I Like To Call It Lost Wages: 2010

The last time I went to Vegas it was for less than 48 hours, but man was it great. A raging weekend with plenty of cameos from my current and long-lost friends. This trip was a little different: I was going for a whole week (help me God) and I was allegedly there as a volenteer for the Mountain West Conference.

Spending a whole week in Sin City and trying to impress potential employers meant that I should probably work hard and take it easy at night, saving up my energy for a huge party the final night in town. But, c'mon, you know me better than that. I firmly beleive that only Allen Iverson can perform better the day after a bender than I, so of course I burned the candle on both ends. Here are some of the highlights and observations I picked up from a jam packed weekend.

-Has anyone ever had a Southwest flight take off on time? Because I haven't. The streak continued as I sat on the runway for over an hour waiting for my flight to take off. And I wasn't even drunk for it. I will never fly sober again. FUUUUUCCCKKKK

-Monday is the set-up day for the tournament but there really wasn't much to be done, so I spent my day playing with the four and eight year-old children of some fellow volenteers. It started as a game of catch with a volleyball and quickly devolved into a game of throw the ball at Sack's face. For the rest of the week I then had to watch out for the little child, Toni, trying to hit me whenever she saw me. Due to her roughly 3 ft size, this often resulted in her taking swings at my crotch. FUNNY EVERY TIME.


-When I checked into my hotel room I was asked if a Mrs. Edy Trey-vor would be staying with me. Edy did bail on the trip because he got a real person job, and I know his gf has his balls, but I don't know about the sex change?

-Everyone hates New Mexico fans, even other New Mexico fans. Those people are horrible. And ugly. Plus, the "Everyone's a Lobo, woof, woof, woof" cheer is more retarded than anything ever.

-I did tournament notes the first couple days which was all women's games and they set a ton of records. For missed shots and rebounds. Yep, women's basketball, it's FAAANNNNN-Tastic!

-For the second year in a row TCU takes home the award for hottest dance team. Man are they smoking. My TCU crush has been explored on this blog in the past, but man do I love TCU. And there dance coach, probably the hottest woman I have ever talked to. She asked me to find out when her team performed and I'm pretty sure that meant she wanted to bang me at center court. It was awesome. (I wrote a very detailed account of how this would have gone down, but you have to pay $3.99/day to subscribe to that page of the blog)

-There were 12 Canadian kids from some school in Ottowa who volunteered as well, and man were they entertaining. In the fact that I spent the entire week mocking their accents, asking them questions about being set adrift and explaining how fucking awesome America was compared to their bitch asses. They kept bringing up some Hawk-E sport that they apparently beat us at, but I had no idea what they were talking about.

The biggest difference I noticed between US and THEM was that we love Chipotle and they love donuts, Seriously, those fucking Canucks looked at Chipotle like it was a turd wrapped in foil. Fuck them, don’tchaknow?

Also, I asked them what are some well-known Canadian beers besides Molson and LaBatt's, and one of them tried to claim Coors. Fuck off, buddy.

-One of the nights we went to O'Sheas to play some beer pong, and I was fucking awful. I still won, but my skillz is deteriorating way too quickly now that I am old and gay. This trip convinced me I need to re-enroll in college because real life sucks.

The highlight of O'Sheas was this video game I started playing with some random people, that was basically memory match with porn pictures. "She is wearing a g-string in the first picture and a garter in the second." Winner! We made it through 20 rounds before I was pulled away to play more pong.

-There is nothing better in the world than being able to travel around with an open container everywhere. Whenever I wasn't "working" I had a beer in hand. Why can't the rest of America just give up on rules like Vegas?

-I was the CSU locker room steward during their near upset against SDSU, which means I had the fun job of making sure my boy Andy Ogide stayed in the locker room after getting kicked out and I got to commiserate with Coach Miles after another excruciating loss.

Other behind the scenes notes: Scotty Reynolds of Air Force thought he was going to be fired...Jimmer Fredette and Johnathan Tavernari do not like each other...New Mexico’s players are even bigger dicks than the fans, as Darrington (awesome name) Hobson kicked a trash can that hit his assistant SID and then proceed to tell HER to "Fuck off" as he ran from the locker room so he could avoid being interviewed. What a bitch ass son.

