Posted by Nolan Dalla on Jun 20, 2026 in Blog, Las Vegas |
SAYING GOODBYE TO TONY
When I moved to Las Vegas in 2002, there were four Tony Roma’s restaurant locations spread all over town. I tried them all–many, many times.
Tony Roma’s wasn’t just a good place to eat. It was a meeting destination, err make that a “meating” destination. It always was reliable. It was a spot that most people could agree on, at least it was back then. And there always seemed to be a wait at the door, the sure sign of good food.
Tony Roma’s initially started out in Miami, and by 1972 the chain had opened up it’s first Las Vegas location. No one would call it fine dining or anything fancy. And the spartan surroundings resembled a Denny’s more than a luxury steakhouse. TR’s wasn’t destined to win any Michelin stars. But, it was — affordable. Half rack of ribs was around $20 (back then). Full rack cost $22. So, for just $2 more, you got twice as many ribs. Plus two sides.
As for memorable meals–I’ve lost count. The food wasn’t particularly memorable. It was pretty much always the same, which is what we all expected. Here in Las Vegas, I remember dinners from nearly 30 years ago:
— Stu Ungar and Mike Sexton and I went to the Tony Roma’s on E. Sahara about a month before Ungar’s death.
— That same location was where the real car explosion happened back in the 1980s, when Lefty Rosenthal’s Cadillac blew up in an assassination attempt (featured in the movie “Casino”).
— When I worked as the PR Director for Binion’s Horseshoe, I often ate in our steakhouse. But the ribs across the street at Tony Roma’s in the Fremont were a special treat where I went with friends all the time. I must have enjoyed 60-70 meals at that flagship location.
— Tony Roma’s used to have a spot at the old Stardust. Again, this was the restaurant that was really tied to the “old” Las Vegas. Those were the good times when Friday nights included dinner at TR’s, a free radio show and handicapping seminar with weekly picks during NFL season inside the sportsbook, where we naturally also put in a few bets.
— Tony Roma’s even opened a location closer where I live on the west side of Las Vegas. This store never got the crowds of the other spots, so they began running Happy Hour specials.
— The last time we went to a Tony Roma’s was back in February. But we made the mistake of going to the Fremont location (which by then was the only one left in Las Vegas) and we showed up at 5 pm when they opened and the line was out the door and around the block. Somebody told me this was a daily thing because TR’s offered an early prime rib special and every grizzled local in the city must have gone there at least once a week. We looked at the line with perhaps 150 people, and said fuck it. We left. Reminds me of the old line — “nobody goes to that restaurant anymore, it’s too crowded.”
I kinda’ wish I’d stuck it out and dined one last time at Tony Roma’s. Had I know that final store would close, as they did last month, I’d have paid my respects. In fact, I didn’t know until very recently that the TR’s had closed. That idea seemed unthinkable. I mean, it was packed every night. There was always a wait. Naturally, a “wait” naturally meant many bored diners wandered over the video poker machines, or the pit, or hit the sportsbook — just steps away. I’m sure I’m not alone when I say I had quite a few $250 rib dinners at the Fremont Casino Tony Roma’s. But hey, I did get to enjoy the full rack. Oh, and damn the Phillies.
I don’t get it. I don’t understand why a no-frills casino downtown would want to lose a people magnet like Tony Roma’s. There’s one report the casino wants to expand the fancy restaurant next door, so they’ll knock down a few walls. The very last thing this city needs is another snooty high-dollar steakhouse.
I do miss the golden days when we could pull right up into the Fremont, complimentary valet the car inside their garage for a $3 tip, make a sports bet, enjoy a giant margarita, and two people could eat and leave happy and full. It was a reason to go downtown, and sadly there are far fewer and fewer reasons each time I read the news and see a story like this one.
Good article here, worth reading — and remembering. CLICK HERE
Bye Tony, thanks for the memories.
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Posted by Nolan Dalla on Jun 19, 2026 in Blog, Essays, Politics |
He LIES about EVERYTHING.
Big things. Little things. Everything.
And now his bullshit is getting called out by courageous leaders who are fed up with the insults and stupidity.
It’s great to see a strong woman stand up to the buffoon. It’s encouraging to see world leaders refuse to go along as cheap props and cut-out cardboard photo ops for his own relentless propagandizing and tiresome self-promotion.
“She’s probably happy I talked to her. I didn’t have to talk to her. She begged me to take a picture with her. She wanted a picture with me so badly. I wouldn’t have taken it, but I felt sorry for her.” That’s what Trump said yesterday.
