I'm back from our thumbing-our-nose-at-the-holidays trip to Vegas. It was fun. And fast.
No one cares what we did, so I'll save the recap for my own memories.
Did we win money? Well, some. Did we come home with money? Well, no. I hit a few small jackpots (a couple royal flushes, for a grand each, some other video poker wins), but no hand-pays. I like a hand pay. We never got ahead enough between the 2 of us to be able to stash it away. Mr. Anderson was on a loo-zing streak like we've rarely had before. But he was tenacious and would not give up. Much to my dismay. At one point I gave him $500 more dollars and told him, "Don't find me."
So we were both equal losers at the end. Although we rode in on First Class, and rode back home in First Class, too. We're going to be stylin' in our arrivin'-in, now matter what city it be.
I should be a rapper. Maybe in my next life. I've got a natural ability to rhyme. Agreed?
Okay, that's it. I've got laundry to be a laundry-ing. The kitties threw up on our comforter during our absence. It was good times to come home to that.
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