The Biz

I submit the following for consideration for Bizzaros Of The Year:

Elias Koteas (aka Casey Jones)
Christopher Meloni (aka that guy from Law and Order SVU)

Y'all Reno 911 fans

Reno movie

I love the fact that Paul Rudd is the druglord. The man is straight up funny.

Grade A Kyle

Kyle has finished nearly all teaching obligations for his class on Drugs of Abuse. He has some papers to grade and grades to post, but after that, Kyle will be done with teaching for at least 3 years.

On a related note, Kyle wonders why - oh, why - do students wait until it's too late to speak with teachers about how to study properly, how to keep from failing because they need to graduate in 2 weeks, etc. Kyle can tell them how to study and how to prevent an F, but it won't be of much help 3 days before the final exam (or after the final, in one case). Kyle isn't happy about these students.

Vegas Days 3 & 4

I’ll make this one short and sweet.

Day 3: Tour the strip, find beloved “Golden Putti”, take in a ridiculous patriotic light show that I had convinced everyone would be awesome, attend toples rock-and-roll vampire show, drink and watch other people gamble.

Day 4: Rent a car, drag self through endless blazing hot desert walk, catch the ol’ red-eye, get alternate ride home because car impounded, stress out with Dee about whether or not the desert scorched our fetus.

It didn't, fortunately.

Vegas Day 2

We woke up, took in some theme store window-shopping, and gambled a bit. I was up but Dee was down. Video poker—live the dream. I found a big mother fu$#ing slot machine and swore I’d play it later. It was soooo big. Around this time I began calling Dee a “loose nickel slut” in reference to the nickel slots that peppered the casino floor. She loved it, needless to say. A short while later it was wedding time, and we had some fun dressing up. Dee was “Doll Face”, I was “Tim from accounting”, our hotel mate Steve was “Lime Ricky” (he had a green sportcoat), and Beca was “Tit lips”. Prior to this, we went to a slummy convenient store for our supplies (whisky, eyelashes, etc.). The clerks were makeuped to hell and seemed to be crusty ex- (or failed) showgirls. Depressing place. While shopping we shared stories of Vegas sightings from the previous night including that crotch-pole incident, a middle-of-the-street CPR emergency, and a drug bust.
The wedding took place at one of those quaint and quirky Vegas chapels. Several guests brought whisky, some were wearing jeans and sandals (e.g. the Bride’s father, a pot-crazy DJ from Hawaii), and there was a waiting line for the marriage. Perfect Vegas style. The best moment was when the bride and groom entered--he was wearing the gown and she was wearing the tux (which fit well with his long hair length and her short hair). Big round of applause and laughter. The rest of the ceremony was nice, and afterwards we attended the reception. It was held near the top of the stratosphere tower with an amazing view, delicious food and a free bar to boot (although I brought whisky in case). We would up sitting with the grandparents, but with sober Dee’s help we managed not to embarrass or upset them. After awhile we snuck out to ride the “Get off” ride atop the tower. Another ride, the “Get down”, looked cooler so we opted for that. Big mistake. It was a silly little car that jutted us a few feet off of the tower, and then back and forth a few times. Now that I think about it, our ride should really have the “get off” name. Disappointed but not deterred, we headed to the tower-top lounge for some more drinky-drinky. Some guest tried to lecture me about Absinthe, so I eye-gouged him. Well, I should have at least. That’s Vegas day 2.

Vegas Day 1

Dee and I just returned from a whirlwind Las Vegas trip for a wedding. Want to know what we saw? And what saw us? Well, now you can…and more.

Day 1

We arrive to our hotel, the Stratosphere, on Friday evening. After checking in, we seek out dinner at the Hilton Hotel. Lines are ridiculous. I finally eat a pork sandwich, which will haunt my bowels for the remainder of the trip. We then find the bride and groom at a Star Trek bar, complete with costumed hosts and glowing orb drinks. Steve tries to touch some Trek ass. Dee and I go home early—she’s preggers after all. Bride, Groom and crew continue on to a Karaoke bar somewhere down the strip. Although I don’t see it myself, the following scenario is laid out for me the following morning: Two drunken jocky dudes take turns grinding an equally drunken skirted girl on the dance floor, seemingly in competition with each other. One jocky dude starts swing dancing with her. They’re all over the place; no rhythm or control. Then the dude throws the girl up way over his head. You know those poles that hold waiting line rope up? The girl comes down—from 6 feet up, mind you—crotch first onto one of those polls. She reels over in pain while jocky dude scampers off.

That’s Vegas Day 1.