sleepless in shambles

First off, excuse my writing today. I'm barely able to understand basic grammar, let alone form some sort of clever, pun-filled essay on the shambles that was this weekend. And, in all honesty, some shambles are not meant to be broadcast over the Interweb. So, while I think I'll keep most of the more sordid details to myself in an attempt to maintain at least some sort of semblance of respectability on my e-stomping grounds, I will reveal to you in the laziest format I could think of a quick, numerical outline of what a few friends and I have been doing since 5 p.m. last Friday:

• 3 hours in the Greyhound bus station waiting for bus to Atlantic City;
• 5 hours on sh*tty bus;
• 1 man with non-ironic mustache who smelled of Brut and stale coffee;
• 1 hour waiting in check-in line at AC hotel;
• 1 sh*tty hotel room;
• 1 adept negotiator demanding said hotel do something about the "pubes" in our bathroom;
• 1 high-roller suite;
• Several hundred (er, thousand) dollars lost;
• 1 in-room jacuzzi;
• 1 bottle of bubble bath;
• Several semi-disturbing yet hilarious photographs taken (Hi Facebook!);
• 3 hours of sleep;
• 1 hour figuring out how to park at the Borgata;
• 1 casino buffet;
• $60 dollars worth of food paid for;
• $160 worth consumed;
• 1 gigantic ceramic boot bought;
• 2 pairs of truck stop sunglasses bought;
• 1 grill;
• Several pounds of meat consumed;
• Several bottles of Corona imbibed;
• Several hours of dancing;
• 1 lost coat;
• 4 hours of sleep;
• 1 broken cell phone;
• 1 Sunday brunch;
• 5 episodes of Arrested Development;
• 4 flowery vinyl table cloths-cum-raincoats;
• 1 coat found;
• 2 hours on I-66;
• 1 Radiohead concert;
• 1 case of Corona;
• 4 Silver Bullets;
• 1 endless rainstorm;
• 4 cases of borderline hypothermia;
• 2 hours escaping Nissan Pavilion parking lot (but at least I got in...);
• $19.21 worth of late-night Wendys;
• 1 more broken cell phone;
• 1.5 hours of sleep;
• 1 4:30 a.m. wake-up call;
• 1 7:00 a.m. flight; and
• 1 barely alive reporter.

Yet all these shambles were not for naught (See? That's the kind of half-ass, lazy sentence construction I warned you about). No, several lessons can be learned, so, yeah, here's another goddamn list:

• Greyhound sucks;
• Dropping the phrase "wayward pubes" will get you a tight hotel upgrade;
• Jacuzzis make creepy photo backdrops;
• The Borgota parking lot is a mirage;
• Giant ceramic things are funny;
• Truck stop accessories rule;
• I still like to dance at St. Ex;
• I heart a good barbeque as I do a good brunch;
• Arrested Development does live up to the hype;
• Table-cloth ingenuity will only keep you so dry in torrential downpours;
• I hate traffic;
• I love Radiohead;
• Wet tight pants are not as awesome as they sound;
• Wet cell phones don't work;
• The Nissan Pavilion can suck it;
• Wendys is the best nightcap ever;
• Having a job is hard.