GOOCHONLINE - Since 1999

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Except for VD and weight gain. I went out with a bang last night. I didn't bang anyone, but my friend Nikki and I hung out with some locals and I got stupid, stupid drunk and I ended up in an apartment or a hotel room where i passed out on a bed. The next thing I remember is walking out the door, the door shutting behind me; it's sunny out, and I don't know where the fuck I am. I could see the MGM and the Luxor to my right, which was very far away. I started walking. It was 6:30am, and I don't recall ever being as drunk as I was at that moment. I fell over twice while on the phone. Oh yeah, I made phone calls at 6:30am. "Gooch," you ask, "did you call your friends to let them know you were okay... or did you call a cab?"

No, I called my ex-girlfriend and cried like a school girl about how scared I was and how I should have been better to her.

"Gooch," you exclaim, "You're a fag!"

I think I started hitchhiking, and finally got a cab. I was still drunk when my plane landed in Portland at 3pm. I threw up at 4:30pm. My head hurts from hitting it during one of my falls. I wish my concussion and my hangover would have stayed in Vegas. Since they happened there and all. I'm sure the story of my adventures this morning is chock full of more details than I know, or recollect. I have a bunch of phone numbers in my phone that I don't remember getting. I have a disposable camera that I'm afraid to get developed. Those should be interesting. I think I racked up $100 in bar expenses. Okay... now I'm just rambling. I'm outta here.