I’m out of here today for a long weekend in Vegas, so there will be no new posts until Tuesday.
I know what you’re thinking, by the way, and you’re wrong. You’re thinking, “Damn that lucky Kurt, partying the weekend away in the modern day Sodom and Gomorrah!†That’s because you think of Vegas like I used to think of Vegas — the place with the running tap of Jack and cokes, blackjack or hold ‘em at 3 a.m., and maybe even a little time spent at the OG.
Now, Vegas is where my in-laws live. Vegas is now the place I go to listen to my wife’s parents tell me what a great choice I made, where I sit on the couch and try to watch television to avoid talking to people, and where I end up sitting next to the crazy uncle at dinner talking about how those planes keep spraying us.
Once you have in-laws in Vegas it sucks the fun right out of the city, even torturing you because you know how close the fun is but you can’t get there. In-laws turn Vegas into Bakersfield.