My favorite part was the part where they called it \"The Tropicana\" but really the theme was \"buttholes.\" I figured it out when not one thing was shaped like a pineapple, but everything smelled like stale, lingering farts.\n\nContinuing on this theme, the TV remote does this super rad trick where it doesn't work. I can only assume this is an extension of the efforts made by the world famous Laugh Factory, located here in a desolate hall above a mostly abandoned lounge where you don't get a fridge or a microwave in your room, but you DO get confronted by some guy with bad hair and glasses every time you use the elevators. Luckily that TV works and doesn't need a remote! Remotes aren't funny! You know what's funny?! Excess charges for a pool area that smells like my grandma's house before she discovered Walmart carried glade candles!\n\nThere's also a really hilarious puddle of water outside our door. Thank god for laughter. \n\nOur room was awesome. Our shower started emitting this rather loud, grinding sound around 7am and didn't stop well into the afternoon (from what we could tell), so I was smitten from then on. This was in addition to the hall AND pool area smelling like butts, which we were really pumped about (VEGAS WOOOOOOOOOOO) on the condition we were able to get a decent night's sleep. You know. The thing you're definitely supposed to be able to do in a hotel room. Joke's on you humanity! THE JOKE. IS ON. YOU. \n\nWhatever. Sleep's for commies and dead people. \n\nI would give this place infinite stars but I only have three, and I need one to get the hell back to Los Angeles, where there aren't nearly enough butt smells to go around. Two stars for you, Tropicana - Las Vegas. You still don't suck as much as Florida in the summer. Congrats.