Wait, What?
Just to give you a sense of the completely bizarre and random things that keep me awake at night . . .
While in Vegas we went to see Le Rêve.
“Le Rêve” is a French word that translates to “The Dream.” Ok, cool. The show was all a dream.
However, what has been bothering me is that the stage for the performance is essentially a big pool. Water, water, everywhere.
Doesn’t that then make the production “The Wet Dream?”
I feel kinda weird about seeing it now.
Overheard at the Airport
Voice over intercom: Attention travelers, a piece of jewelry was left at the security checkpoint. A piece of jewelry for the belly button was left at the security checkpoint. If your belly button is bare, you need to return to the security checkpoint to pick up your jewelry.
Stupid, Stupid, Stupid
I’m about thirty-six hours away from heading out to the airport and beginning my long trade show adventure. So what am I doing today?
Laundry?
Cleaning?
Packing?
Why no, because any of those options might make sense. No, because I will likely be away from my computer for five days, I am smack in the middle of screwing around with my blog design. Something that is going to take a hell of a lot more time than I actually have right now.
And I haven’t started packing yet.
Sometimes my own brilliance astounds me.
Hookers and Gamblers and Showgirls, Oh My!
That’s right, folks. In just a few short days I’ll be rising before the ass crack of dawn to catch my Southwest Airlines five and a half hour nonstop flight to sunny Las Vegas. In anticipation of this momentous event, I give you the top ten responses I’ve gotten from people since sharing the news of my upcoming trip:
10. Las Vegas? Like that place on CSI?
9. You mean I’ll have to remember to feed the cats?
8. You’re going for work, eh? You need help?
7. Always double down on eleven.
6. Hey, isn’t prostitution legal there?
5. If you see Elvis, tell him I say hi.
4. Yeah, it’s the desert, but it’s a dry heat.
3. You’re going to Vegas? Yeah? You suck.
2. Could you bring me back a showgirl?
And the number one thing I’ve been hearing since revealing my travel plans (and good God, please stop singing this to me):
1. Viva Las Vegas!
Babysitter for Hire
Little Sister (9 years old, fresh from religion class): Stace, do you know you can’t say “Oh my G-O-D?” Cause that’s bad.
Brother (21 years old): Oh my God!
Little Sister: No! You can’t say that. That’s bad!
Brother: Oh my God!
Little Sister: Stop! You can’t say that!
Brother: Fine. Jesus fucking Christ.