No, we didn’t come to drink ourselves to death. Tho after a couple of days here, that does start to occur to you as a viable option � the only place you might find some actual silence is in your hotel room. Like right now, just a bit before we’re checking out. (We are then zipping over to my friend’s wedding at the Viva Las Vegas Wedding Chapel. I can’t wait — I’ve never been to an actual Las Vegas wedding… Nor a Mexican divorce, for that matter.)

But for now, blessed silence. I guess the ceaseless cacophony is just part of the clever psy-ops designed to part you from your cash, to never allow that moment of silence when, God forbid, you might stop and say “why am I shovelling my hard-earned cash into a f*cking machine!? That said, Vegas does have a terrible beauty all it’s own. Like the view by the pool. Which, here at the Mirage, actually is a lovely little oasis, with pounding waterfalls you can stand under (I did) and comfy lounge chairs that “breathe” (they do). After the wedding, a stop at the Liberace Museum, then home. ‘Til then, PING PING PING PING PING.