atlantic city

Stoned, the wad of money not lost to the casino digging into the side of my thigh, falling asleep on a ledge next to the 21st story window after watching the lemming waves do their thing, thinking about how the transvestite hookers could've possibly known that I'm half-Irish and not a rounded whole, I woke up at 10am to the sun and Dan's whispering and then, at Trump Marina, where the cocktail waitresses were a little older but brought us more than one drink an hour, Pete won $760 at blackjack and roulette. Jenny and I followed his lead for a little while and everything was coming up Milhouse until we all stopped playing...