17th August 2006.

Last day in Vancouver. Bit sad as it has been brilliant. But when I think about what I have actually done while I have been here there really is very little. I seem to be just wandering around! Take today.... I went to do some washing and thoroughly enjoyed it! Perhaps that explains why I have enjoyed myself here so much. I think that everyone must be stoned all of the time! It all adds up! I walk around in a daze, shops that I have just seen have been missing when I look again. I saw a barbours shop on Granville street and went back the next day to get my hair cut and it was gone. When I went to the Laundrette ( Laundromat my arse) I saw a fab little diner that offered the best breakfast in Vancouver. Popped in my washing and went for the "Best breakfast in Vancouver" and it was gone! I even remeber that the sign offered "Trucker burgers". What is a trucker burger? A burger with a baseball cap on and one really suntanned arm? Anyway, I couldn't find the diner and had to settle for a Denny's. I notice that the diners never disappear when it comes to the time to pay the bill. Sneaky Canadians.

There is a massive tattoo culture in Vancouver. Nearly everyone has a tattoo. I know that there are loads in the UK now but you really are amatuers. Even the girls have tattooes that cover the entire arm or back or shoulder or leg. I don't have a problem with tattooes, but I think that they are really over the top here. But to listen to people talking about a whole body tattoo..... it is really severe. It has focussed my mind on the rest of my career. I am going to train in the art of tattoo removal for when all of these people get old and they see that the once fearsome wolf that they had inked across their breast has now become more like Droopy the Dog. There is cash to be made here! My other thought was that if tattoo removal is too hard or requires some qualification.....I might train in the art of tattoo creation. Train in a parlour next to some hard nut biker to a high standard. But once I am fully trained....I will switch inks to use only flesh coloured and tattoo over the tattooes! Flesh coloured (not colored) tattooes. It has to be easier than learning how to use a laser!

So, there we have it. There are chimneys in Vancouver that pump out 100% cannabis to keep all of the residents laidback, friendly and overly keen to tattoo themselves(and so that the city officials can remove barbours shops and diners randomly). That would also explain the aggressive nature I stereotypically apply to Americans.... as they are right next door to the smashed out Canadians, they are fed up of the smell, the loud volume Pink Floyd, people lounging around and scuttling off for munchies at 3 am. Not that I am so accustomed to the effects of cannabis usage you understand, just something I read in a book while at University. Besides, joints just give me a super dry mouth and an inability to speak or stay awake. Rest assured Mum, There is no way I will become a dope head, I will stick to the liver rotting alcohol every time! Bet that makes you feel better!

I am going to make today a long and lazy day. I really should make sure that I am refreshed for tomorrow, as I head to Las Vegas. It is only a short ( relatively) flight and at a good time, but I think that I will have to have my wits about me. While the Canadians have been sneaky, I think that there is no harm in them. The Las Vegas films have told me that in every hotel there will be at least one stag party ( Bachelor party?!?! I don't think so.... bachelor party.... how macho do you sound....snigger!) who are trying to dispose of a hookers body. I just hope that the hooker disposal stag party are not in the room next to me because if they get one sniff that I have brought my Leatherman Camping knife with me, they will be banging on my door to use the various blades. And the little scissors would be handy for any tough veins and sinew. Good Lord! I hope that they are not next to me. I assume that the residents and workers in Las Vegas will be accustomed to the stag night hooker killers and wil be prepared.

"Smoking or non smoking room sir?"
"Non smoking please."
"Would Sir like to be involved or adjacent to the murder and/or maiming of hookers?"
"Hmmmm, can I say no but get some hooker killing action from room service?"
"Of course you can sir! Just dial 8 for Guinevere the sincere, Sir! She has the Lance-a-lot special this week Sir!"

So, my expectations of Vegas are fun, Murder and poker. But just in case things get a little slow I have devised a small game to play while I am there. A series of short challenges, if you will. Some are designed to inform. Some are to challenge myself. These will also ensure that I continue to carry my camera around with me as I have forgotten it many times in Vancouver. Feel free to let me know what you think of these ideas at www.keepopinionstoyourself.com.

1. Photograph a fat person in the process of eating everyday. I won't be obvious about it, I will pretend to be snapping something behind them! Perhaps we can then vote on our favourite fat american?!
2. Similarly, photograph stomach churningly over patriotic Americans and any hillbilly types. Extra points if they are riding in the back of a pickup truck.
3. See how many Elvis's are abound on the strip. Or is the plural of Elvis, Elvi?
4. Be on Celeb watch and then pay them no attention.
5. Have a running battle to find THE most bored looking wife or girlfriend of a gambler, you know, the one who didn't want to come in the first place.
6. The converse of 5. Find the man who wishes he hadn't brought the missus.
7. Guess the ages of the oldest gamblers.
8. My final one isn't a challenge, more informative. Before I left for my travels I had a bit of trouble with my bowels. Nothing too serious although there was a suspicion that it might be salmonella for a while. So, each day (if I remember) I will give a one word description of my bowels and/or motions. This is not for any kind of entertainment, just to let my Mum knows as she worries about my health.

So! On to Vegas. Land of sleaze, bright lights, and ultra America. Hold on to your hats( and bowels ).

Bowel rating = gravy.