Tuesday, October 9, 2007

Fright Dome

This is the ticketing queue and tent behind Giant Crap Clown.   Are you scared yet?



Well, you will be after you get done reading the disclaimer...



...if you're still awake.

7 comments:

The_Scum said...

At least first aid is right next to the men's room? That way you can be scared shitless, clean up and hit first aid next door to treat the scared shitless induced heart atatck?

First

Lavi D. said...

Hey man, thanks for being my reader.

I love you.

And I'm not just saying that to get beer.

vinnymoe said...

Scum, he DOES want your beer & chicks if ya got 'em.

That being said, i dabble in construction enuogh to wounder; WHERE IS THE DOME?
Maybe i'm just being picky but this looks like a vinyl tent to me.
I guess I should't judge a tent pole by it's cover.

Lavi D. said...

Sorry for not being entirely clear.

The corrals are just to handle the lines for the Fright Dome.   The tent is where the cash registers are.   And the essential 8'x8' disclaimer board.

The Fright Dome itself is the giant pink amusement-park monstrosity behind the Circus-Circus. It's been made over for Halloween.

Steve said...

What's the point if you can't touch the props and monsters!?!!?!?!?!

vinnymoe said...

Oh yeah,The pink monstrosity.
you can see this from the freeway behind the srip. Even for Vegas that structure is exceedingly audacious.OK crazy ugly.

gossy said...

hahaha i work at fright dome right now, and its pure madness . Every night i feel like im walking through THE MINI TEEN APOCALYPSE. Tons of them everywhere, and they have cologne on....They gave me some kind of flu as well.


Every now and then when your life gets complicated and the weasels start closing in, the only cure is to load up on heinous chemicals and then drive like a bastard from Hollywood to Las Vegas ... with the music at top volume and at least a pint of ether.

-Hunter S. Thompson


Dedicated to the other side of Las Vegas, namely; the sprawling, mad, incoherent underpinnings of the world's favorite destination.

That, and the occasional ranting about nothing in particular.