Little Caeser’s Heping Hands

Jonco tries to censor a statue in front of Little Caesar’s Hotel in Las Vegas.

Ceasers helping hands

We’ve seen two shows; comedy at the Improv and Mac King’s Comedy and Magic show (excellent and cheaper than most) at Harrah’s.

We just ran into Bella in the casino (imagine that!) on our way back to our room before our gathering tonight.  More pictures later tonight or tomorrow morning.


Friday Firesmith – That Smell

Firesmith logo

Anyone who has ever changed a diaper believes in the supernatural. Nothing human, nothing natural, nothing made of this earth could come out of a baby and smell that bad. It’s more than just a smell, it’s a presence like that of a demon or a ghost or a Jehovah’s Witness at your door
when you’re drunk and naked and really pissed off that the Braves (or your favorite team) blew a five run lead in the ninth to lose by six runs.

But let’s face this issue like adults, not that this is an issue that would come up at a PTA meeting or the finals at a chess match; there are some things that come forth from the body human that dismay even the owners, and sometimes, especially the owners. I envision some sort of recording
device for smells one day that will prove to be the ultimate in guilt producing when parents sit teenagers down and say, “You smell that young man? We put up with THAT when you were a baby and you get drunk and wreck the car to repay us???”

Speaking of drunks, I worked with a land surveyor who was going through a divorce. He drank a lot of beer and ate pickled eggs in bars because they were there. The resulting flatulence was incredible. We would screech to a halt and get out of the van or hang our heads out of the windows. It was really that bad. It was worse than anything I have ever smelled in a living creature. He let one rip in a McDonalds one day that cleared three booths. People were looking under tables to see what had just crawled out of Hell.

I once threw a party where the main dish was black beans and rice. I drank a lot of Scotch that night, and because I refuse to let a hangover stop me from functioning, I went to the gym the next day. A truly good looking woman was teaching a Pilates class and asked me to take the class so I did. Bad mistake! While getting into a position that created a lot of stress on my stomach, a poisonous vapor escaped from my body. It was made entirely of the Satan. It smelled like a herd of leper zombies had been put into a blender then left in a hot car for a week and poured over maggots. I tried to ignore it, but my eyes began to water. Worse, the vapor came again, and I tried to hold it back but realized if I tried to hard when it did find release, it would vocalize its existence. Slowly, I released the toxin into the crowded room, and I prayed for

An older woman on a mat behind me was the first to discover the possession. I heard her exclaim and then she checked the bottom of her shoes. Then she looked at me. I smiled. She didn’t. She got up and turned on this giant fan, and I was saved. At that point no one there could tell where it was coming from.

Years later, the woman who taught the class saw me in another gym and she and I talked about the good old days. Near the end of the conversation she asked me, “Do you remember one day, when there was that smell in the room…?”

I hope that recording device stays un- invented for a while.

Take Care,


Mike writes regularly at his site:  The Hickory Head Hermit

Opinions expressed in this article are not necessarily those of the management of this site.