The Diamond Lounge is Decadent & Depraved

The casino air breathes well. In fact so well I'm starting to forget what the real stuff breathes like. They say some mad scientist somewhere in a lab far far away invented some air filtration system that aids in the production of dopamine in the brain. He most likely meant it for personal use but was desperate for money so the casinos bought it off him and he retired young. Rumor has it, it's the's the same guy who invented legionnaires disease.

Anxiety is easy to curb in this place. Most likely a combination of the synthetic air and the graceful nature of the big breasted floor game dealers. Comprised of mostly retired hand models, schooled in the science of perfect posture. A 67 degree angle slope, bent forward. Showcase a reasonable amount of cleavage and perfect leverage on the back end. The high heels effect, a type of subliminal message geared towards our animal instincts. That's what this place is all about.

This mornings destination, the Diamond Lounge located on the mezzanine level in the Showboat Casino. For those unfamiliar, the diamond lounge is a place where the old come to die. "Shrimp cocktail sir?" "I'll take 3 shrimps and a Johnnie Walker Black, 3 cubes. I've had a long day so we're gonna have to keep them coming." The name of the game in a place like this is excess. Milk the system for all it's worth but always leave a good tip. Remember that unlike Ronald Regan's flawed economic model, when you treat low level employees such as bouncers, valet drivers and cocktail waitress's with more financial respect than they deserve, it often pays out two to one.

Greg was inventing million dollar ideas in his sleep recently. We would cheers to them often, "To the suicide button, and how as we toast this glass of champagne, some poor soul on the casino floor is wishing that invention existed," I said to greg. The suicide button was an odd idea that greg came up with, a sort of dentist like headrest to be installed in several locations around the casino floor. If you gambled your life savings away and knew that your life was over and declaring bankruptcy wasn't your cup of tea you could take the easy way out. A cattle prod like air gun would rest inside the head rest, and of course like any thorough security checkpoint you would have to answer a few "are you sure you want to do this" prompts on the screen that would look similar to a pop-up ad on a virus ridden porn site. Force the casino to hire new employees to dispose of corpses. Economy fixed, that simple.