Bowling? Drunk? The?

Do I always speak with a drawl when I drink? I am that self-unaware?

Sean and I made our way to Vegas a couple weeks ago for the annual Punk Rock Bowling Tournament. We bowled with the always affable and mostly Canadian gentlemen from punknews.org, and finished somewhere between 97th and 192nd place. Not good. We did, however, find some time after our hopeless bowling performance to drunk dial not only Mr. Dickerson's Drunk Dial Hotline, but also his hotel room a mere 2 floors above our own. While Virgil's bowling team was equally as miserable as our own, he fared a bit better at the blackjack tables. Congrats to Epitaph for winning the tournament for the eight millionth time in a row, and congrats to Sean and myself for leaving the following drunk dials.

Sean's phone call
My phone call

Addendum

After that last post, we went on a six hour roulette binge at New York New York that led to me nearly falling asleep on the table and being asked to leave by the pit boss (thankfully not alcohol related). The lack of sleep during the week has officially ruined me.

Ten-Second Borrowed Laptop Vegas Post

Down 100 bucks, only slightly intoxicated, and we sat in the "dragon" section at Medieval Times (which means you get to root for the bad guy, who obviously never wins).

Yesterday I took 150 at craps and threw up on the monorail. I think I'm ready to go home.

I haven't checked my email or turned on my phone in 36 hours, and it feels pretty great.