This is a picture of me, in our suite in Las Vegas, dancing around and pointing an (unloaded) gun that belongs to a buddy (who is a federal agent) at my genitals, pretending to shoot them off.

I think this just about sums up my four nights in Las Vegas, a trip we called WidowMaker II. But a couple of other thoughts:

Vegas = high school. Sexually-speaking, that is. You see, I did not get laid in high school, because I was not physically attractive. However, I started getting laid a little bit in college and got laid at a pretty good clip (for my weight class) after college because, even though I’m still not very good-looking, I’m kinda rich and funny. Things like these matters when girls get older (thank god!), but they don’t mean dog shit when you’re 16 and would literally give up two of your fingers to ejaculate inside or even in the presence of an actual, complicit living woman.

However, in Las Vegas, it’s right back to the high school model of sex: if you ain’t good looking, you ain’t getting laid. Sure, being rich will get you laid in Vegas, but you have to be rich rich and not just kinda rich. The only people picking up other people in Las Vegas and making love to them have muscles/good physiques and expensive haircuts, as well as wardrobes that do not consist entirely of clothes i) purchased off the sale rack at Banana Republic; ii) bought at thrift stores in the Hermosa Beach area; or iii) more than eight years old.

Girls, girls, girls. I and another buddy landed on Thursday night, and our four remaining friends showed up on Friday (one buddy lives out there). That’s seven guys in total. By late Sunday night, we had determined that not one of us had spoken to ONE, SINGLE WOMAN who was not under the employ of a business that we were patronizing (e.g., blackjack dealers, bartenders, strippers, etc). True story. Seven guys, and not one conversation with a girl in which money did not immediately change hands either just before or just after.

(This spell was broken on Sunday night, when we went to the Hofbrau Haus for dinner and spoke briefly to the girls sitting next to us before they left and went to a club, and at least two of us went back to the room to poop.)

Bets, bets, bets. I did ok over the weekend, winning on the Steelers and Bears, but losing on the Falcons (-1! at home! Matty Ice!) and Pats (like the rest of the universe). However, I picked a couple of futures that I would like to share, if you don’t mind:

To win the World Series: Brewers at 40/1, A’s at 30/1. These were the most appealing to me, by far. I like that Brewers staff, three strong with Greinke, Gallardo and Marcum, as well as their offense and an owner who’s obviously going all in this year; I would think that 25/1 might be more likely for the Brewers, so I was really happy with 40/1. I like the A’s a little less, but the Giants just proved that it’s possible to win with good pitching and a bunch of shitty bats putting it together, so with the Anderson-Cahill-Gonzalez-Braden top four and a good bullpen, even a modest offense can get them into the playoffs in a weak division, and then who knows what happens.

An aside: best bet to win the 2011 World Series? That would be the Philadelphia Phillies, at 8/5. Boy, despite all the success that the team has had recently, that still felt weird to see that.

To win the Champions League: Arsenal at 20/1. I know I basically gave away $20 on this one, since there’s no way that Arsenal’s going to win the Champions League, but why not?

To win the NBA title: Knicks at 25/1. Actually, I did not bet on this – I was going to, but got distracted and then forgot about it. But I’m kicking myself here, because i) if the Knicks get Carmelo, that would significantly increase their chances and thus lower these odds and ii) I’m a Sixers “fan,” but one of the things that I’ve also felt I’ve missed out on living for the past decade-ish in NYC is a good Knicks team. Their revival this year, though modest, has proven that this is a great basketball city, and it would be exciting to see them do well in the playoffs.

Next up, Omaha. My friends and seem to joke about this every time we go to Vegas, but, well, do we really need to go to Vegas, when we spend most of our time sitting around our really nice hotel room, crushing Buds and smoking cigarettes, and talking about good times we’ve had or girls we’ve effed? For a lot less cash (and a lot more convenience), we could just as easily fly to somewhere in the middle of the country and have 82% to 88% of the fun we had/have in Las Vegas – I’m certain we can find ourselves a really nice suite in Kansas City or Omaha or whatnot.

But alas, I’m just as certain that this time next year, we’ll be in Las Vegas once again. In the meantime, there is talk of a fall trip to one of my favorite cities, New Orleans, the only city outside of Nevada in which picking up a prostitute is slightly more difficult than picking up a pack of cigarettes. Looking forward to it!