boyfiend, you surely can
Just let me quit my boyfriend called Superman"
I said "He's a fairy, I do suppose -
Flyin through the air in pantyhose
He may be very sexy or even cute
But he looks like a sucker in a blue and red suit!"
I said "You need a man who's got finesse
And his whole name across his chest
He may be able to fly all through the night
But can he rock a party til the early light?
He can't satisfy you with his little worm
But I can bust you out with my super sperm"
I go: Do it! I go: Do it! I go: Do it, do it, do it!
And I'm here, and I'm there, I'm Big Bank Hank, I'm everywhere
Just throw your hands up in the air
And party hardy like you just don't care
Let's do it, don't stop y'all, a-tick-a-tock y'all, you don't stop
I go: Hotel, Motel, whatcha gonna do today? (Say what?)
I'm gonna get a fly girl, gonna get some spank, drive off in a def O.J.
Everybody go: Hotel, Motel, Holiday Inn
You say: If your girl starts actin up, then you take her friend
I say skip, dive, what can I say?
I can't fit em all inside my O.J.
So I just take half and bust them out
I give the rest to Master Gee, so he could shock the house

(Master Gee)
It was twelve o'clock one Friday night
I was rockin to the beat, and feelin all right
Everybody was dancin on the floor
Doin' all the things they never did before
And then this fly fly girl with a sexy lean
She came into the bar, she came into the scene
As she traveled deeper inside the room
All the fellas checked out her white sassoon
She came up to the table, looked into my eyes
Then she turned around and shook her behind
So I said to myself, "It's time for me to release
My vicious rhyme, I call my masterpiece"
And now people in the house, this is just for you
A little rap to make you boogaloo
Now the group ya hear is called Phase Two
And let me tell ya somethin: we're a helluva crew
Once a week we're on the street
Just a-cuttin' the jams and making it free
For you to party ya got to have the moves
So we'll get right down and give you the groove
For you to dance you gotta be hype
So we'll get right down and make you rock
Now the system's on and the girls are there
Ya definitely have a rockin affair
But let me tell ya somethin there's still one fact:
That to have a party, ya got to have a rap
So when the party's over, you're makin it home
And tryin' to sleep before the break of dawn
And while ya sleepin' ya start to dream
And thinkin' how ya danced on the disco scene
My name appears in your mind
Yeah, a name you know that was right on time
It was Phase Two just a doin a do
Rockin' ya down cause ya know we could
To the rhythm of the beat that makes ya freak
Come alive girls, get on your feet
To the rhythm of the beat to the beat the beat
To the double beat beat that it makes ya freak
To the rhythm of the beat that says ya go on
On n on into the break of dawn
Now I got a man comin on right now
He's guaranteed to throw down
He goes by the name of Wonder Mike
Come on Wonder Mike, do what ya like

(Wonder Mike)
I say: A can of beer that's sweeter than honey,
Like a millionaire that has no money,
Like a rainy day that is not wet,
Like a gambling fiend that does not bet,
Like Dracula without his fangs,
Like the boogie to the boogie without the boogie bang,
Like collard greens that don't taste good,
Like a tree that's not made out of wood,
Like goin up and not comin down,
Is just like the beat without the sound no sound
To the beat beat, ya do the freak
Everybody just rock and dance to the beat
Have you ever went over a friend's house to eat
And the food just ain't no good?
I mean the macaroni's soggy, the peas are mushed
And the chicken tastes like wood
So you try to play it off like you think you can
By sayin' that you're full
And then your friend says: "Momma, he's just being polite
He ain't finished - uh uh, that's bull!"
So your heart starts pumpin and you think of a lie
And you say that you already ate
And your friend says: "Man - there's plenty of food!"
So you pile some more on your plate
While the stinky foods steamin, your mind starts to dreamin
Of the moment that it's time to leave
And then you look at your plate and your chicken's slowly rottin
Into something that looks like cheese
So you say: "That's it - I got to leave this place
I don't care what these people think
I'm just sittin here makin myself nauseous
With this ugly food that stinks"
So you bust out the door while it's still closed
Still sick from the food you ate
And then you run to the store for quick relief
From a bottle of Kaopectate
And then you call your friend two weeks later
To see how he has been
And he says: "I understand about the food,
Baby bubbah, but we're still friends"
With a hip hop the hippie to the hippie
The hip hip a hop a you don't stop the rockin
To the bang bang boogie
Say up jump the boogie to the rhythm of the boogie the beat
I said: Hank? Can ya rock?
Can ya rock to the rhythm that just dont stop?
Can ya hip me to the shoobie doo?
I said: Come on make the make the people move

