What Happens In Vegas.......

Yes, That's Our Hotel. And Yes,
We Had To Walk A Mile To Get Out Of It

I know that the 'not so new' Las Vegas motto is 'What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas'. And I also know that, at this particular point in time, it's impossible to tell anyone that you're going to Las Vegas without them somehow working that motto into your conversation. (Go on, tell someone that you're going to Vegas. I bet you hear some form of "What happens in Vegas....." within 17 seconds) But the truth is, that when you're almost 30, and you're happily married, and you have 5 kids, and because of those 5 kids you value sleep more than chocolate flavored gold, and you're only going to Las Vegas for 2 days, and your wife's company is footing the bill, and you have to attend a banquet with the president of your wife's company.....well, you can pretty much bring back anything that happened in Vegas. I mean, sure, Rach is probably a little embarrassed, and wouldn't want me to tell you about how after we got out of our Cirque Du Soleil show at 11:15, we went back to the room to take, as she called it, a 'Nappity Nap' for a minute before we went out and partied all night. The only problem with that is that the 'Nappity Nap' lasted 10 1/2 hours. And yes, there are some things that I'd like to keep to myself too. Like how I lost $100 on the first night, and after that Rach, in her words, "refused to let me throw away any more of our kids' college fund". That's right. She held on to our money tighter than the skin on Cher's face. (I'm trying to throw in a few Las Vegas jokes here. Bear with me.) But really, I would've had an easier time squeezing a nickel out of Wayne Newton's pants. (Don't ask. He wears tight pants, okay.) Rach was being so frugal, she told me 'NO' so many times, I had to check to make sure we weren't at a David Copperfield show (Oooohhh, Alright. That's enough Las Vegas jokes. I'm done.)

But honestly, I was just happy to be able to make the trip. Up until late last week, I was seriously considering staying home. I was even wondering if we were going to make the trip right up until the night before we left, when I was at the laundromat at midnight; washing 13 loads of clothes before we left, because, as stated in the last post, our washing machine is broken. And by the way, if you can avoid it, don't ever go to a laundromat at midnight on a Monday night. There's nothing good going on there. And you can categorize all of the people there into 3 distinct groups:

1. Crazy People - i.e. people muttering to themselves, people dressed up as pirates, people washing way too many comforters (Really? You HAD to wash 7 comforters on a Monday night? Why? What's the rush? Ran out of body disposal bags?).

2. Mexicans - No need to elaborate here. Lots of Mexicans. And it's okay for me to generalize. My wife looks Puerto Rican.

3. Crazy Mexicans - These are the Mexicans that stare at you a little too long, or they are a little too interested in your soap, or they sing songs in Spanish while slowly nodding their head up and down.

My advice is to make sure that your washing machine never breaks. Just trust me on this one.

Anyway, It was a logistical nightmare organizing who was going to take care of the kids while we were gone. And I'll be honest, Rach did all of the legwork for this. Because when it comes to organizing and planning for babysitters, I'm about as useful as a busty Siegfried and Roy assistant backstage after the show. (Get it? They're gay, so what would they do with a busty chick baskstage?) But Rach called in a bunch of favors, and we were just barely able to pull it off. So a huge 'Thank You' goes out to Rebecca, Laura, Max, Amanda, Chris, and everyone else who helped us out. We love yall, and thanks for allowing us go to Vegas. As a token of our gratitude, and in order to make sure your efforts were not done in vain; we tried to have as much fun as humanly possible, and experience as much of Las Vegas as we could. So here are some of the pictures of our journey:

Here's one of Rach and I in our hotel in front of a giant ball of water. As you'll see, this was one of the less interesting things that we did......

For instance, at the Blue Man Group show, they pulled me out of the audience to perform on stage with them (They didn't have any extra makeup. I asked)......


And then Rach randomly ran into Ben Affleck at one of the bars in Mandalay Bay. He chased his shot of Patron with her bottle of water......


That seemed like it might be the craziest thing that we would encounter, but then as I was sitting down, waiting for Rach to finish shopping, Julia Roberts came up to me and started chatting with me about my plaid shorts.....


Things took an ugly turn for the worse, though. I got pretty upset when we went to the Palms, and Rach was spending a little bit TOO much time in Hef's bed......


So naturally, I tried to make her jealous by biting Jenna Jameson's boob......


This plan backfired, though, because a little while later she molested The Rock to get back at me.......


Which led to me doing some things with Jessica Simpson and the American Flag that I'm not especially proud of......


And then this is when I think Rach took these petty little games too far. And I couldn't believe that Clooney would do this to me........


But, not to be outdone......







After each of us illegally married George Clooney, we went our separate ways to let off some steam. She vented by performing with Britney Spears......


And singing with Beyonce........


And I vented by taking my aggression out on Shaq.......



And by catching passes from Joe Montana (It was weird finding him there with his old San Francisco jersey on. I guess he just can't let go of the game. It's actually kind of sad, really.)........


And to be completely honest, if it weren't for our tickets to the Siegfried and Roy show later that night, I'm not sure Rach and I would've ever seen each other again. Here's a picture of Rach with Roy's tiger after the show......


She was a little skeptical at first, but I kept telling her, "Closer. Just get a little bit closer. I want to get a good picture. C'mon, she's not going to hurt you. She's a tamed animal. Like a big giant kitten. It's not like she's ever bit Siegfried, right?" But then I accidentally sneezed.......


After Rach got mauled by the Giant White Tiger, I felt pretty bad. I wanted to bury the hatchet, but I wasn't sure how. So I sought advice from some other people who were as talented and influential as I am.......Dubya told me to just stay the course, and to never admit that I was wrong.......



Ahnold told me to be strong, to always stand like this, and to make sure that she, "GEETTS DOOWWN!!"


Indiana suggested that I use my whip more. I'm not so sure he understood what I was talking about. But maybe he did.......


The Duke told me to hobble up to her, lift up my cowboy hat, and just say, "Ma'am".....


But in the end, I fittingly took The King's advice. He told me to slap on some shades, grow out my sideburns, hike up one side of my lip, shake my hips a little bit, and say, "Uhh-Huhh".


Surprisingly, The King's advice worked. Although I'm not sure if it had more to do with his advice, or the fact that Rach, while recovering from her neck wound, was soliciting advice for herself. Lincoln suggested that we go see a play together......


The Kennedys told her to always remain faithful, and not to lose one's head......


And Princess Di told her to try to see the light at the end of the tunnel......


So by the end of the trip, all had been forgiven. We went back to our lives like nothing ever happened. But you already know that, because "What Happens In Vegas, Stays in Vegas." (Geez, I hate that saying even when I'm making fun of it.)