Always turned on.

Always turned on. That's the current motto for Atlantic City. It's clever because it never closes, but also because Atlantic City is just so damn sexy...what with its legion of senior citizens in scooters attached to oxygen tanks, the skanky Jersey girls for whom chewing gum is as much an accessory as their push-up bras, homeless people, fat tourists, drug-addled hookers, the serial killer of those aforementioned drug-addled hookers, and guidos with enough hair product to permanently reduce our dependence on foreign oil. Yes, Atlantic City is always turned on.

But that's where I'll be tonight and tomorrow, simultaneously enjoying myself and being disgusted by myself. Probably more of the latter than the former. I may not write anything until I return tomorrow night (if I return?), but fear not. The Rick Springfield countdown will continue. Just you wait. This week's installment will be...shocking.