Anyone who may have spotted acclaimed director Julie Taymor exploring Las Vegas theaters a year or so back probably figures now it related to “The Lion King.”
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You’d think being Satan’s right-hand man would come with a few perks. Untold riches. Supermodels underfoot. Maybe a job in the Yankees’ front office so he’d feel at home.
I still remember the first tamale I ate as a child, back before authentic Mexican food reached the little corner of the white-bread world where I grew up.
If you were holding off on seeing Danny Gans until he moved across the street to Encore, good call.
Las Vegas may never shed its reputation as a guy’s party town where women are commodified — but well-paid — dancin’ dolls in cabaret shows, strip clubs and nightclubs.
Are you, like Dale Betts, looking for good beef jerky? If so, fellow readers have some suggestions.
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