{This is the 22nd entry in a recurring series that will only happen when I have consumed far too many spirits with my brother. Last night, we finished the Shiner Bock from the TX-OU game which triggered strange thoughts, candid insights and pure horseshit. Selah.}
* Anyone who farts inside a new car without asking permission should have their assholes cut out
* Texting while driving is far worse than talking while driving
* Inspirational sayings become even more ridiculous when you write them on a white board at work
* There are no good-looking stewardesses flying anymore - they're deader than dinosaurs
* Never wink at a woman unless you're being ironic, and even then it won't help you get laid
* There's a fine line between a playful slap and a crimson handprint on somebody's ass
* If you're older than 30 and eating Captain Crunch cereal, then you're probably stoned. 
* It's better to swim in your boxers than borrow another man's swimsuit
* The reason soccer is such a low-scoring game is because scoring a goal is rewarded by being gang-tackled and dry-humped by your entire team in the middle of the field
* "I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they wake up in the morning, that's as good as they're going to feel all day." - Frank Sinatra
-BDS
It can be a rather sleazy feeling to crack open your first Shiner Bock at 10:30 a.m. on a Saturday morning. 
My coffee pot had yet to turn off, but the beer had been icing in an oversized tub for more than an hour and kick-off for the Texas - Oklahoma football game was only 30 minutes away. These things happen. And while drinking all day can lead to horrible things, this game occurs only once a year and there was a crowd of people at my loft to join in the festivities.
I won't recount the details of the game except to say that is was phenomenal - and Texas won 45 - 35. 
Much like great sex, it was back and forth, up and down, fraught with wild momentum swings, and just when you thought it was over, another round was just waiting to begin. It was exhausting.
I can't imagine how it must have been for the actual players as I felt drained from eating barbecue brisket sandwiches and drinking beer while alternately yelling at Sooner players and accusing them of cheating, dirty play and inbreeding.
Hats were thrown in anger, and hands slapped in joy. The language ranged from guttural to slanderous and fuck was used as a noun, verb and adjective again and again with cocksucker taking a respectable second place.
It wasn't civilization at its finest moment, however, I would argue that it was a heavily cathartic activity because bottling up anger can lead to tooth decay and hemorrhoids. I swear I read that in a medical journal somewhere. 
The only problem with drinking that early is that once the game ended around 2:30 p.m. I was ready to be sober, and you're locked into feeling sideways with a large portion of the day still to go.
My memory is slightly hazy from that point onward, but I do remember making it to a Greek place for dinner and being unable to comprehend the menu choices as the waiter had a fairly thick accent, although I did somehow refrain from shrugging my shoulders and saying "just bring me the special because it's all Greek to me." But I thought about it.
Anyway, I'm now feeling mostly human again on Monday morning, and although it was a fine day on Saturday, I'm glad it doesn't happen too often anymore unless scientists can get off their collective asses and mass market a hangover cure.
-BDS
"I wanna bleach your nipples and slap you in the face" - Nick Swardson, "You Don't Mess With the Zohan"
That was probably the funniest line in that film. Disturbing, but funny.
Oh well, I'll take the laughs since it's Friday. I need to finish work so I can begin preparations to have people over to watch the TX-OU football game tomorrow, which means a bit of cleaning but more importantly digging out beer tubs, buying plenty of Shiner and putting in a large order of barbecue.
Before that occurs, however, let's look at the hard stories of the week such as:
Miley Cyrus celebrated her 16th birthday party at an over-the-top Disneyland celebration Sunday — even though she doesn't actually turn 16 until Nov. 23. The theme park was closed for the supersized soiree, which included a four-song performance by the teen queen and a fireworks display above Sleeping Beauty Castle and 16 giant inflatable candles.
"My parents shut down Disneyland for me, so I'm good for a while," Cyrus said.
Miley might be "good" until her actual birthday, and she is reportedly demanding that the entire state of California shut down to honor the occasion.
Howard Stern married model Beth Ostrosky last weekend at posh New York restaurant Le Cirque.
The wedding was attended by loads of fellow celebrities, including Donald Trump, Billy Joel, Barbara Walters, Sarah Silverman, Jimmy Kimmel, Joan Rivers and Stern’s radio sidekicks Robin Quivers, Artie Lang and Gary “Baba Booey” Dell’Abate.
