I have now been sober for more than 24 hours.  That means, I’m about 10% detoxed.  Ugh.  No, seriously, ugh.  I’m not even sure how to translate this trip into something coherent and meaningful.  Hell, I’m not even sure if I remember the trip.

Anyway…

The drinking started with a beer at 7 am in the Denver airport.  The drinking continued on the plane.  We took a slight break to grab our bags and meet up with our limo driver.  It should also be noted that the limo driver met us with this sign:

It’s true.  My friend did a good job with the sign.  However, if I was in charge of our transportation, I would have surprised everyone with something like, “Brooke’s Bitches”.  Actually, that is probably why I am never in charge.  After a not-so-quick stop at the liquor store, the limo dropped us off at Aria in the CityCenter.  We promptly headed to Liquid Lounge, Aria’s 21+ pool.  After some shenanigans, we dressed up and walked downstairs to Haze Nightclub.  For me, the night ended at approximately 4 am.  On the walk back to my room, I found my sister’s shoes in the casino.  I guess her feet hurt.  That is what kind of trip this was.

Basically, the following days consisted of breakfast and cocktails, pool or shopping, quick nap, shower, and out.  Three hours constituted a successful night’s sleep.  I’m still exhausted.

I’m not sure how to successfully convey any of the stories accumulated over the 5 days.  Weird stuff just seemed to happen, including my sister being motorboated in the hotel lobby by a random to me losing my phone on the first day. (I tweeted, “Tequila…Goodnight world!” moments before losing my phone.  Perfection.) My friend also lost his.  The tracker on his phone noted its last known location as the Bellagio fountain. Also, Saturday night, my sister and I took a cab back from Tryst Nightclub.  In the back of the cab, we found a dirty blazer, drugs (prescription pills that also have recreational uses…thanks Wikipedia), a $6000 check, and a lot of business cards for escorts.  At the time, keeping this crap seemed like the right (fun) thing to do.  It also seemed like a superb idea to wake up all of our friends to show them our loot.  For the rest of the trip, our stolen goods became known as TAXI DRUGS(!).  Ahh…taxi drugs.

I’ll save more for the rest of this week, but I’ll end with a picture.  Apparently, I find this attractive when drinking.  Go me:

In less than 12 hours, I am leaving for Las Vegas with my sister and a bunch of friends.  Months ago, a Facebook page was started to keep the large group updated on plans and progress.  Instead, the conversation has turned into this:

Sister:  I’m making my packing list right now!  It says: swimsuit, swimsuit, dress, dress, dress, champagne.

Me:  Vegas packing list: too many dresses, some swimsuits, vodka, Advil, Pepto Bismol (Sadly, I have not been practicing), hangover vitamins, and yeah…that’s about it. Oh, and my Last Will and Testament. It says to split my 5 remaining dollars at the end of the trip and play some penny slots. Woo.

Sister:  What have you not been practicing?

Friend 1:  Pooping, I believe…Right?

Me:  Correct  (TMI.  I have issues in places that are not my house, so I was supposed to practice doing it in public.  Not seriously.)

Sister:  I love our Vegas group.

Friend 2:  Bad decisions await us, friends….Very bad decisions.

Sister:  Will someone marry a stranger?

See you all next week…If I survive…

I think he needs a real fish.  HEAR THAT, FAMILY?  We need another pet.  I’ll buy.  You can clean the bowl.  Deal?  In other news, I’m entertained by stupid things.

(Click on the video or post title to enlarge.)

Playing on a Dinghy

Yesterday, my sister and I had this e-mail exchange:

Sister:  Screw this whole job s***.  Let’s join the cast of Whale Wars, play with whales and dolphins around the world, and become famous, famous reality TV stars.

Me:  Okay, I’m in.  The whole no pay thing is totally made up for by the reality TV star aspect of the gig.  Does drinking Corona’s on a 50 foot boat count as experience?  We might have a leg up on the competition.

Sister:  Whatever, I’m hardcore. I got stitches and was handcuffed all in one week.  (Long story.  She’s innocent.)

Me:  I burn inside with a rage against the injustices perpetrated upon whales, dolphins, seals, sea turtles, sea birds, fish, and every living thing in the world’s oceans, so I think we’re good to go.  We can offer to meet them anywhere in our dinghy.

Sister:  I’m packing my black ski mask and my fur, leopard coat.

Me:  I’m packing my faux mink ear warmer/headband and black, ski mittens.  Also, we can wear our “I’m on a Boat” t-shirts the whole time.  This is so perfect.

Sister:  OMG. It’s on Animal Planet right now. I want to be on the Bob Barker. He loves whales, but hates pregnant women!!!! Me too!!!

Anyway, I think we would be great on this show.  It would be kind of like a less dumb version of the Simple Life.  Also, it would be less slutty, because apparently, it’s cold in Antarctica.  However, the job doesn’t pay, and the application costs $100.  That’s a lot of money that could be spent on naughty things in Las Vegas next week.  So, I think I will put together an inspiring video and take donations to export my sister and me to the Bob Barker.  Stay tuned.