I pretty much was saving this shirt specifically for the next time I made my way out to Las Vegas. Then lo and behold my good friend with a good bustline, Stacy mentioned on facebook that she needed a buddy to accompany her on a trip out to Vegas for a job interview. I eagerly agreed.
Our few days there involved stuffing ourselves silly with delicious food, gaping at the people of Walmart look of non-spring break Las Vegas tourists (speaking of which, while Stacy spent most of the nights looking like a fancy prostitute, I spent most of them looking like a plaid sack of manure by comparison), drinking questionable beverages out of a plastic cowboy boot (though perhaps questionable is implied with the words "cowboy boot"), and trying my best not to drunkenly text every girl I've ever met ever. Good times.
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