Vegas Hockey

Well, I made it out of Vegas alive again. And as always, there were some crazy times. At the moment, I'm in the ghetto of LAX waiting to get back on a plane and head off to San Jose for the week -- doing my best to remember what happened over the last 36 hours.

I barely made it out of Connecticut. American decided it'd be a good idea to cancel all flights in and out of BDL because it was snowing a little, so I had the joy of flying to Vegas via Minneapolis on Northworst. Woo freaking hoo. Needless to say, my brain clock was reading about 3:00am by the time I hit ground and 3:04am when I lost my ass at the blackjack table.

We went to Pure, a pretty good night club on the strip. Minding our own business, doing whatever it is guys do at clubs... I ran into (quite literally) Mike Tyson. Honestly I expected him to be taller. Don't get me wrong -- I'm not about to pick a fight with the guy, but 5'11 looks a lot bigger on TV. I think it was 11am or so by the time we finally got back to our hotel room and slept... which put me at something like 30 hours without sleep. And all I had to eat was a double cheeseburger and a plate of bacon. Somewhere between the club and the bed we managed to blow a few hundred dollars on blackjack... which isn't hard when the ATMs are all spitting out hundos. But I guess a few hundred for 5 or 6 hours of playing isn't too shabby.

I dunno how they did it, but my friends managed to get up and play a pretty good game of hockey on a few hours of sleep. After the game we did it allllll over again. Only this time we went to LUX, and we were bumpin' uglys with Coolio, carrott top, and Ashlee Simpson. Hella good time, and Coolio puts on a damn good show for 43 years old. This time I think we managed to crash out at 8 and be up at 10 for another hockey game. Championship didn't go so well, so I'm done watching playoff games this year. I'm sick of seeing my teams lose.