Well, this should be the easiest one to write-we didn't hit any breweries Thursday, so I don't have to dig through all my stuff to find the booze-stained receipts and napkins containing beer note scribblings.

We didn't see any more of Boston in the morning. We drove back down through Massachusetts and along the Connecticut coast. We were headed ultimately for Atlantic City (where we had reservations at the Trump Plaza), with plans to check out NYC for a few hours. New York kind of escaped our planning. I'm not sure Graham was too keen on seeing the city [ed: yes, I was. But one is never quite prepared to enter the gates of hell], and I figured there was enough stuff there to make a whole trip of it itself (I may like, go there or something with Stachurski next summer). There was a vague sort of plan to see the Met and the NYSE. We thought maybe we could park somewhere and ride the subway around (this worked pretty well in Boston). But we didn't see a single sign for a park & ride. Instead we wound up circling Manhattan by car. Because of the intermittent gridlock we got to take in the landmarks. We drove down the West Side and back up along Broadway or something.

New York is really damn dirty. And the drivers are assholes (when the sign says, "Don't block the box" you DON'T BLOCK THE BOX). But I guess everyone knows that already [ed: I'd heard as much, but I just assumed it was typical media hyperbole. Wrong!]. I'd hate to see what that place was like before Giuliani. Since we didn't have reservations at "21" we decided there wasn't any point in hanging around, so New Jersey ho!

Atlantic City: A wretched hive of scum and Trumpery.

Atlantic City was swank. It's the only place I've ever been where I could smoke a cigar on an escalator (I smoke cigars in the elevator at Georgia Tech all the time, but strictly speaking, I'm not supposed to). We got in as the sun was going down and everything was lighting up. Trump Plaza and Caesar's Palace were just frickin' massive. Trump Plaza is an amazing orgy or self-aggrandizement. Trump Trump everywhere Trump, in letters 50 feet high. And Caesar's, jeez. When American civilization crumbles, it will pretty funny to see Caesar's Palace burning down.

Graham stands at the altar of one of the many shrines of Trumpianity.

Curtis's innocent mind is corrupted by the decadence of Caeser's Palace.
Our room was fairly kick-ass [ed: and cheap, Vegas-style]. We had a great view of one of the Trump towers. And there was all this Trump stuff in the room. According to the room service menu, they even had Trump microbrew! Trump ale and Trump pilsner. So we hit the floor in our suits [ed: I was wearing a two-button three-piece Italian suit with a Bill Blass tie and a Pierre Cardin shirt]. Casinos are best experienced in nice clothing. We got our free drinks and picked up some cash at the slots. When we'd soaked up enough atmosphere we changed into street clothes and hit the boardwalk. We did some more gambling at Caesar's and the Sands, and then headed back to the Plaza (it all comes back to Trump in the end). Graham paid six bucks for a pack of Camels at the gift shop. Not that he wanted the cigarettes that bad, he just thought it was really cool that Trump was charging that much from some cheap smokes. We stretched out the rest of the night at the 25¢ video games, and got some food at one of the Trump restaurants. But get this: they didn't have any Trump beer! What the hell's going on?
The view from our suite at the Trump Plaza.

Graham, needing more money for the slots, resorts to trying to sell fake timeshares in Florida to the unsuspecting elderly.

Curtis hits it big, only to lose it all moments later at the Baccarat tables, whereupon the dealer shrugs and says, "The dice role funny for everyone, Mr. Bond".

When we got back to the room we called room service for some Trump beer. But damn it, they said the Trump beer had been discontinued! Sonofabitch! Then we turned on the TV to the 24-hour Trump A&E Biography channel, but they weren't running the video! We couldn't believe it-Trump was getting screwed in his own casino! The one place in the world dedicated to the glorification of Trump and they weren't even running his tape! (In retrospect, I suppose Trump deserves whatever he gets, because of his stupidly insane tax plan.)

Since there was no Trump we watched Filter on Conan and Filter was cool and he screamed and got all Filtery and stuff.