FKR.

It feels like only yesterday that we were in vegas for his 21st birthday. Turns out that was 2 years ago, and his dad decided it was high time for a repeat.

So, with cash in the wallet, ibuprofin in the bag, and a smile on my face, off we went to vegas….. with a mandatory stop on the way….

We arrived to a bit of a debacle with the room, fortunately we brought some cheap beers while we looked at expensive cars.

Here’s a little artistic interpretation for Stuart, since this was the last of the Genny Bocks. We saved it for a special occasion.

Vegas was, well, vegas. I almost feel bad saying it, but I’ve figured out how to survive the place.

Now, Kevin Rice, on the other hand, threw down. He was a roulette-spinning, craps-rolling, and bottle-service drinking mofo.

My friday ended around 4, and his was rockin’ until at least 6. Saturday involved a buffet for breakfast (at 11:30), a lot of sitting by the pool, and then a late dinner followed by making the rounds to a few select bars. We didn’t end up at any clubs, but we did stop by my all-time, favorite bar on the strip, Nine Fine Irishmen.

We drank, we sang, we partied. It was everything I could have hoped for. I called it around 4:30 that night. It’s been a while since I’ve had the late nights like that, but it was a helluva good time.

Another successful trip to vegas in the books, and I came out generally unscathed. Didn’t lose too much money, wasn’t too hungover, and actually felt like a real human being today.

I know, disappointing.

Then again, this easily puts my number of Vegas trips into the double digits (probably by a few), so maybe I’m just getting used to the abuse that city dishes out.

I hope not.