Best.Day.Ever.

Saturday was, without a doubt, the Best.Day.Ever. (Periods.required.for.emphasis.) With Amy back in town, I knew things could only go from better to best, so we made plans to get lunch at Patty's burritos on Saturday at noon, assuming that after the burritos we would sit around my apartment and try to entertain ourselves.

While we were in line for burritos, Michael called and asked if we wanted to go see Hamlet 2, which we definitely did. Amy and I brought extra burritos back to the Kremlin and then we all went to go see the movie.

Hamlet 2 had been hyped up a lot (mostly by me) and while it wasn't a disappointment, my mind wasn't exactly blown either. I thought it ranged the gamut from hilarious to bizarre to boring, but I'm glad I went and saw it. Kevin predicts that the original song "Rock Me Sexy Jesus" will win an Oscar, and I wouldn't be surprised since it's been stuck in my head non-stop since I heard it. Furthermore, I think it inspires religious tolerance since, even as an atheist, the song inspires me to a heretofore unexperienced appreciation of Jesus.

After the movie we all went bowling, which was amazing. Usually I am a pretty mediocre bowler, and though I didn't exactly make new records, I bowled well enough. My friends are amazing bowlers, and continue to inspire me to break 100. After the bowling we were hungry, and went to the village for dinner, and afterward we made the fateful decision to play basketball. We drove to Amy's house so she could change, then to my apartment so I could change. While standing around at the Kremlin waiting for Michael, my friends and I decided it was time to go to Vegas. right then. Despite the fact that it was already eight o'clock. When Michael re-appeared he easily agreed, and we booked a hotel room downtown and were on the road immediately. While in the village hitting up the ATM I almost got myself hit by a car, but I'm not going to elaborate on that because it was the scariest thing ever.

We made it to Las Vegas a little after midnight and went straight to gambling and drinking. Michael and I were both a little unsuccessful at blackjack, so we left Kevin and Amy to their winnings and wandered off to play slots. An employee of the casino recommended we play the "Wizard of Oz" slot, and while I was a little doubtful at first, it turned out to be amazing. The seats of the slot machine are wired with intense speakers so, from time to time, Glenda the good witch would pop out on screen and "take you to oz" with a lot of fanfare and circumstance. Whenever she appeared, the seat would play music so loud that it would rumble your head, disorienting you to a surprinsing degree. Unfortunately, however, despite all the drama, Glenda rarely gave us gifts totalling over a dollar. This in spite of the fact that we had to spend three dollars just to play.

Glenda giveth, and Glenda taketh away.

But still, the machine was such a sensory-mindblow that it seemed foolish not to funnel money into it. Now I see what gambling addiction feels like. If you ever see a Wizard of Oz slotmachine, stay far away from its witchcraft.

Kevin and Amy soon returned from blackjack and recued us from the machine's evil clutches. Later that night and about seven free drinks in, Amy and I watched Kevin and Michael play craps with a very friendly and helpful stranger, who helped them win some money. Despite the fact that I must have watched for hours, I still have no concept of how blackjack works. I blame the alcohol. A few hours, many drinks, and thousands of gratuitous cheek-kisses later, Amy and I staggered home, calling everyone we knew on the east coast since it was about mid-morning over there.

We all woke up the next day around noon, still drunk and feeling awful. After eating the worst eggs ever we drove home just in time for the India party at the Kremlin. I am leaving out about a thousand small, glorious happenings, but I can't report them all here. After all, I'm not a novelist.