-I was able to check out the newest and trendiest club in Vegas, Haze. One of the volunteers, this girl from Minnesota, got us in and then managed to do what girls do in order to get us some free drinks.

The club was pretty cool with an entire wall of lights, but for such a big club it had a tiny ass dance floor. I also ran into several TCU players fresh off their elimination, including my Slavic brothers Zvonco Buljan and Edvinas Ruzgas. See, I told you TCU kicks ass.

While at the club I got cockblocked by some random white rappers because the girl I was dancing with thought they sucked.

Fortunetly I regrouped and managed to meet some lovely (read; big titted, loose morals) girls from West Virginia to spend the remainder of the evening with. I'm pretty sure they clung to me because I initially hit on them while with some random black dude that Minnesota had met, and we all know how racist people from West Virginia are. So this was one of those rare instances where racism favored the white guy. Who woulda thunk it?

The other girl that was feeling me the whole rip, well she was from Monument. Fitting, since all I do is creep on friends of my friends, that girls I meet in Vegas would have a connection to Edy.

-I was also the San Diego State locker room steward, and since they won the whole tournament I was able to spend a lot of quality time with their SIDs. I at least was offered an internship out of the deal. See, a reward for my hard work.

-On the final night Minnesota, myself, Monument and another volunteer from West Virginia (not connected with the WV girls, we'll call him Tom) went to Tao. There was supposed to be some free drink deal, but of course it was only for girls, so Tom and I mainlined $15 Vodkas for a bit and wandered. Though I went to Tao during my last stop in Vegas, I really remembered nothing of it. It is a giant fucking place with multiple stories, all of which I apparently missed the first time.

-We bounced from Tao shortly after our new British friends got in trouble for taking pictures of girls waiting in the line for the bathroom on the balcony above us (so directly upskirt, cheerio). We met up with all our Canadian friends at some random bar on the strip that featured the most intense DJ in history. He was basically the Travis Barker of the turntables, overdoing everything.

-Tom and I spent much of the evening giving people Manwhiches. It was very effective at scaring away creeper guys who wouldn't leave the girls we were with alone.

-At one point a girl got worried that her parents, that were flying to meet her in Vegas, hadn't called to check in. I googled "Las Vegas Plane Crash Die" on my phone and proudly showed her no results. I'm so sensitive.

-After we returned to the hotel and went to the hot tub, I decided that more beer was needed. I planned a quick trip up the hotel room, but as soon as I hit the lobby I misjudged my wetness and I packed shit, possibly suffering a concussion. Undeterred I continued on my pursuit of necessary alcohol and ran up to one of the Canadian's room to grab some beer. Up there, I spotted a bottle of wine and attempted to open it. With no opener I started grabbling random objects to try to jam the cork down to open. In the process I dropped one of the tall boy Coors Lights onto my toe, cutting it without my knowledge. I bled all over the bathroom for a while before I noticed. Sadly I never got the wine bottle open.

-For the second consecutive night we ended the night in the hottub watching the sunrise. Fortunately I was able to go home and sleep, but Tom had to rush to catch his 8 am flight back.

-I spent the next day wandering Vegas in a hungover/drunk stupor waiting for my evening flight, and when I finally got to the airport I found out that my flight delayed until at least 11pm. I managed to talk my way onto an earlier flight, which was sweet, until the pilot told us that our current plane had been delayed because a baggage cart had run into it and they needed to double-check everything. COMFORTING.

In addition there was some drunk ass lady who spent the entire flight home vomiting. At some point the smell was so bad that I kind of hoped the plane would crash. It didn't.


Man do I love Vegas, even if I will be trying to pay off this trip for about three months.

Fuck Me, yaknow?

Father forgive me, for I have not played Blogger in a month. This is a tragedy. And during this month, if you haven't noticed, the Colorado sports scene has gone to shit. Coincidence? Fuck the fuck no! God is punishing me for my idle hands and bringing the pain down more fierce than a PUNK*D K-Mart.

