Happy Thanksgiving

So long, California! Talk about an ominous view of our venture east into winter… went from explosions of Camp Pendleton to gun shots and sirens of Las Vegas.

Even though we weren’t home, we still got a great turkey dinner, thanks to the Avillar family! Many thanks to them for the sweet invitation and wonderful dinner. Everyone was so nice and Trisha’s dad was such a funny character. They’ve got one of the biggest cats I’ve seen – isn’t it? Curtis and Chico met years ago when he first started traveling, and have kept in touch, great, no?!

Yeah, yeah, I know they are horrible, but we still hit the buffets. After the second day and second buffet, we learned our lesson. Those are horrible places for us frugal ‘get all you can for your money’ types. This night was meat night, if you can’t tell. And this was plate number one.

Serendipitous, yes… that Cujo wore this shirt today.

We decided to do un-stripy things this trip, so we went down to Boulder City (a former mountain biking hill for Cujo) and over to Lake Mead. The lake was great, and the hike was fun – until we ran into this sign, ugh gross!

The view driving back into Las Vegas of the strip, and those new ‘fake’ satellite towers that are supposed to blend in with surroundings. What a great idea! I barely noticed it. What a difference. And all that shiny stuff on the ground and the mountain - it's glass. Everywhere.

Despite the majority of our time out of a casino, we still watched some football and horses a couple days. That was an interesting experience. We had to hear a woman’s lecture about why Oregon’s mascot is the Duck, about how much money she’s given them since 1962, and her standing ovations for scores – even during replays. Another guy told Cujo to fuck off. I also got mistaken for a hooker. Nice. As Kristen would say, “It’s face punching time…”