Kelly Ripa’s hubby, former soap star Mark Consuelos, an ordained minister, married the couple. “The night was perfect. Mark Consuelos was the greatest rev on the face of the earth,” Ostrosky, 36, said. 
Unfortunately, Stern failed to invite a bevy of lesbian strippers to paddle each other and make-out during the reception, however, he stated that "I don't want to spoil Monday's radio show."
David Duchovny is out of sexual rehab.
Larry Stein, the lawyer of the “Californication” star tells Access Hollywood the actor has “successfully” completed rehab for sex addiction.
I'm happy for Duchnovny, however, sexual rehab is one test that I would love to fail miserably.
Esquire bestowed Halle Berry with the 2008 title of the "Sexiest Woman Alive" in their November issue this week.
"Sexiness is a state of mind — a comfortable state of being," Berry said. 
Sexiness is also mainly about looking like Halle Berry.
A fire at Nick Nolte's home in Malibu, California gutted his living room on Tuesday, but the actor escaped with minor injuries after trying to douse the flames with a garden hose, officials said.
"Nick Nolte was there apparently with a water hose trying to extinguish the fire himself and of course we came to help him out," Inspector James Barnes said.
The "Tropic Thunder" star suffered smoke inhalation and minor abrasions in the fire.
The smoke inhalation was actually suffered from the joint that Nolte was smoking when firefighters arrived at the scene.
Hugh Hefner lost a girlfriend this week as both Hef and Holly Madison, one of E!'s "The Girls Next Door," confirmed they are no longer dating.
"If Holly says it's over, I guess it's over," Hefner said in a telephone interview Wednesday. "She's still here in the house. Until a few days ago, we were still sharing the same bed."
Something tells me that Hef won't find it too difficult to discover another blonde Bunny with fake boobs to fill that bed - he just has to walk outside to grab the morning newspaper and six will hop into his lap.
Britney Spears will go on trial for driving without a license next week rather than accept a plea deal her lawyer says is too harsh.
Spears rejected an agreement that would have seen the pop star plead guilty to a misdemeanor, pay $150 fine and served 12 months' probation, said lawyer J. Michael Flanagan. He suggested Spears was receiving tougher treatment than non-celebrity defendants.
"It should be an infraction. It's kind of mind-boggling that they want to convict her of a misdemeanor," Flanagan said.
Flanagan also said it was unfair because "Britney was so stoned on various substances that she doesn't even remember the incident, and therefore it didn't actually happen."
But let's not end with law and order and instead go with a gold image(s):
I just felt like doubling up today, and couldn't resist a little extra nourishment for the soul. So, don't be afraid to push the envelope, remember that sometimes one is never enough and . . . Happy Friday!
-BDS
In a few short hours, I will say goodbye to my old friend - The TT - and turn him over to find a new home. 
I've made my peace with this decision. It needed to be done, and I only hope he finds an owner who will enjoy him as much as I have these past seven years.
But you cannot live in the past. It's time to release those feelings and replace them with a growing excitement over my next car . . . The Infiniti G37 Coupe.
This is the exact exterior color, although the interior is darker - graphite to be exact - than the picture. Still, I was thrilled from the moment I sat inside this vehicle through the test drive and beyond.
It's got 2 doors and 4 seats. It has 330 horsepower. It has a navigation system that is sure to confound me since I've never messed with one before yet it will guide me home in a stern but sexy female voice if I ever get so twisted that I forget my way.
The inside is like a spaceship as it has a key-less start/stop button, a hard drive that will store 220 CDs, an Ipod connector, heated seats, sunroof, voice-activated Bluetooth cell phone dialing and a bunch of other stuff I have no idea how to use. I'm required to spend an hour today going over all the functions by an Infiniti trainer when I pick it up today.
I'll make the time.
The ride is fast. It has a smooth acceleration that picks up steam like a graceful leopard as it runs past traffic. 
Stanley certainly approved the purchase as just sitting in the comfortable seats and gazing at the interior put him at half-mast, and once the G37 is in motion, he could fully take over and drive the steering wheel while I use my hands to work the paddle shifters (it has both automatic and a quasi-stick choice for driving).
But I think I'll keep my actual hands at 10 and 2 for a little bit until I get used to the car. It's safer this way and might keep my insurance rates at a reasonable level. We'll see.
In the interim, I've got work to do so I can disappear for a few hours at lunch. I'm simply happy that my mood has shifted from sadness to excitement as the latter is always the best route to take if you can find it.
