what happens in Vegas….

…stays in Vegas. 

I hate that saying.  I really, really do – because its not true.  In fact, its silly.  If you go to Vegas with the intention of misbehaving or acting like a dipstick, chances are whatever you do there will follow you home.  Pictures?  Yea, people can take pictures with friggin PENS and load them to facebook, tag your wife, and send it out to the entire INTERWEB thanks to Al Gore faster than you can put your shirt back on.  Herpes?  I’m pretty sure they don’t stay on the Strip after you’ve had a tryst with a hooker, and I know for a FACT that if you get married in Vegas, when you go home, you’re still married!

Ain’t that a kick in the pants.  They’re valid across state lines!

Anyway, every so often I like to increase the balance in my Karma bank by doing good stuff, specifically with charity.  In fact, I would have a lot more money in the bank if I wasn’t addicted to giving it away to different fundraisers – or, at the very least, I’d have a few more tattoos.  But hey, I like to share.  This season I’m doing another century ride with Team in Training called “the Ride to Montauk”  (http://pages.teamintraining.org/li/montjune12/jgerold4420) and I’ve raised about 1200 dollars (so far – my goal is 1600) for the LLS.  I like to limit myself to one event a season, mainly because the training occurs on Sundays and that seriously affects my social life in the summer (hey, I live in a beach town, and I like to drink PBRs on the beach with my friends without having to worry about being dehydrated on a bicycle in the middle of a 75 mi bike ride in 98 degree weather).

That being said, the team is going to Vegas for the fall season.  That’s right, Vegas. They’re going to do a 118 mile bike ride, through the desert, in Vegas.  And they think I’m going to go with them!  The minimum is really low, which makes it really inviting, but I’ve never been to Las Vegas before.  I don’t really have much of a desire to go there, cause I don’t really like the suffocating heat and I don’t really like being hung over, and being hung over in the suffocating heat sounds like the 7th circle of Hell for me.  I also don’t gamble, but if the opportunity presented itself, and I DID happen to go to Vegas, you can bet your Lilly white behind it wouldn’t be to ride a bike.

In fact, I’d probably come home married to transvestite sailor named Bubba.  With a new tattoo.  And a lot of pictures documenting the whole, beautiful ceremony.

Now what to write about for my 70th post!  How exciting.  I’ll try to make it a good-un.

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