Isn’t Work Fun?
Crossing the casino floor (I'm legally prevented from saying which one by a NDA so profound I can't even comment if it's on this planet, let alone something as simple as it's name) is like wandering through a menagerie of Darwinism (indeed, and participants in the Darwin Awards). Though the dude sucking back the eighteen pound hamburger pictured above has never hopped on his electrified fat-mobile and zoomed through the double-wide front doors to drop a few bucks before eating himself into a grease-coma, more than a few of our 'guests' (we don't call them customers because apparently they feel…
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