I always compare the smell of a clean restaurant to clean laundry. You may not know exactly how it's supposed to smell, but you know it when it's there.
Good thing they don't depend on me because once I get past the nickel video poker machines, my palms start to sweat.
For instance, I had a truffle-infused martini (vodka) the other night that was a miraculous thing.
The other item was the local nurseries that had plants and hybrids that were well suited for the desert climate, assuming, of course, that you have at LEAST an "aqua" thumb. I wish.
Those of us who live in Nevada sneer at California politics even while driving there every opportunity to grab food, wine, and some serious beach time.
If we don’t personally know someone who was killed, injured, or wounded, we know someone who knows someone. Yours truly included.
My loved ones were concerned that just maybe I had attended a country-western concert on the Strip at 10 pm on a Sunday night.
Well. Now that I have your attention...
People get off and on the bus at the various stops from the Strip to Downtown, and any number of them are worthy of a Night Court episode.
Personally, I have a hard time with Cabernet Sauvignon and Malbec because they are real bruisers. Unless, of course, there's a candlelit, air-conditioned romantic dinner involved...