One of my ex-boyfriends, the one who was both a vampire and the reincarnation of John Lennon, kept getting us tickets for Ringo Starr concerts and I never ended up going. If I ever go to a Ringo Starr concert, I intend to go with him. (And probably his wife, and possibly their kid.)

Slot machines bore the fuck out of me. I had a great time playing at a blackjack table with my Great-Aunt Jane to help me out, though--she showed me some tricks and little additions to the game, and spotted me chips when I was down. I ended up winning about $100. It was awesome.