and it’s about Vegas, and it’s ranty. It’s totally full of stereotypical sweeps and “why can’t his friends be intelligent instead of party turds” nonsense. But I feel like I’m going to keep it to myself. I mean, smart people probably go to Vegas for bachelor parties, too, right? Major scrabble tournaments go down there. And don’t forget the old “Find the most eccentric Vegas library” hunt. Why can’t they be the guys who go to Vegas to eat like kings and enjoy the shows - you know - like real, adult, “I have serious relationships or wives at home” type people. But no, unfortunately that’s not the case.
He leaves on Thursday ( we won’t even talk about how I don’t even get him to myself on Wednesday… but maybe we will) and returns on Sunday night. I guess that not only do these dumbasses not really care about not being fuckheads, but they don’t care about their mom’s either.
Yeah - I’d probably be a little irritated if J was going to a bachelor party in vegas…
I warned him once that any stripper that goes to a hotel room is not a stripper… she’s a prostitute and he must hose himself down with Lysol immediately and leave.