Vegas, baby, Vegas.

The last of my travelling sagas for the next few months...

Memories from Vegas (in no particular order).

Treasure Island = T. I. Late late night conversations. Burning feet at the pool. Munchies. Canada boys. Hawaii boys. Cabbie trying to rip us off. “Stolen” club passes. Slap-slap-slap in Allen’s ear. Cell phones. Terrace Cafe. Glitter on Allen’s shirt. Scandalous pictures. French Fries. Hennessey. Sean, the limo driver, who talks about having passes, but doesn’t actually have anything. Let’s wheel the walgreen’s cart all the way back to TI. “But, Trip, I looooove you!” Slap-slap-slap. Calling Jon, but never seeing him. Ding! The elevator is so loud! Drunk girls falling out of their seats. Losing big time at Pai Gow. Winning it back and then some. Wynn buffet. Mmm..Pizza. Clajisters and Shave-One. “They’re aren’t any hot guys here!” “What are we?!” “oh, except for the ones that we’re with.” Slap-slap-slap. LAMER.

And that my friends, is what happens when LAME does Vegas.