You Don't Say. The Showman And Dre?

Greetings sportsfans! Bumpers here. I’m writing this poolside from the Bellagio in Vegas. I know what you’re thinking. "Showman, weren’t you in happy LA yesterday?" I sure was friend. And now I have an interesting story to tell you.

I was sitting around the pad yesterday reading my biography At The Top, At The Bottom, when the phone rang. It was ex-Surgeon General C. Everett Koop. Now, I haven’t heard from Koopy in over eight months, so I knew something was up. He told me that he was leaving for Vegas in a half-hour and he had an extra spot. I hung up the phone, thought for about five seconds and packed an overnight bag.

Koopy swung by place and I jumped in front seat of his sky blue ’68 Oldsmobile convertible. He loves that car. After reminding me to buckle my seat belt about a thousand times, we were on our way.

At about 10:30, we rolled up to the Mirage. Koop tossed the keys to the valet and told him to put out his cigarette. As soon as we got inside, I started thinking of a way to ditch C. Everett because, frankly, he’s a bit straight-laced for me. I only went with him because The Showman never passes up a free trip to Vegas. I told him I was going to the bathroom and walked right back out the front door.

I bribed the valet with a $20, and he let me "borrow" Koop’s car. I steered that boat all the way over to the MGM Grand, knowing that place has the loosest baccarat table in town. As soon as I got there, the staff quickly ushered me up to one of those fancy suites they reserve for celebs and big time Asian gamblers. The bellhop told me the last person to use the room was Margret Cho – apparently she’s a big Asian time gambler.

After a few hours of baccarat and keno, The Showman was hanging kind of low. I was shuffling back to my suite when two fellows stopped me and introduced themselves as Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg. I didn’t know these two from Adam, but they said they grew up singing along with my records, and that inspired them to get into the music biz. They begged me to join them in a game of Haitian Three-Man, but I told them The Showman was a little low on luck. The guy named Dre pulled out a wad of cash the size of my head and offered me a few thousand. I tried to refuse it, but Dre said he owed it to me because without The Showman, he’d be nothing. I told him that if we were going to play, we might as well do it right, so the three of us climbed in Koop’s ride and headed over back over to the Bellagio. You know, that’s the cool thing about celebs – we’re all in this together.

Dre got himself a spot at craps table in the high stakes room and his stack of chips grew faster than a young Gheorghe Muresan. Snoop kept holding out these funny looking hand-rolled cigarettes and asking me if I wanted to join him and the ladies for a smoke out, whatever that is. Somehow he ended up convincing me, and after that, everything is a little foggy.

All I know is that I spent some time in the pool, some time at the blackjack table, a lot of time at the bar, and an obnoxious amount of time at the buffet. I have to say, the Bellagio does quite a job with their buffets. You can scoop T-bones on to your plate like they were mashed potatoes. Like I said, everything was kind of foggy, but I do know that I was asked to remove my lips from the soft serve ice cream machine. And my pockets were filled to the brim with chocolate sauce and sprinkles.

I have finally calmed down enough to dictate to the cute little number sitting here what exactly I want her to write for my article. And I think she’s done a fine job. I’m not sure what I should do today. I should probably find the Surgeon General, but I think I’ll pick up a racing form and just chill instead. Actually, I feel a little younger and a little more in touch with the world after hanging out with Snoop and that lyrical surgeon, Dr. Dre. In fact, I’m enjoying a 40 oz. right now and yes, I did pour some out for my homies - Eisenhower and JFK. Oh jeez, here comes Snoop now and he looks to be carrying another one of them "cigars". I shouldn’t get involved in that, but then again…

I’m winkin’ at ya and thinking’of ya.
The Showman,