(Aside: Good to know JR Smiff is employing a driver that is so retarded he thinks it is a good idea to fuck with K-Mart. I bet this fuckwit drives down I-25 the wrong way at times just to spice things up? Maybe drag races cops? Shhhhhiiiiitttt, maybe JR should get that liscence back.)

I mean, look at the evidence. Since the lil' computer that could died after five years, shit has gone down. I can't talk or keep up on the world o' Sports at all anymore, and everything is now a big pile of FAIL:

A. T-Edy made so much fun of George Karl being lazy and not yelling that he gave him throat cancer. Good effing job. Now George Karl will never be able to yell again, not even as a ghost. So even if George dies and we have his spirit on the sidelines willing us on (ala The Sixth Man) he still won't be able to tell anyone what to do. He will be Gasper the motherfucking Coach, trying to mime in his secrets from beyond.

B. K-Mart is hurt. And not just his feelings. His knee. Fanfuckingtastic. Fortunetly I don't get Altitude, so I only get updates on my Iphizzle telling me how shitty the Nuggs are playing. Losing to the Knicks, goddamnfailtastical. 

C. The Avsalanche are pulling a Bronco.
Dear Calgary,
For Easter we would like to take this nice playoff spot that we spent six months scrambling to get and we'll just wrap it up and place it in your lap.
Sincerely,
The Avs.

P.S. We also just shit all over ourselves and the bed. No clean-up necessary.

Yes, the Avs have overachieved, but I wanted playoff hockey. VS is even back on InDirect TV (Rick Rielly-esque that was) and I might have been able to witness this crazy game of puck-wacking. Now, I will just have to bandwagon onto the Capitals, who will eventually crush my soul.

D. BRADY FUCKING QUINN!!! It wasn't bad enough to have to cheer for that Doucher Jay Cutler before, but now I'm supposed to get excited when this cockhole goes under center. How can I cheer for him? This is like cheering for the racist teams in "Remember the Titans" (or for Nasty, the reverse). The only people happy about this are girls, because he is dreamy. Great, so now we have Tony Homo Jr. competing with Jack Daniels Orton to see who can throw the ball to NOT-BRANDON MARSHALL. Ohhhhhh, I can't wait for that to happen.

-Two positives: 1) We got rid of Christy Simms. 2) Our QBs have yet to rape anyone this offseason.

E. NCAA Basketball: A great season ended with a wimper as we couldn't upset SDSU and then lost to Moorehead State (Kim Khardashian's alma mater, /sad trombone). And the 2nd greatest reality TV show of the year, "Reaching the Peak" is now over. AND MY GD Direct TV knock-off TIVO didn't record the final two episodes. When I might have been on TV because I was at the MWC Tourney (Vegas diary upcoming, don't fret).

And with four teams in the NCAA the MWC failed spectaculary. I was happy to see UNM lose, because the are the worst people in the world, but c'mon, someone needed to make the Sweet Sixteen. Now that there are going to be 96-teams we'll be lucky to get any teams to advance to the New-32? Yeah, great NCAA, now we have to come up with new names. How about the 64-Cash Whores.

F. Huson Street: The Rock of the Rock's pen is out for a while, which means the season will be a little rocky early with Franklin "Rocky" Morales rocking the closers role. You know what helps start a season out on the right foot? Blowing saves early. Based on my luck lately, I am fully prepared.

G. The Roomate went back to Colorado: I mean, he got a better job and now I get to move to the beach two months earlier than expected, but shit, it is never a good sign when a friend moves away. Who else can I play the Black History Drinking Game with?

H. USA Hockey: We lost to Canada. In an athletic competition. I'm still so pissed.


So my only hope is that returning to Blogzejikistan and airing these beefs I will have appeased the Elway-God and his faithful compainion JoeFoppa Sakberg with enough sacrifice, snark and whining to get them to right the ship (Goals: Eric Berry to Bronconation, Avs to playoffs, Nuggs finding D, Rocks not regressing to Hurdle-suck levels).

I promise to figure out ways to pump some blog onto your faces, even if you don't want it. Might as well just take Bobby Knight's advice on rape: just relax and enjoy it.