READ MORE HERE
Just think of it. All that power. All that grifted wealth. And yet, the worldly vestiges of success eclipsed by the deep insecurities is what shall ultimately define him. Such a petty little man despite such a big job. Always having to humiliate and demean others around him, no matter who they are. He is the embodiment of perversion.
Today, Italians fired back on every front. They canceled what was to be a diplomatic visit that was planned next week, as a protest.
Gotta’ love Italian PM Giorgia Meloni who just kicked his ass and exposed his lie with a very simple remark:
“Neither I, nor Italy, ever beg.”
Now, that’s a boss.
Trump is having a miserable foreign policy week, failing with both adversaries and allies alike. Unfortunately, the damage done to this nation and image worldwide is irreparable for a generation.
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Posted by Nolan Dalla on Jun 14, 2026 in Blog |
A BLAST FROM THE PAST:
HOW THE WORLD CHANGED 80 YEARS AGO IN JUST A FEW SECONDS
Eighty years ago — on June 14th, 1945 — Mr. Fred Trump of Queens, NY flexed his flabby sag loins, sucked in a deep breath, and then blasted his dribble into the motionless flesh of Mrs. Mary Anne Trump, half-asleep and bored out of her skull.
Indeed, Father Fred was known to everyone around him including those who could stomach more than a few miserable moments of his presence as a dubious and dastardly fellow, with those steely piercing eyes, excruciatingly drab and witless, insatiably driven by an obsessive worship of money. Mother Mary, coiffed with a distinctive reddish beehive bouffant, was his deeply frustrated former socialite-turned family-stable brood-mare, sadly and severely limited in her day by the strict roles and expectations of gender and responsibility. It was a marriage of money and misery.
But do credit Mrs. Trump for performing her faithful wifely duties on that sticky, hot, humid, summer evening though masking yet another utterly forgettable 3 minutes and 45 seconds of mind-numbing boredom. Thank God, she thought to herself, for the Presbyterian fantasy swimming inside her head of man machine Frank Sinatra crooning his hit single, “All of Me” to her at that very instant. Oh, Fred–do that to me one more time.
The couple’s brief biological tryst and exchange of body fluids marked yet another awkward bi-monthly routine of passionless matrimony, noteworthy now eight decades later only for the cataclysmic disaster thrust upon the world on that night. No one at the time could have foreseen the death of American democracy had just been conceived. It was like a sewer rat mating with a she-mannequin then left to metastasize in a dark cave hatching nine months later as a poisonous snake.
Pity us all.
It’s such a damned shame that on that fateful night, Fred didn’t whack off into a crusty sock as was his normal ritual, or on his most tingly occasions relieve himself in the shower, his faux would-be spawn swirling down the rusty drain pipe off into the yonder into a New York City wastewater plant. That’s where the demon-seed branded as “Donald” belonged. Just imagine how much better off we would all be right now if Mrs. Mary Anne Trump had given the excuse, “Sorry Fred, not tonight — I have a headache.”
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Posted by Nolan Dalla on Jun 6, 2026 in Blog |
THEIR IDEA OF “HEAVEN” …. SURE LOOKS LIKE HELL
Go and read the Facebook pages of “FUNDAMENTALIST CHRISTIANS” sometime.
Pay close attention to their comments. Read their cut-and-pasted Bible verses. See their fawning praise — no, make that their WORSHIP — of Donald Trump and all things MAGA.
You’re also likely to see lots of American flags and boasting about military conquest. One comment I saw by a dedicated Christian proposes turning a nation of 90 million people “into a parking lot.” Another Christian wants us to “turn the sand into glass.”
A parking lot? Sand into glass? Even the Christians can’t agree on how to commit a mass genocide.
But at least one thing seems obvious from reading their stuff — God is apparently “on our side.”
Meanwhile, check out their OUTRAGE towards all of the things we liberals stand for — universal health care, fair taxation, stopping ridiculous wars, a functional immigration system, protecting the environment and animals, and guaranteeing the rights and liberties of ALL people. I know, heresy.
Fundamentalist Christians warn us that we’re damned to hell unless we accept their so-called “prophet” and start behaving ourselves. They claim we won’t “go to heaven,” that is, not unless we follow their peculiarly narrow view of the world. They advise us we have no chance of spending ETERNITY with them if we don’t accept their Jesus and obey.
Yet, when I see their vision of “heaven,” this imagery looks like the very LAST place I would ever want to spend ETERNITY. Harp music 24/7? G-rated movies non-stop? All the good books banned? Drinking and gambling strictly forbidden? Seriously?
