into the wild blue yonder. And then into the Heart of Darkness, Sin City. Me and Lurlene.
We got a call from
our new insect overlords our newest bestest buddy and big toe some nice marketing reps on behalf of a big shot in the car biz. The pitch:
- you applied, you won, come to Vegas.
- Your own private jet.
- Car service (Whale level).
- Presidential suite at the MGM.
- $20 dollars to throw around on your choice of the “pop card” entertainers.
- Tickets to CES.
- Dinner with the big shots.
The fine print:
- you gotta work – write some stuff about the CES.
- We’ll tell you when you get here what we want.
- “Pants are NOT OPTIONAL!!!!!”
- Reports from the Clark County jail are not acceptable substitutes for actual blog/tweeters/tmblr dice/instamaticgram postings. Not even OJ’s secret hidden confession.
Sounds great, right? I have only two concerns:
- this is an elaborate sting. I knew that free Ferrari for sticking some powdered sugar in my luggage offer was too good to be true. Or,
- Willy Wonka is going to meet us at the departure terminal with a few choice words: