the best thing about the wednesday nights at the gallivan center is the dots–when the beer line is too long, go for the sugar! sitting down to watch the “cool” kids have seizures alongside local bands is my idea of fun; had i been just a bit more intoxicated i would have joined–next time, i swear!
gallivanting about town…
feel, err…fill me up!
looking over my bank account post vegas i found this: PURCHASE - SALES TERRIBLES #___ LAS VEGAS NV $53.73 . i don’t remember hitting any adult super stores, but you never know. so, i went through all my receipts and found one in the same amount for gasoline. sure enough the station was called terrible’s, how i failed to notice is beyond me. maybe, just maybe they feel so badly about gas prices they named the station accordingly.
department of fishing and drinking
when traveling to vegas with an old fratboy you can count on one of two things: a) stopping by the frat house for a “quick” bathroom break, or b) stopping by the favorite college watering hole. please note i use old fratboy in humor, as there is no such thing, once a fratbrat always a fratbrat. this is one of those things that men just can’t let go of, frat stories and remote controls, whatever.
i threw a fit until i saw the sign, this girl is always up for a good beaver bar!
potty-talk
why is it that co-workers think it’s ok to talk to me while in the restroom?
potty break means just that, a break! can’t you just refrain from walking in and attempting to hold a conversation while i’m in a stall, especially when you’re discussing work. i’ll ignore you, so really i guess it’s like the rest of the day.
please, for the love of god…let me wipe in silence!
blending it, vegas style.
when i think of brew pub food i expect certain things, you know, beer food: pizza, nachos, and all things appetizer; sushi and oysters require sake, not american beer. i understand vegas likes to mix things, but please for the love of strippers and all else holy, leave the breweries alone!
these strange mixes cause middle-aged men to drink, a lot. thank god, the man at the table next to me decided to wait until i finished my dinner to puke into his own lap. so, being a fellow puker, yes, sometimes i can’t hold my alcohol either (stop judging, i said SOMETIMES) i walked over and politely handed him my stack of napkins. as i walked out of the restaurant i heard him claim “wasabi sucks”, then make plans to hit the floor, for some reason i think he’ll end up hitting a different floor then planned, just a thought…












