otra cerveza por favor

is what i hope to be saying approximately 27 hours from now.

i'm leaving for playa del carmen tomorrow to enjoy 6 debauchery-filled days and nights with 4 of my single girlfriends.

we're staying here.

all of us have packed enough clothes for a 3 month expedition.

i just hope we come back alive!

yo e-lev-EN!

you know what takes serious talent in vegas?

a) being cut off
b) being told by the craps table pit boss that you need to watch your mouth or you will be escorted out of the casino

i, of course, accomplished both of those on new years eve. because i'm that good*.

and, if you are going to reply to the pit bosses plea to stop the profanity, you better make sure you're tipping the dealers VERY well before loudly slurring "what the fuck do you mean? i can't fucking say 'fuck' in fucking vegas?!? that is the stupidest fucking thing i've ever fucking heard!"

luckily i had that foresight.

and luckily i don't remember most of the night. nearly everything i know has been pieced together by si saying "oh, and you know what ELSE you did? this was great, you....". which is when i say "stop! i don't want to know!"

however, i would like to know what i did to cause the big nasty bruise on my stomach. picture to follow, because you totally want to see it, i know you do.

*also good enough to get kicked out of a hockey game while in college. because it also takes serious talent to be that rowdy.