Here’s an image (see above) that popped onto my Facebook feed this morning which is supposedly intended to *attract* followers. Notice anything? Oh, and I actually feel kinda’ bad for those kids in the first chariot staring into the ass in the horse for the whole ride.
Have you spent any time around fundamentalist Christians? Have you hung out with them? Have you ever listened to them and hear how they think and what they believe?
The last people on or off this earth I would want to spend eternity with are fundamentalist Christians.
To many of us, that sounds like hell.
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Posted by Nolan Dalla on Jun 3, 2026 in Blog |
MAGA’S SICK WHEEL OF MISFORTUNE
RED MEAT RAGE BAIT AND THE TRUMP CULT OF THE PERPETUALLY PISSED OFF
This cartoon sums it up perfectly.
The USA is $39 trillion dollars in debt….Republicans got us stuck in yet another stupid-ass war in the Middle East….gas prices are soaring….wealth and income disparity is at its worst in 150 years….and we’re about to go through another disruptive revolution in high-tech with AI which could change all of our lives…….
…..and that’s just for starters when it comes to REAL problems….
…..and yet somehow millions of dirt-dumb MAGA morons ignore ALL the giant elephants in the room and instead are exploding with outrage about trans people, gay rights, who uses which public restroom, banning books in school libraries, Confederate statues, immigrants, halftime shows at a football game, the phony “war on Christmas,” women’s bodies and deeply personal choices, and how some people choose to celebrate “pride.”
Simpleton suckers. Stupid saps. Played like fools. They always take the rage bait. Meanwhile, they’re getting screwed on every front by the same people and forces they worship in the sick MAGA cult. They continue blaming the wrong people.
The MAGA outrage wheel of misfortune is always spinning.
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Posted by Nolan Dalla on May 31, 2026 in Blog |
EIGHT HOURS OF ROAD RAGE
If you saw THIS GUY posting 50 times to Facebook in just one night, MOST OF US WOULD BLOCK HIM instantly. We’d think he’s insane
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Posted by Nolan Dalla on May 26, 2026 in Blog |
Disgraceful and embarrassing.
What next? Pawn Stars tents? Cockfights? Midget tossing? Girls in bikinis wrestling in jello?
Maybe they’ll turn the South Lawn into a giant parking lot for gas-guzzling monster trucks and tote-the-note rust buckets. Warm watered-down beer on tap. Premium seating on stuffed brown suede sofas splitting apart. A metal spike hammered into the former rose garden to tether chained pit bulls.
When it comes to the orange ass-slob, nothing surprises nor shocks me anymore.
Fucking lowlife trailer trash. Yet another desecration of the office and shame of our nation.
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Posted by Nolan Dalla on May 26, 2026 in Blog |
“LADIES FIRST” ON NETFLIX (MY REVIEW)
Way back in junior high school, in 1975, I appeared in my very first stage play. Our drama teacher was Mr. Brewer–I still remember his name. He made a bold decision for us to perform If Boys Wore the Skirts: A Farce in One Act — by Anne Coulter Martens. It was a polemical play about self-identity and gender reversal. All males in the cast wore skirts and were in subservient roles. All females in the cast wore long pants and were in dominant roles. I played the school’s star football player. And yes–I wore a skirt onstage along with a football jersey. When we performed the play live in front of the entire school including students and teachers, there were hecklers and much laughter. But it was all great fun. The challenge of that unusual experience really made me enjoy theatre and musicals, which I did from then on until graduating from high school.
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Posted by Nolan Dalla on May 25, 2026 in Blog |
IT’S NOT BREAKING NEWS, IT’S THE NEWS THAT’S BROKEN
Memo to All Media:
Please stop treating anything said or posted by Trump as “breaking news.”
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Posted by Nolan Dalla on May 23, 2026 in Blog |
MY 25 PICKS FOR FAVORITE / BEST AND WORST WORLD WAR II MOVIES (RANKED)
This Memorial Day weekend, I’ve ranked my most (and least) favorite World War II movies.
Based on IMDB listings, there are roughly 6,000 films related to WW2, which stands above all other subjects as the most recycled historical event in movies.
Note that these are my “favorite” movies, which isn’t quite the same thing as the “greatest” movies — though there’s some obvious crossover. I based my #number# rankings on how many occasions I’ve seen the movie (in some cases, numerous times) and the chances I would want to watch it again. In some cases, a movie can be great but I also don’t want to see it a third or fourth time. Once is plenty enough. So, it’s all subjective, and admittedly inconsistent. Nonetheless, let’s take this occasion to remember the best and worst WW2 films.
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