An Open Letter

Dear Las Vegas,

I apologize. For years and years I said that you, dear Vegas, were over hyped. Even after my last adventure there I claimed it was a one off. Said that while fun, I could drink at home. I believe I called you cheesy. Vegas, I'm embarrassed. But, when I'm wrong I say I'm wrong. And Vegas? I was epically wrong.

You see, the problem wasn't you, it was me. I didn't know how to do you right. Now that my uncle is having a late life crisis complete with 29 year old Romanian model girlfriend who has Jedi mind powers that gets us into all the clubs, well, I can do you right. Right are tables facing dance floors. Right is bottle service. Right is the 23 year old football player. Sigh.

Vegas, bottle service is amazing, as is the club XS. When you combine the two? Genius. Especially when said table faces the pool that has over a thousand people dancing around it and 2 very naked people in it, doing what can only be called 'making a baby'. That, that is a good time. Also a good time are the bathrooms at Mix. You see that club is on the 64th floor of The Hotel and the toilets come complete with a floor to ceiling window over looking the city. It's fairly weird to pee that way at first, but now I think it's the only way to do it.

So Vegas, in short, you rock. Neigh, you rule. You also kicked my ass as I am old now and can't hang like that anymore.

I need a nap,
Me