(Performed by Big Bank Hank but Written by Grandmaster Caz)
I go to the halls and then ring the bell
Because I am the man with the clientele
And if ya ask me why I rock so well
A big bank, I got clientele
And from the time I was only six years old
I never forgot what I was told
It was the best advice that I ever had,
It came from my wise dear old dad
He said: "Sit down punk, I wanna talk to you
And don't say a word until I'm through
Now there's a time to laugh, a time to cry
A time to live and a time to die
A time to break and a time to chill
To act civilized or act real ill
But whatever ya do in your lifetime
Ya never let a MC steal your rhyme"
So from sixty six til this very day
I'll always remember what he had to say
So when the sucker MC:s try to chump my style
I let them know that I'm versatile
I got style, finesse and a little black book
That's filled with rhymes and I know you wanna look
But there's a thing that separates you from me
And that's called originality
Because my rhymes are on from what you heard
I didn't even bite and not a god damn word
And I say a little more later on tonight
So the sucker MC:s can bite all night
A-tick-a-tock y'all, a beat beat y'all
A lets rock y'all, ya don't stop
Ya go: Hotel, Motel, whatcha gonna do today? (Say what?)
Ya say: I'm gonna get a fly girl, gonna get some spankin, drive off in a def OJ
Everybody go: Hotel Motel, Holiday Inn
Ya say: If your girl starts acting up, then you take her friends
A like that y'all to the beat y'all
Beat beat y'all ya don't stop
A Master Gee? Am I mellow?
It's on you so whatcha gonna do

(Master Gee)
Well like Johnny Carson on the late show
A like Frankie Croker in stereo
Well like The Barkays singing "Holy Ghost"
The sounds to throw down, they're played the most
It's like my man Captain Sky
Whose name he earned with his super sperm
We rock and we don't stop
Get off y'all, I'm here to give you whatcha got
To the beat that it makes you freak
And come alive girl get on your feet
A like a Perry Mason without a case
Like Farrah Fawcett without her face
Like The Barkays on the mike
Like gettin right down for you tonight
Like movin your body so ya don't know how
Right to the rhythm and throw down
Like comin alive to the Master Gee
The brother who rocks so viciously
I said the age of one my life begun
At the age of two I was doin the do
At the age of three it was you and me
Rockin' to the sounds of the Master Gee
At the age of four I was on the floor
Givin' all the freaks what they bargained for
At the age of five I didn't take no jive
With the Master Gee it's all the way live
At the age of six I was a pickin up sticks
Rappin to the beat my stick was fixed
At the age of seven I was rockin in heaven dontcha know I went off
I got right on down to the beat you see
Gettin' right on down makin all the girls
Just take off their clothes to the beat the beat
To the double beat beat that makes you freak
At the age of eight I was really great
Cause every night you see I had a date
At the age of nine I was right on time
Cause every night I had a party rhyme
Goin' on n n on n on on n on
The beat don't stop until the break of dawn
A sayin' on n n on n on on n on
Like a hot buttered de pop de pop de pop
A saying on n n on n on on n on
A rock rock y'all, gimme whatcha got
Cause I'm a helluva man when I'm on the mike
I am the definite feast delight
I'm a helluva man when I'm on the mike
I am the definate feast delight
Come and meet the Master Gee you see
The brother who rocks so viciously
I'm gonna freak you here, I'm gonna do you there
I'm gonna move you out of this atmosphere
Cos I'm on, all time, and I'll shock your mind ..... (inaudible)
Master Gee, gettin it on
Takin' all the girls
(fade out)

Yes, it's a long one with a particularly nice message for small town conservatives. And I can't even describe the continued horror the crowd felt when Q and I sang Barry Manilow's Copa Cabana later in the evening...

Note to self: Stick to Richard Marx when singing karaoke.