So I am back from Vegas, also it is my birthday. What does that mean for you? Well I am going to talk shit about Sin City and tell a story related to birthdays and chest boxes.
Vegas. I don't get it. I understand the concept and see how it could be a blast. However I just can't get into it. From what I can see Vegas is all about gambling, drinking alot, trying to get laid, and shows. I don't gamble because I have an addictive personality and I know that gambling would be pretty bad for me. I do enjoy drinking, but my power slamming of alcohol days are long past me. I am more of a marathon drinker than a sprinter. I also prefer to imbibe with friends in a welcoming atmosphere rather than being surrounded by the frat boy mentality of Vegas. That same frat boy mentality goes into the getting laid part. Of course that is why you get hit with all those hooker cards on the strip. The shows part looks like the part I would enjoy the most, however the one show I wanted to see - Penn & Teller - was sold out. In the end the part I enjoyed most was my hotel room view.
Not many mountains here in Texas.
Also this picture made me laugh for a while...it's the little things I guess.
Because apparently you CAN put Baby in a corner. Also there is a Dirty Dancing slot machine. That's good shit.
On to Storytime with the Cake Fucker.
This happened at DragonCon yet again, a magical place and the birthplace of many a nerd story. A large group of us were in the Rebel Legion at the time, and were doing a Rebel Pilot day. Well during the dinner hour a bunch of us Warhawks decided to head down to a little frequented (at the time, I guess in the intervening years this place has changed owners and blown up during the con) pub a few blocks from the hotels. We walk in and sit at a large high top that served as the middle of the room. At the bar was a young lady and an older gentlemen, and in the back room area was another few folks. As we are all ordering food and drinks the young lady (henceforth known as "Bunny") yells out, "It's my birthday!!!" at the top of her lungs. We all politely acknowledge her and tell her happy birthday. As the evening wears on Bunny begins to get more and more boisterous (and trashed), and comes over to our table. She makes her way up and down the group messing with all the guys. Then she gets to me. Apparently in her drunken state, I was the one that she latches on to. She proceeds to grind on me and have her self a good ol' time - basically giving me a lap dance. At the time I was in my B-Wing fighter pilot costume that has a rather large chest box. (this is were Glen makes a cameo to demonstrate!)
So as a nerd the entire time this not unattractive lady is grinding on me I am thinking "Damn I hope she does not break my chest box...". The whole time this is going on she is screaming, "IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!!". When she was done with me she moved on to a friend of ours known as Mini (with some not so subtle coaxing on our part). Mini is less than thrilled with this turn of events. After some more grinding the bartender tells Bunny that she needs to settle down. She then returns to the bar...for about 2 minutes. She then comes back over to me, pulls her shirt up, shoves my face in her chest, and gets her self thrown out. All in all an interesting night and a fun story. There are many more details, but that is the crux of the tale. So from then on whenever the anniversary of ones arrival into this world happens someone invariably yells out "IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY!!".
Ken will be here tomorrow to begin his Heroes odyssey, so come on back to hear of a much more interesting weekend than I had.
Reading this week - "Beastslayer" by William King