Tits Vegas

The best laugh I got in Vegas was the tits. The city has more tits per mile than anyplace I have ever seen. No, I don’t mean living tits, I mean the public art which the city seems to be obsessed with. Show girls may have given way to plain old strip clubs, but as in the ad, the young ladies are, well–how to say it–not well-endowed enough! They are just real pretty women, with good proportions. Not quite the way the forefathers of Vegas intended them to be.

They may have lovely behinds, but Vegas has had to whet its fantasies in concrete, stone and marble breasts. So tucked away in obvious corners are the like of tits in all kinds of situations. The most disappointing were at the Paris, on what was supposed to be the Garnier (where the real statues can be ooh la lah).

There is the body part wall, I think at Mandalay Bay. I even caught a young English guy and his wife and we egged him on, not too hard, to go wild. The shot is blurred, to keep the identity and integrity of the groper.

There are a whole series of fantasy boobs, at the Monte Carlo. Where upfront young handsome male counterparts (below, with their privacy always intact) offer up dreamy, lovely uncovered damsels, near semi-porno.

There are the hijinks of the sea (below). Shiver me timber swords and chesticuffs at Treasure Island.

There are tasteful displays of the nude at the Mirage (left) and remainder at Caesar’s artsy (center), whimsical (right), mythological (below) and who knows what (far below). In fact Caesar’s has to pride itself in more nudes than most museums. They are not scardey-cats like the Venetian, to show guys in the altogether (David and Apollo Belvidere) which I’ll hit up in another blog.

Perhaps, all these women, hark back to the nineteenth century, when a picture of an unclothed woman over a bar, reminded a guy of the loneliness of life out West. Far from the good read novel, I went through recently called Utrillo’s Mother. She was Suzanne Valadon, a millinery assistant, waitress, circus animal sitter, nude model, and finally, painter. Through her eyes we see how exploited the models of these fabulous pictures and sculptures were. A territory most of us, as in men, never really think about, much less ever visit.

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