Last time I came to Las Vegas I was shunned. I got really drunk the night before and thrown up on myself in my bunk. The rest of the boys had left me in disgrace on the bus and gone out to have fun without the asshole. So I woke up in my bunk, in my own vomit. Unfortunately, being a dirty soap dodging punker at the time, I had come on tour with only one full set of clothes. A full set of clothes now covered in vomit. Try as I might I couldn't find a launderette. There aren't any public launderettes in Vegas. The want you to gamble not wash. Eventually in my still drunken stupor I stumbled across an apartment building, broke into the laundry room and set my washing going. The room was so hot and I was so hung over I passed out in there wearing only my shorts. I don't know how long I was out but when I woke up my clothes were done and I wasn't arrested so I legged it out of there.On the way back to the bus (to try and get some grace back with the boys) I'm sudden stricken with the pain. My digestive system has kicked back in after all the alcohol and I need a beer shit. Stumbling, still half drunk, crazy eyed with my sack of washing I blather up to the entrance of the nearest casino where I am told in no uncertain terms to immediately turn around and get the hell out of there before they call cops. Well hell, you can't blame them with this bag of washing and drunken leer I look like the Santa Claus Antichrist. I can't hold it in so I sneak around the back and do a poo in the parking lot. Not everything in Las Vegas in golden. Fortunately this time I manage to stay sober and house trained. We play a storming gig at the Huntridge Theatre. Which, incidentally, has it's roof cave in not long ago DURING a show and no one was hurt.
Carcass get a dead rat thrown at them in this venue and then the roof caves in during a show. Does anyone else get the impression that this gig isn't meant to be? Very strange. During the show Jim gets his usual flash of knockers from some freaky woman in the crowd and I get a lot of arm waving and my hair pulled.Go figure.
After the show we head off to the Stratosphere tower. It's a mini CN tower in the middle of Vegas. We are drawn to it. Thrill seeking moths to a 1000 ft concrete flame. We ride the elevator to the top floor. There's a roller coaster and a 'Big Shot' up there. We ask the woman at the counter up there which ride is the worst.
"The roller coaster is pretty cool, but if you wanna feel like you're gonna die then you should check out the 'big shot'." Freaks that we are, we go for the 'Big Shot'. Some fool has built a rocket tower with ejector seats on all sides and called it a Big Shot. We pay our dollars, we get strapped in next to each other. Our legs are dangling from the tiny chairs and we can see all of Vegas in it's night time glory from where we are sitting 1000 ft above the city. A red light flashes and "Viva Las Vegas!" blasts out of a stereo system far too loud then WHOOOOOOOOSH! Up we go 125 ft in 2.5 seconds. G force 4. It's like being strapped onto a rocket and lighting the fuse.
We all scream like children on the way up and then relax as we catch a second of zero G at the top of the tower. Only to shit our pants as the thing plummets back down to the ground, which feels like driving your car off a cliff. The thing that really gets you about the whole thing is that you're already 1000 ft above the ground BEFORE you rocket the extra 125 ft in a couple of seconds. That ride is sick. Take a peek at the picture above. Please take special care to note the look of extreme terror in my brother's face and the clenched teethed "SHIT!" coming from Jim's mouth. I thank you.
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