And now, without further ado, the Vegas Chronicles.... (Make sure you pee first, it's a long one)

Day 1: Ah, the departure. I always forget about that whole "Warp Speed, Mr. Sulu!" part of taking off in an airplane. It just makes me laugh. Now I'm not one who is afraid to fly, but dude, my plane was making some weird-ass whirring noises when we took off. (Did I just say 'dude'? Sorry.) Well, they were a little more than a whirring. Kind of like the "He's eating the wing of the plane!" noises. Thankfully, Jon Lithgow was nowhere on my flight. Ahem. Moving on. The funniest part about my first takeoff is that I believe I had a ballbuster for a pilot. We had about 3 false starts before we actually took speed, kept it, and went up, up, and away. He kept speeding up and then slowing down again as if there was a passenger outside of the plane trying to get in last minute and he's one of those funny asshole teenage boys who keep stopping and then driving off whenever someone tries to get in the car. ah ha ha ha. Yeah, you know those boys. You know what happens to them when they grow up? They become pilots. Yes, and in return for their wrongdoings, a green slimy creature eats the wings of the plane and taunts one passenger about it.

Now where was I? Oh yes, so the first day in Vegas was pretty uneventful as the plane ride is tiring. We just pretty much checked out the hotel, which is about 8000 times the size of a normal hotel. We met a crew for dinner at the American Bar and Grill at the New York, New York Hotel that night. New York, New York has become the patriotic place to be since 9/11, and I think the funniest part about the whole American Bar and Grill place with all of its American flags and hoopla everywhere was that all of the people working there were foreigners. I checked out other restaurants in the same hotel - Americans. Crazy.

Day 2: Ah, day 2 began my trip-long battle with the moths. For some reason, our hotel had a lot of moths flying around. Not exactly a selling point for such a nice hotel which shall remain nameless. *cough*MGM Grand*cough* Actually, there seemed to be a lot more in our room than anywhere else. My parents were down the hall and didn't have too many. Maybe the moths are friends with the birds. Ah, anyway, by the end of the trip, I earned my moth-killing badge 5 times over. I am the master. The first day I had some of the flailing arms going, but after that it was smooth sailing. So to any moths out there, I have this to say to you: I killed your mother. Bring it.

Okay, I should move on since I'm only on day one. Sorry, y'all. You know how I tend to ramble. I headed back to New York, New York on day 2 to face the Manhattan Express roller coaster. I now think there may be reasons why I haven't been on a roller coaster since I was about 16. It made me feel really old and really wacked out. But it was fun. My brother insisted on buying two of those amazingly attractive pictures that they take of you in mid-action. My face is in perma-grin, he just kind of looks like he has to go to the bathroom. Charming. I insisted that we go to my favorite casino later that day, Circus Circus. I'm one of those people. I like clowns. That's a whole subject for another time. I'm trying to make this as short as possible, remember? That night we headed over to see the 'Legends' show - impersonators who have to use their real singing voices and all that good stuff. It's funny, it was my 3rd trip to Vegas but my first official one because I finally got to see what was missing on my other two trips - an Elvis impersonator. You can't go to Vegas and not see one. I also saw showgirls, complete with feather head dresses. True Vegas. The Prince impersonator? Eerie. Creepy. Too dead on. Did I mention creepily good? After the show, I ditched my travelmates and headed to Studio 54, where a 50-something man named Bruce tried to pick me up. How did he even get in? Where is Mike Myers when you need him? No thanks, Bruce.

Oh, did I forget to mention the greatest event of Day 2? I'm sure I wouldn't have forgotten. Oh wait, I wanted to save the best for last. I was in a hot tub with 3 hot guys. Rub a dub dub, 3 hot guys in a hot tub. Let me repeat: I was in a hot tub with 3 hot guys. And I totally flirted with them. And then my life kicked in as only it can. My mother came over and started engaging the boys in conversation. MOM - I AM IN A HOT TUB WITH 3 HOT GUYS. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? So as it is, then it shall be. [sigh] Welcome to my world. Shall we?

Day 3: I thought I had my fill of Elvis on day 2? Oh, no. I was shopping and there happened to be a pretty haggard Elvis impersonator in a store who wouldn't leave me alone. He kept trying to get me to take a picture with him. Then he grabbed my hands and started serenading me as I'm trying to nonchalantly leave the store to get away from this freak. Molested by Elvis. Ah, the good life. I don't even like Elvis. So after going back to my room and washing the cooties and willies off, we headed off to Gilley's Western Saloon. And oh yes, I rode the mechanical bull. I'd share the pictures but I think they're best kept under wraps. But I rode that bull good and proud. The best part was being thrown from it. It actually was really fun. And it's so funny because the guy controlling the bull makes it go really slow at the beginning while any girl is on it so the guys in the place can get images for whatever they plan to do later. At least that's what I'm choosing to believe. The minute a guy gets on that bull? That bronco is bucking! On the way home from the bar, I had the enormous pleasure and good fortune of stepping into a cab containing the most beautiful taxi driver ever created. I was sitting in the front, so I looked at the dash and saw his picture first. That elicited a small gasp. Then I looked up and saw him and felt my mouth involuntarily just go gape-jaw. I mustered out a "Hi" but was awestruck. His name was Miroslav Rachkov. Yes, I wrote it down. People, he was the hottest cab driver ever. European with dark fringy hair and aquamarine eyes. Did I mention he had guns for arms? droooooooooooooooooool.... 'Tis a shame I don't think he spoke much English. Miroslav..... Okay, I'm done panting.

Day 4: Day 4 was my last full day in Vegas, so it was pretty much a lazy day full of losing money and hiding out from the 101 degree temps on the strip. Side note to all of you ladies out there: Vegas is like a hot guy brigade town. They come in droves. Go. Go to them. Go now. Okay, so back to the matter at hand. We hit the Hard Rock Friday night and caught a Michelle Branch concert. She rocked. And I think I may have been rudely staring at Cheri Oteri. I was standing next to this tiny woman, really eyeballing her to see if it was her. In any case, I think I freaked the woman out. Sorry, Miss-I-Still-Don't-Know-If-It-Was-Cheri-Oteri. Didn't mean to alarm you. I'm not a wacko. Really. Ask around. On second thought, don't.

Day 5: Mama, I'm coming home.... But not before I set off the metal detectors and have to be wanded. Smart move putting metal barrettes in my hair to save styling time. And why do they have to call over a woman to do it? Can't a girl get a cheap thrill anywhere these days anymore??? I'll tell you one place where she can't get one - in a hot tub with 3 hot guys...and her mother.

Viva las freakin' Vegas

before & after





2007-09-26 - Follow Me!
2006-09-30 - Site Move & Favorite Entries
2006-09-25 - Evil Easter Bunnies & Rock Climbing!
2006-09-22 - Shameful-Purchase Hiding & A New Dentist Plan
2006-09-19 - Birthday Picture/Video Diary & The Wheelmobile





Copyright 2003-2006 by Sockgirlie. Stealing is wrong.