THIS. IS. SPARTAAAAAAAA

okay so i'm watching 300 while i'm writing this, so sue me.
at least i'm writing in here.
i've been busy, okay?

okay, no. i'm making excuses.

but i did go to las vegas, or vegas 2.0 i affectionately call it. this time it was just the ladies, no mom, no gramma, no evil aunt vera. just me, lmt, steph and morgan.
the first 48 hours were awesome. the remaining 48 hours made me want to rethink my love of las vegas. i couldn't get out of there fast enough.

we stayed at mandalay bay (hold your hats for the rant) WHICH IS THE MOST OVERPRICED, ODD AND CHILD FILLED HOTEL ON THE STRIP I WOULD THINK. like, holy hannah there were more urchins running around than i had drinks in my hands (which sometimes, incidentally was a fairly high drink:kid ratio). the lazy river pool was swimming in sunblock and piss, not to mention 200 other people trying to fucking race around the damn thing. IT'S ONLY 8 FT WIDE FOR FUCK SAKES! thank god for the tube buffer. you can be unapologetic when you're in a personal floatation device that's twice the size of you and fits around your middle.
or at least that's what i kept telling myself.
it's so painfully obvious that i'm a canadian-- i can't stop apologizing and saying please and thank you.

ewww i just looked up to see the guy with the melted earwax face in the council in 300. you know, the guy that licks that girl that is clearly having a seizure? fucking melted earwax face men. ack and now he licked her. well, now i'll have to work extra hard to not think about those sick mother fuckers.

all in all vegas was aight. i lost my camera on saturday which is total balls but whatever, it's to be expected when i'm a drunken mess. i've talked to lmt and we've come to the conclusion that we don't know what the fuck happened on saturday. there are periods of time that i remember, like being on the patio at the foundation room and talking to lmt or when i was in the bathroom and i think i tipped the bathroom lady a twenty for using her perfumes. whatever, at that point in the night that was stolen money anyways so what the fuck did i care? saturday night i found a wallet at rum jungle and we definitely raided it of all cash, but graciously turned it in to the bar. thank you kind stranger, your $83 made my night unforgettable. well, unforgettable in the sense that i have no fucking clue what occured between the hours of oh... 2am and 5am. i met some strange man in the casino named george. i began calling him hispanic george because he was hispanic and his name was george. he works for budweiser, and he didn't help me look for my friend. he just hit on me, continually until i found lmt and i left him at the casino. whatever, i wouldn't have remembered his name in the morning anyways.
sunday was the hangover from hell. i was still drunk when we were at denny's-- eating my salad was like climbing mount everest. the following walk down the strip was even harder. i definitely kept looking for places to deposit my vomit. i slept on the bathroom floor that afternoon-- it was just safer that way. that night we went for delicious hotel buffet and then we ended up at the cathouse and smoked a lot of shisha and drank over strong gins. after that we went to xs in the encore. HOLY FUCK, i want to sleep in those hallways. the hotel is beautiful. all the walls have a texture.
and the bar is a pool party. that i could handle.
xs was where i met george 2.0, a whatever from chicago. i wasn't drunk so we talked about chicago for a little while, i told him i got run over by a bike at navy pier and he laughed. then he proceeded to ask me if i got lucky on this holiday. I GOT THE DOUBLE ENTENDRE you fuck (he proceeded to explain it to me as if i was slow). then he said that he could show me the twin towers (he was staying at NY NY).
that was when morgan passed out on a pool lounger. it was the perfect out.
we left shortly after we got morgan into a sitting position. then we got into a cab driven by a pregnant lady (of course, what else would i expect?!?). morgan was incredibly drunk, mumbling mozza sticks and 'i'm a professional' for the entire ride (of which she threw up in).

monday was the day i'd like back. flight delays, morgan hung over and i felt like all kinds of smashed ass. spending so much time in the las vegas airport made me hate my life. especially skat jazz reditions of moon dance and fucking we didn't start the fire.
skippity bee bop skoot scat ma da deedle woot ungh.

thankfully the plane had movies. i watched date night AND some of fight club. it was fantastic.

but i need another vacation to get over my vacation. i'm supposed to be going on tour at the end of next month with one of the vegas girls... i'm stoked if it pulls through. if not, well then i'll go camping or something. 
fuck, i hate this summer.

b; old enough to know better; attached.
college student of historical events, future educator. canadienne. i like to read, but i don't do it enough. i run. i like zombies. i'm obsessed with all things batman, except not batfleck. i'm a terrible video game player, but i'm getting better through attrition. i can play piano pretty good, though. the sound of city streets soothes me, but i love the silence of the forest. curious stargazer.