-BDS
Worth Full-Price, Matinee or Rental: Matinee or rental. You won't be too disappointed to pay matinee prices for this one, however, it fits the criteria of an excellent rental as well, which is probably the best choice.
Will I Own It On DVD: Doubtful. Maybe if I ever found it in the Best Buy $4.99 bin, then I might pick it up. 
1) If you're in a relationship, then you will make movie trade-offs, and since the next film I'm going to see is "Body of Lies" with Russell Crowe and Leonardo DiCaprio blowing things up, shooting guns and likely a bit of torture, anyone who has a problem with "Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist" can piss off in the interim.
Now, back to "Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist" . . .
2) I do occasionally enjoy checking in on teen movies to see if they compare to classics such as "The Breakfast Club," "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" and "Better Off Dead." When they are done well, this genre provides a fair glimpse at teenage life in that particular time period which can be semi-interesting the further you get away from those years.
"Nick and Norah" is a solid addition to this genre as it boasts an appealing cast, and an endearing - if overly familiar - story about finding someone special during one long night in the city when things are going sideways.
3) I loved Michael Cera in the TV show "Arrested Development" (possibly the funniest sitcom ever made) and really enjoyed his work in "Superbad," however, his shtick of awkward pauses and sheepish minimalism is starting to wear just a little bit. You can still root for him to succeed in "Nick and Norah," but I'm ready for him to get more assertive with his acting.
Kat Dennings plays the cool, indie-music loving catalyst who meets Cera and causes him to re-think whether he wants to get back together with his ex-girlfriend. Dennings has a casually intelligent presence that is neither too glib or too sentimental and she turns in a fine performance that helps propel the movie along.
4) Since a large portion of the film is set inside New York City music clubs, it's no surprise that the soundtrack is impressive. I'm generally not particularly impressed with the hipster music scene, but the score for the movie was pretty good.
5) "Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist" gets better as it goes along, and reaches the conclusion. The film starts off a bit heavy-handed, and falls into a trap of telling and not showing the audience the character traits of the protagonists. It's one thing for characters to say repeatedly "You're the coolest chick" or "You're perfect," but the movie really finds its footing as it progresses and those characteristics are shown through action and dialogue. 
Overall, "Nick and Norah" is a nice film that doesn't try to do too much, yet also avoids or at least minimizes the clichés of this genre. And while it doesn't vault itself into the upper ranks of these films, it does remind you that searching all night for a band, locating a drunk friend and trying to hook up are still entertaining.
-BDS
"The point is boys, even though I loved having sex with some hot random trim, a day hasn't gone by where I haven't thought of Tashonda. Every time I see a bag of Hershey kisses, my balls get so wet," - Neil Patrick Harris, "Harold and Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay"
Love takes many forms I suppose, and I'm feeling passionate about the fact that today is Friday. The sun is shining and it's finally in the low 90s in Austin, so I plan to take advantage this weekend by test driving cars.
But before that happens, let's take a look at the week that was:
Heather Locklear was arrested Sunday on suspicion of driving under the influence of a controlled substance in Santa Barbara.
Locklear, 47, was pulled over by a California Highway Patrol officer Saturday afternoon after a resident reported seeing the actress leaving a parking lot and "driving erratically," patrol spokesman Tom Marshall said.
"In talking with her, (the officer) determines that she seems to be under the influence of something," Marshall said.
The officer knew Locklear was drunk when she keep requesting directions to "Melrose Place."
Scarlett Johansson and Ryan Reynolds were married last weekend in Canada.
Publicist Meredith O'Sullivan confirmed that the couple was married, but she declined to provide further details. Us Weekly reported that the small wedding took place at a resort outside Vancouver, British Columbia. Guests included Scarlett's mother, Melanie Sloan, and her brother, Adrian Johansson, the magazine said.
My invitation must have been lost in the mail, which is probably a good thing because I would have been weeping uncontrollably with the knowledge that Johansson was off the market.
Janet Jackson was taken to the hospital and released this week after the singer "got suddenly ill during the sound check" of her concert in Montreal Monday.
Jackson, 42, postponed her Wednesday show in Boston and Thursday in Philadelphia due to the mystery illness.
I'm betting that mystery illness can be mainly attributed to low ticket sales.
Kevin Costner announced that he will release his first country music album this November, says People magazine.
