Fremont street was SO FUN last night, you guys. I loved it. And you’ll be pleased to know that I killed Darth Vader, so, you know, we’re all safer now.
Today, we did a whole lot of lounging at the pool, and even though there were like 40,000 empty chairs around us, the most horrible couple decided to take the two IMMEDIATELY NEXT TO US, which meant that not only were we forced to endure their obnoxious chatter, but their cigarette smoke as well. Jerks.
I hated them, because the male in the couple was this fat, obnoxious greasy man with a heavy Queens accent, who obviously had just recently picked up the female in the couple who was from Russia, markedly more attractive than him, and totally uninterested in anything he had to say. And yet, he kept pestering her with questions and stories, all the while dripping Caesar sauce onto his own chest, regaling her with tales of his drunken adventures in the Hamptons, and just in general being one of those horrible men that you know is filthy rich simply because it’s all they can talk about, AND because they manage to hook up with women like the Russian chick, who clearly enjoy the money but hate everything else about the guy. HATE.
I took a photo of them to show you – all stealthlike. Note the Caesar sauce drip on his chest.
I love her swimsuit, and it would go really well with my leopard shoes. But I DID NOT APPRECIATE her smoking when we were elbow to elbow and there were 40,000 other chairs there.
ANYWAY. We went to the top of the Stratosphere after that, and watched all the crazy people ride the rides there, and then came back to do some napping, and now we’re trying to decide what to do for dinner.
It’s a rough life we’re leading here in Vegas.