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lainey | tfln | afp
chubs |

THIS. IS. SPARTAAAAAAAA

okay so i'm watching 300 while i'm writing this, so sue me.
at least i'm writing in here.
i've been busy, okay?

okay, no. i'm making excuses.

but i did go to las vegas, or vegas 2.0 i affectionately call it. this time it was just the ladies, no mom, no gramma, no evil aunt vera. just me, lmt, steph and morgan.
the first 48 hours were awesome. the remaining 48 hours made me want to rethink my love of las vegas. i couldn't get out of there fast enough.

we stayed at mandalay bay (hold your hats for the rant) WHICH IS THE MOST OVERPRICED, ODD AND CHILD FILLED HOTEL ON THE STRIP I WOULD THINK. like, holy hannah there were more urchins running around than i had drinks in my hands (which sometimes, incidentally was a fairly high drink:kid ratio). the lazy river pool was swimming in sunblock and piss, not to mention 200 other people trying to fucking race around the damn thing. IT'S ONLY 8 FT WIDE FOR FUCK SAKES! thank god for the tube buffer. you can be unapologetic when you're in a personal floatation device that's twice the size of you and fits around your middle.
or at least that's what i kept telling myself.
it's so painfully obvious that i'm a canadian-- i can't stop apologizing and saying please and thank you.

ewww i just looked up to see the guy with the melted earwax face in the council in 300. you know, the guy that licks that girl that is clearly having a seizure? fucking melted earwax face men. ack and now he licked her. well, now i'll have to work extra hard to not think about those sick mother fuckers.

all in all vegas was aight. i lost my camera on saturday which is total balls but whatever, it's to be expected when i'm a drunken mess. i've talked to lmt and we've come to the conclusion that we don't know what the fuck happened on saturday. there are periods of time that i remember, like being on the patio at the foundation room and talking to lmt or when i was in the bathroom and i think i tipped the bathroom lady a twenty for using her perfumes. whatever, at that point in the night that was stolen money anyways so what the fuck did i care? saturday night i found a wallet at rum jungle and we definitely raided it of all cash, but graciously turned it in to the bar. thank you kind stranger, your $83 made my night unforgettable. well, unforgettable in the sense that i have no fucking clue what occured between the hours of oh... 2am and 5am. i met some strange man in the casino named george. i began calling him hispanic george because he was hispanic and his name was george. he works for budweiser, and he didn't help me look for my friend. he just hit on me, continually until i found lmt and i left him at the casino. whatever, i wouldn't have remembered his name in the morning anyways.
sunday was the hangover from hell. i was still drunk when we were at denny's-- eating my salad was like climbing mount everest. the following walk down the strip was even harder. i definitely kept looking for places to deposit my vomit. i slept on the bathroom floor that afternoon-- it was just safer that way. that night we went for delicious hotel buffet and then we ended up at the cathouse and smoked a lot of shisha and drank over strong gins. after that we went to xs in the encore. HOLY FUCK, i want to sleep in those hallways. the hotel is beautiful. all the walls have a texture.
and the bar is a pool party. that i could handle.
xs was where i met george 2.0, a whatever from chicago. i wasn't drunk so we talked about chicago for a little while, i told him i got run over by a bike at navy pier and he laughed. then he proceeded to ask me if i got lucky on this holiday. I GOT THE DOUBLE ENTENDRE you fuck (he proceeded to explain it to me as if i was slow). then he said that he could show me the twin towers (he was staying at NY NY).
that was when morgan passed out on a pool lounger. it was the perfect out.
we left shortly after we got morgan into a sitting position. then we got into a cab driven by a pregnant lady (of course, what else would i expect?!?). morgan was incredibly drunk, mumbling mozza sticks and 'i'm a professional' for the entire ride (of which she threw up in).

monday was the day i'd like back. flight delays, morgan hung over and i felt like all kinds of smashed ass. spending so much time in the las vegas airport made me hate my life. especially skat jazz reditions of moon dance and fucking we didn't start the fire.
skippity bee bop skoot scat ma da deedle woot ungh.

thankfully the plane had movies. i watched date night AND some of fight club. it was fantastic.

but i need another vacation to get over my vacation. i'm supposed to be going on tour at the end of next month with one of the vegas girls... i'm stoked if it pulls through. if not, well then i'll go camping or something. 
fuck, i hate this summer.