24-hour wild animals like ND

Just what are you implying?

I'd be totally down with doing Burning Man.

Just what are you implying?

That you rarely sleep, love a good Scotch, are well acquainted with a variety of debaucheries, and look very fetching in eyeliner.

How you manage to balance this with also being the guy who has cradled MM and Aimée's baby daughter as if she were more precious than a Fabergé egg (which she is), earned a devoted following of students and parents and successfully mentored at least one student into a terrific tech program, and gave Nilly a sweet and gentlemanly personal tour of Disneyland, is just one of those eternal mysteries.

I attribute it to multiple personalities, or maybe even a dimensional rift.

in white linen dresses (preferably with hoops and crinolines

This sounds very airy and cool, doesn't it?

I've heard having an RV to which to retreat for the occasional shower is great. I've also heard that going completely nude and following along behind the truck that's spraying water to keep the dust down is pretty awesome, too. Sadly, my nude hippy chick days are over or I'd SO be there.

I wonder if I would be more together with an extra personality or two to take care of the shit I never get around to.

(Heh. First visit with a new shrink a couple of years ago, talking about depression, and she asks, "is there any chance you might be bipolar?" Me: "If so, where's my damn manic episodes?" True story.)

"Buffista Burning Man colony" arise, but that's the beauty of Buffistadom. It embraces multitudes, be they hoop-skirted, hiking-shoe clad, kilted or buck-ass naked.

Heh. If I'm not sleeping in my own bed, I require a hotel with as many stars in its rating as possible, room service, and a hot tub.

This leaves me out of the running for Buffista Burning Man, be it Gorey-esque, hike-a-riffic, or all-naked all-gay. Teppy and outdoorsy stuff are unmixy things.

My only real problem with an flavour of Burning Man is what it's always been: too much noisy weirdness. I like to pick and choose the people I'm going to be around, including the number, and especially the noise.

Reminds me, if I survive this damned week, I need to go poke the events manager at the Milano in the arse with a salad fork. She's taking too long.

edit: or, what Tep said, for she and I are As One in the many many stars of the hotel in question.

Aimee, re an earlier question of yours, the only problem with renting just a hospitality suite and letting people scatter over the wilds of Sin City is that people wouldn't be able to wander down in ther passionkiller jammies and eat Doritos while watching cartoons.

Deb, come join me at the 5-star hotel, where we can order room service and then just burn shit on the floor a la the giant wicker dude. Like, we could order lamb chops and then burn their little paper booties.

Deb, come join me at the 5-star hotel, where we can order room service and then just burn shit on the floor a la the giant wicker dude. Like, we could order lamb chops and then burn their little paper booties.

I'm thinking some highly rock and roll friendly venue, a la the Four Seasons. We can get the concierge to bring us up stuff, and then we can torch it in the bathroom sink, and wash it down the drain with water from all the fancy gilt taps.

What? It's harmless. We aren't asking for sandsharks or hot and cold running groupies, or something.

We aren't asking for sandsharks or hot and cold running groupies, or something.

I *do* require that all the orange M&Ms be removed from the basins of sugary treats that room service will be delivering every hour.