While his musical aspirations may come as a bit of a surprise to some, Costner has been playing music with some of his Modern West band mates for nearly 20 years, he tells People.
"I remember looking into the crowd, thinking, 'This just feels right,'" he previously said about performing with his band.
Costner recalled thinking the same thing about "Waterworld" and "The Postman," so I would keep expectations low for this musical effort.
A judge who revoked Sharon Stone's custody of her son cited some odd medical advice in the court records which included Botox injection's for the child's feet.
In the documents, a judge writes, "the testimony of Father, Mother and Dr. Lee indicated that Mother appears to overreact to many medical issues involving [the child]." As an example, the court wrote that Sharon believed that her son suffered from a spinal illness when there was "no evidence to support this allegation." The court also noted that Sharon wanted to get Botox injections for her son to deal with foot odor, while his father suggested wearing socks with shoes and using foot deodorant.
Stone also suggested Botox shots for the child's buttocks when he farted, but she ended up using them on herself instead.
Paris Hilton released a new music single this week - "My BFF" - on the same day the reality TV program "Paris Hilton's My New BFF" first aired on MTV.
The show -- a search for a new "best friend forever" who is hot, loyal and has the energy to keep up with Hilton's hectic lifestyle -- inspired the techno song Hilton said she co-wrote with her boyfriend Benji Madden of rock band Good Charlotte.
"Could you be the one I want? Could you be the one I need?" the millionaire socialite croons on "My BFF." "All of my life, don't you know I've been waiting ... for my best friend."
All my life I've been waiting for Paris Hilton to be eaten by cannibals, however, I'm losing hope this will happen.
Per usual, let's end with a gold image like:
I occasionally enjoy sitting and staring into space in my underwear too. So, don't bother getting fully dressed, remember there is no shame in deep thinking and . . . Happy Friday!
-BDS
Some people view cars as a necessary evil, a transportation method thrust upon them and one that brings only misery and rarely joy.
I don't fall into that mode of thinking. I have loved every car that I've owned or been given, which to this point has been exactly 3 vehicles. I started with a Toyota Celica when I turned 16, and got a newer version at the end of college.
For the past seven years, however, I've been driving an Audi TT Roadster. This is coming to an end. I can no longer trust my old friend, and once that trust is broken, then the fun stops rather quickly.
At a bare minimum, I have to spend $3,000 on known repairs over the next 6 months, and my clutch has also been going for the past year which would push that price tag closer to $6,000. And I'm sure there are other problems lurking greedily like Rosie O'Donnel at a chocolate chip cookie bake-off. 
So I am starting to say goodbye to my car, and begin the final days of our relationship. It's a little sad.
I learned to drive my first stick shift with this car (2 days after purchasing it). It was my first convertible. And I managed to perform certain acts not seen outside of a Cirque de Soilel show in this two-seater, feats of contortion that I'll also miss, but which should probably be retired lest I pull something important.
My favorite times occurred when it finally cooled off in Texas. When the temperature outside was around 55 degrees, I would drop the top, turn on the heated seats and crank the CD player as I blasted through curves like a silver gremlin out far too late.
There were no speed limits on those nights - at least none that I obeyed - and the only thing I wanted was a few more hours and another curve in the road.
The fastest I ever pushed the TT was up to 112 mph on a two-lane blacktop road in rural Oklahoma en route to my grandparent's house. That was fun.
But there were lots of fun times that I associate with the car, which is the main reason I tend to recall my automobiles with fondness - they all represent certain periods of time where events, people and music become associated and entwined with the vehicle when you drive as much as I do.
I suppose it's time for a new car as I've been moving in a different direction these past few years, and I need something different to meet these new experiences. I'll be excited soon enough as I've got a few vehicles in mind which cause Stanley to perk up and take notice, however, I'll be disappointed to see my old friend moving on down the road.
-BDS
Day Three of the Austin City Limits music festival is largely an endurance test. 
This test is becoming increasingly difficult with each passing year as moving among 65,000 people while drinking ice-hold Heineken in the hot sun and wolfing down chopped beef sandwiches to maintain energy is a young man's game. It's still a damn good time, however, there are periodic moments when the body rebels against standing for hours each day despite the quality of the music.
And the quality was just fine this year as I saw excellent sets from bands like Vampire Weekend, Ryan Bingham, Robert Earl Keen, Iron and Wine, John Fogerty, Allison Kraus and Robert Plant, and Beck among others. 
