The Hangover

Welp, I'm back from Vegas, which is wicked depressing on many levels, not the least of which is the fact that I can no longer carry a cocktail strapped to my person as I go about my daily activities. Weak.

You know, I actually think I drank LESS in Vegas than I normally would, simply because in Vegas there is absolutely no pressure to finish your drink before you leave a place. Have half a glass of wine left after your meal? NO WORRIES! Consider it a parting gift along with a starlight mint! In fact, take this sippy cup and lanyard so you can remain hands-free! At one point, I bought a drink at a casino bar, carried it with me INTO A SHOPPING MALL, and then to our table at a restaurant (!!), where I finished it with dinner. I mean, really. Ironically, the only place you CAN'T carry a drink in Vegas is a tattoo parlor. Thus ensuring that 100% of Vegas tattoos are administered to the sober. Christ. (Fun fact: Tosc originally wanted to get a[nother] tattoo in Vegas, but ultimately decided against it because then he wouldn't be able to go in the hot tub. Which is pretty much exactly why I didn't get one either. W.T.F.)

Speaking of Tosc, in a pretty standard move in which I epically failed to TITFTLOG, I put him in charge of photography during the trip. It's well documented that I will tote a $250 camera far and wide across the globe for years on end, without ever actually removing it from my purse. However. At this time I would like to present a photo essay showcasing the types of items Tosc finds worthy of a Vacation Photo:

The, and I quote, "pisser"at the Paris hotel, provided as "evidence" of the upscale nature of the hotel.

The fountain outside the Bellagio, featuring not the famous water show, but the significantly LESS famous MAINTENANCE DUDES.

Gigantic Man-vs.-Food burrito, which is free if entirely consumed in one hour. Tosc actually got up into this poor teenaged kid's grill to take this one. AND made me walk across the bar like 5 times "to check on the status". Which was, at each and every juncture, "disgusting yet insignificant progress".

Bickering gay couple sitting next to us at the bar. Actually, these guys were kind of awesome. This picture basically captures the essence.

Mulleted dude wearing cutoff 2003 Old Navy shirt and ponytail. Because we can't find any of THOSE right here in Texas. Jesus H.


SIGH. This is probably his screensaver by now.

Oh, and my sister got married too. Congratulations, you crazy kids. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have photographic evidence that someone let a fucking teenaged boy name their Mexican restaurant.