I need to clear up some spurious allegations that are floating around about me. If you were to believe Mel's story, I was just determined to see Thunder from Downunder. First, Mel always wants to see a show while in Vegas. Second, we had that coupon book. Well, one of the coupons was for the Revue at the Luxor. But it was dark the days we were there. Then it was a whole why don't we go and see the revue at Frontier or the naked ladies at Paris. That's when I said, 'Look if we are going to pay to see topless dancers, why don't we just bite the bullet and see male topless dancers." I was not harbouring some deep-seated desire to see Australian beefcake parade around undressed. Now I will admit to being mightly impressed by pole-dancers but that is another post.

Now I think there were two important lessons from Pansycon III. First, we don't need to plan for Pansycon. In fact, I would go so far to argue that we learned that if I am in California we are compelled to go to Vegas. It doesn't matter what we think, feel or plan. We will find ourselves on the strip.

Second, after Pansycon II, we thought that the only right place for us in Vegas was the Bellagio. Go read Mel. That's what is all about. Well, here is the big shocker from PIII, we didn't even darken the doors at Bellagio. The tram was down between Monte Carlo and home. No drinking of champagne. No shopping in Tiffany's. Strangely enough, no maxing out of credit cards. PIII was a slumming experience. Thanks to the car, we went way down the strip, way down, and Mel got her nose pierced I ate cheap sushi. We went to an outlet mall and thought about buying luggage. We went in and out of hell successfully a number of times (what that says about the state or our souls, I don't know). It was all a lot of fun.