I just wish that somebody else could inhabit my body for work today. It still feels depleted and dehydrated, sun-weary and stomped and could use to stay at home to catch up on football scores versus stepping into the end of quarter craziness at work. Selah.
But these things happen and the only way to avoid them is to remain on the sidelines, which is an area I loathe to be found.
My brother and I were in the thick of things on Saturday as the festival really picks up steam with large crowds from opening until closing. After viewing so much flesh on display, we both agreed that hooking up at the end of a music festival would have to be one of the nastiest romps you could find.
Each participant would have already sweated through their clothes a dozen times over, and even if you were only wearing a bikini top and little else, your skin would taste like a salt lick and smell like rotting cheese. You certainly would have been forced to visit the port-a-pots at least three times by this point and so your hygiene levels would also be questionable at best.
This does not scream sexy no matter what appendages were being flaunted.
Only a college freshman would have the energy and lack of discretion to attempt the festival hook-up, and they are never a good litmus test because a fair portion would screw a rabid grizzly bear if it would sit still long enough. 
But I don't have time to ponder the fucking of large woodland animals this morning as I have work to do, information to send and status meetings galore. The festival was great, but I wish it included Monday as a vacation day.
Since that isn't true, a pot of coffee will have to suffice.
-BDS
"I don't give a shit what those pinkos over in Russia say. You want to be a loser - you go live in Russia," Paul Gleason, "Johnny Be Good"
I miss Gleason as that guy was hilarious and a fine character actor. Regardless, my spirits are high today as I have to slug through work before cutting out early and heading for the Austin City Limits music festival. This 3-day weekend is an endurance test, however, it should be a fine time filled with bands, beer and port-a-pots (don't care for that last one).
Before I head south towards Zilker Park, however, let's look at the hard stories of the week such as:
Pop star George Michael was arrested for possession of drugs (again).
The Sunday People newspaper said Michael, 45, was arrested in a public toilet in the north London suburb of Hampstead after being found in possession of crack cocaine and marijuana.
A spokesman for the Metropolitan police said: "I can confirm that a 45-year-old man was arrested on September 19 on suspicion of possession of drugs in the Hampstead Heath area."
I can confirm that man was George Michael, and that George Michael will be caught with drugs again in a public restroom and the only real question is whether another man will be involved as Michael generally likes to mix his pleasures.
Britney's little sister, Jamie Lynn Spears, is now reportedly the focus of a federal pornography investigation as TMZ reported that someone has attempted to sell pictures of Jamie Lynn breast-feeding her baby girl - and one of the photos shows Jamie Lynn's bare breast. Spears is a minor.
The photos were developed at a Louisiana Wal-Mart. 
I feel bad for Spears in this case, but I bet the odds are high the breast-feeding pictures were taken of Spears inside a Wal-Mart - or Kentucky Fried Chicken.
David Blaine ended his latest stunt in New York this week amid claims he reneged on his pledge to hang upside down for 60 hours.
The 35-year-old magician was hoisted by his heels over the Wollmann ice rink in New York on Monday, stating he would remain that way until Wednesday night. However, he was seen taking regular breaks on his feet to drink liquids, urinate and undergo medical checks before ending the stunt with a "dive of death" off a 44 foot platform.
Blaine shrugged off criticism during the stunt, telling one interviewer that he was "not going to pee all over myself". 
Personally, I have never understood Blaine's appeal and wouldn't mind if somebody shit on his chest.
Pregnant former porn star Jenna Jameson learned this week that she is expecting twins with her partner, Ultimate Fighting Champion Tito Ortiz, according to Perez Hilton. the mother of twins.
"They're having twins," a friend of the superstar told the celebrity blogger. "Jenna and Tito just found out. They are beyond thrilled!"
I'm glad they're thrilled because I have been ecstatic about Jameson's "twins" for years and years and years.
Clay Aiken finally confirmed that he is indeed gay this week as the cover of the latest People magazine shows Aiken holding his infant son, Parker Foster Aiken, with the headline: "Yes, I'm Gay." 
Shocking. You could have knocked me down with a feather.
In other coming out news, Lindsay Lohan has finally confirmed the worst-kept secret of the year: she and constant companion Samantha Ronson are a couple.
The confession came on Monday night's episode of the "Loveline" radio show, when Lohan was pressed about her relationship with Ronson and asked how long they have been "together." "For a very long time," Lohan replied.
