I'm on Patron, tequila. I'm drunk on margaritas...

So this was the plan: we go pick up Kenneth and his friend Dingleberry and drive to Vegas. In Vegas, Pooh and Kenneth are to get married and we'd spend one crazy night on the strip. After abusing our livers and dancing the night away, we have to get Kenneth and Dingleberry back home by a certain hour. Quick and easy, right? Pick up the boys, get married, get drunk (or get drunk first and then get married), and go home.

Oh. My. Gosh. All the things that could go wrong, went wrong. Pooh woke up late and only got two hours of sleep because she was so excited (which is understandable. I stayed awake on my red eye to NYC, even after I downed the sleeping pills.) Of course, two hours of sleep means "shitfully tired" and "forgot to fill up the tank." I got on 152 E and didn't notice when the gas light had come on. I had been driving on E for... I had no freakish clue, so I screamed and panicked. Pooh woke up and told me to shut up. She used the nav, which we named Shanoya, to find us a gas station and the bitch got us lost.

Eventually we made it to a gas station. Pooh got some food... And lost the car key. We spent a good 30 minutes or so looking for it and I was in charge for the rest of the trip.

We made it to Vegas by about 11 or 11:30. We checked in, got ready, and walked over to a casino down the strip. We started the night off with a shot of Grey Goose. Pooh found a blackjack table. Dingleberry and I lost $20 on the slot machines. We couldn't get into a club because the two geniuses with a penis didn't bring any proper clothing. I drank all of Pooh's free drinks at the blackjack table. A handful of Redbull vodkas, kamikazes, and Stoli presses later... I decided to call it a night. I had to drive the next morning since Pooh had her license taken away. It was IMPERATIVE that I get the boys home in time and there's no way I'm screwing up at work during my probation period.

Woke up. No hang over. No headaches. I. Am. A warrior. All of a sudden I hear screaming in the hallway. It's about 9 am and Pooh and Kenneth had just gotten back to their room. Pooh broke her shoes, lost $600, and had to walk a mile barefoot back to our hotel.

What the ruckus happened?!? She had at least $200 when I left her! She left that good table (the dealer even gave her signals as to when to hit or stay! Kenneth said that at one point in the night she had $400!) and went casino hopping. One dealer even told her, "This has been a bad table all night. I'd go elsewhere if I were you." And you know what she did? She sat her fat expanding ass down and lost her money. Her shoe broke. She tried desperately to win back enough money to at least buy some sandals. It never happened. They had no more money left for a taxi so they walked all the way back.

Dingleberry paid for breakfast at McDonald's. Wow, what a freaking gentleman right? And we headed home. We dropped off the guys. We hugged Kenneth goodbye while Dingleberry went off to go play with himself or something...(Asswipe didn't even say bye or thank you. This is the first and last time I ever trust Kenneth with boys.)

Pooh and I got home a little after midnight. I completely knocked out and continued sleeping on my commute to work. It was a classy shot. I fell asleep on the BART with my mouth open. Thank goodness I'm not a drooler.

What a waste of a weekend! The two kids didn't even get married, which was the main point for this quickie to Vegas. I only agreed to go along because I didn't want them to get married alone. All in all, it was a good weekend. I had fun, both on the road and at Sin City. Work this week has been slow, so I've been able to recupe just fine. Vegas isn't really my scene, so I don't plan on going back any time soon, but this is definitely going into the books of "Stupid Shit I Do For My Friends."