Waking up in Vegas

I wake up in Vegas all the time.

OK, technically I wake up in Henderson -- maybe that explains it.

Either way, I can't help but notice my experiences are nothing like what's shown in the video for Katy Perry's latest god awful single, "Waking Up in Vegas."

While Perry and I both hail from Commonwealth countries, it's painfully obvious that we have nothing in common. Sure, the two of us have the same naughty bits, but that's where the similarities end.

For starters, I don't gamble. I haven't bet a dime since I got here and I don't plan to start throwing my hard-earned money away any time soon.

Perhaps that's why, unlike Perry, I don't often hang out in the high roller suites at the Palms.

And unlike Perry (and Britney Spears and all the rest) I have yet to walk down the aisle here in Sin City. Or anywhere, for that matter. Hell, I haven't even been engaged... Yet. You never know what tomorrow might hold. Or tonight, for that matter -- this is Vegas, after all. Call me optimistic; I call myself romantic. But I digress.

Like the British pop tart, I've been to Fremont many times. But whenever I go it's hillbilly central, not some splashy, flashy scene where elephants and fire-breathers run wild. (Let's face it: the Griffin and DCR are more my speed; even Beauty Bar is too hip for me sometimes.)

I admit, I've done a lot of wacky stuff downtown, but unlike Katy, I've never made out with some guy in a phone booth while dollar bills swirl through the air.

Or made out in a phone booth at all, come to think of it.

Wait. Does Vegas even have public phone booths? I don't think I've seen any. Hmm. Perhaps I should find one; they look like a good time.

At any rate, here's Perry's new video. Turn the sound off and enjoy the all the Vegasisms, including Penn and Teller's cameos.