When asked how long it's been between credible acting jobs, Lohan also replied "a very long time."
Entertainment Tonight" obtained a court order this week which confirmed that Sharon Stone has lost physical custody of her 8-year-old son Roan, despite her court pleas to change the arrangement.
According to court documents, Phil Bronstein "shall have permanent sole physical custody of child. Court finds that Respondent (Sharon Stone) failed to meet her burden of proof and denies Respondent's (Sharon Stone's) request for modification of custody. The judge also notes this order is permanent unless there is a change of circumstances."
Reasons for the decision were murky, however, Stone's decision-making abilities were repeatedly called into question when Bronstein's lawyers screened "Basic Instinct 2" for the judge.
As always, let's end on a high note with: 
I never feel shame while standing alone in the dark holding a balloon. So, follow your own path, feel free to dim the lights and use some helium and Happy Friday!
-BDS
My contacts feel glued to my eyeballs and every piece of clothing I own smells like smoke. When I do close my eyes, I can still hear the sounds of the casino - chips being stacked, dice being flung and especially the slot machines with their tilt-a-whirl cadence which somehow remains a happy tune despite the mechanical arm movements and glazed expressions of virtually every player.
It was definitely time to leave Las Vegas. 
Five days in Vegas is like staying two weeks in a normal city. I was ready to flee by day three, which is the maximum allotment that anyone should actually remain inside the city limits or at least those imposed by the glitzy Vegas hotel strip.
Even recent transplants to the city echoed these feelings. My cab driver, who delivered me from the airport to the Palazzo hotel, shook his head in disgust when I told him about my plans. He bitterly recounted his decision to move from San Diego to Vegas after one wild weekend convinced him that he needed to live in Sin City on a full-time basis.
He was wrong. And he bemoaned his choice during our 20-minute drive before dropping me at the front doors and then screeching off to pick up the next tourist.
My waiter at the Grand Luxe café had recently left Austin with his wife, and was still settling into the sea change. When he saw my driver's license was registered in Austin, he nearly misted up and then straightened his posture and did concede that once you got off the Strip then "Vegas wasn't quite so terrible."
Personally, I enjoy Vegas in small doses.
It has an insistent vitality that demands action. Unfortunately, that same action typically involves indulging in vices like pouring booze down your neck, gambling, dancing, decadent meals, strip clubs, poolside lounging and staying out until 3 a.m. doing all of the above. It is far from a restful vacation.
If you don't believe it, then simply watch the people departing from the Vegas airport on a Sunday afternoon. It is an ugly sight of burst capillaries, busted dreams and sunburns.
But before I found myself fleeing the city in dark sunglasses and a lighter wallet, I did have a pretty damn good time. The suite at the Palazzo was stellar as I was on the 39th floor with mountain views, 3 flat-screen TVs including one in the bathroom, and an aerial vantage point to watch the fireball fight at Treasure Island every night. 
{View From Suite Window}
I wished I could have stayed inside more often, but the first part of the week found me working a trade-show, an event which brings with it a peculiar brand of brute ugliness. It's also semi-amazing how standing on your feet all day long can absolutely wreck your body.
Once my wife joined me, however, I was able to shed any work obligations and simply take in the Vegas spectacle. We drank at swank bars inside the Bellagio, Palazzo and Wynn hotels, ate several outstanding meals, hit the Canyon Ranch spa, saw the white tigers at the Mirage, and finally caught a Circue de Soleil show (which was fairly exceptional). 
The only problem was the price tag as virtually everything on the Strip is semi-outlandish. The best free show we found was walking through the nicer hotels around 1 a.m. and trying to spot all the hookers. This was remarkably easy, although to be fair, a lot of people dress like professional working girls when they hit the Vegas city limits without accepting any cash.
When I wasn't taxing my credit cards on meals and drinks, I managed to lose at both Blackjack and sports gambling as I took my worst Vegas beating to date. Luckily, this didn't include a baseball bat attack like a Martin Scorcese picture, but it is still painful to drop $50 in five minutes when your dealer catches a run of cards that always total 21. 
But now I'm back in Austin and trying to reacclimate to normal hours and activities. There are far fewer prostitutes running amok and I don't find myself inside massive buildings in the perpetual twilight that you find in every Las Vegas casino.
I won't say it wasn't fun, but a return to normalcy does have its merits.
-BDS
