I’ll be in San Diego from May 15 thru June 20th, watching my daughters dogs while she is out of town for training. So if we can do something at either end, would be great.
See, now you’re trying to get me to pet some guy named Joshua. I knew this was a setup.
We haven’t killed anyone yet. Though @slowman did have to go rescue Jonas Colting once.
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I’d do Vegas. And I’ll bet @jimatbeyond’s guy could also set up a Zoom for anyone who couldn’t travel.
Oh well in that case… sign me up! Lol
If you fly in to Ontario (the real one in California), I may have space for a night at my house if my wife allows it.
I’m not a Vegas person and don’t gamble, but I do drink. Vegas may be the best option for the most here.
Not if you want me to attend
Scene Chez Windy
Windy: Hey Hon you okay with me flying to Vegas to meet my internet friends for the weekend. You and Breezy can have some quality one on one time.
Cut scene
ER
Windy in bed with cartoon bandages on head
Windy (a bit woozily) : Yeah doc I dodged the first frying pan, but I’m pretty sure that was a decoy because it was all clad and lighter. the cast iron one was the real one and is what got me. Hey you have WiFi here? I know some peeps that would find this hilarious
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Windy gets hit, windy sees stars…not birds…STARS!
I’m not a Vegas guy TBH. Never had any desire to go.
I went once on the way back from a family trip to the National Parks (RIP). We booked a big room with 2 huge beds for one night, it was pretty lux and the pools looked amazing. Within 15 seconds of walking in the door my 9 year old picked up and started shaking the $200 “intimacy kit” and my 12 year old had pulled $60 out of the minibar. The weight sensor charging system put them on our tab immediately. I sighed, dropped or bags and returned to the lobby to try to get the charges taken off. When the lift door opened the lobby (where I’d checked in <10 minutes prior), was fenced off with police tape and there were arterial blood sprays up the walls. I am also…not a fan.
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Don’t tell her you’re hanging out with internet buddies, tell her you’re attending the annual Las Vegas Adult Entertainment Expo.
OMG. Makes for a good story though.
My last trip to Vegas was to meet some friends and see Van Morrison in concert. Ended up with a Black Flag tattoo that I only vaguely remember getting. But I didn’t gamble. I did come back to the hotel room to find an expensive “thank you” bottle of wine and assorted cheese plate. The thank you was for having booked an upcoming wedding and reception. Dropped off at the wrong room.
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Which hotel?
Conrad at Resorts World.
See, that’s exactly the type of Vegas experience I would hope for.
The other weird thing was walking around with my kids - the aforementioned then 12 and 9 years olds plus my little girl. The casinos were fanatical about keeping them off the carpets that (I learned) designated gambling areas, which I guess was good. If I let any of them get more than 3 feet from me though a member of staff would scurry up and warn me about child traffickers, it happened 5 or 6 times in different venues. At the airport the staff pulled each of them aside and quizzed them about their relationship to me - first time it’s ever happened in my life. I couldn’t work out if Vegas is in fact the epicenter of a huge and openly acknowledged child trafficking ring or if the whole city had gone off the pizzagate deep end. Unsettling either way.
Just tell her the alternative is we all come and crash at chez windy for the weekend. She’ll upgrade your ticket to Vegas for you.
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Count me in for Vegas.
you remember that? rode up the wrong canyon in the dead of winter. but i applauded his adventurous spirit.
Yes. I believe that’s the same trip he and I drove up to Devil’s Punchbowl (he drove my truck) and ran up the trail about half a mile, then he threw me the keys and said he was going to run back to Xantusia and I should drive back (not knowing the way as this was my first trip). IIRC, he didn’t get back to the house until well after dark.
Or the time he and I went to ride up towards Lake Los Angeles and he kept telling me, “I am the professional; you are the age grouper.” Or all the times the womens embarassed Bjorn, who just wanted to sit quietly in the corner. Or the dinners with Neighbor Bob. Fun times!
No. And you don’t have that under control. That rubber disk is the flapper.
The fill valve in the thingy to the left of that (usually) that water comes and shuts off when the float gets to point that it turns off.
Hugs little buddy.