the dancing fountain at the bellagio hotel

these pictures do not do the fountain justice. it was actually pretty frickin' sweet. if it wasn't so hot out and i hadn't just drank two giant strawberry daquiris down on freemont street, i might have really enjoyed it. instead, after watching the fountain we were treated to a mile long walk on baking concrete back to the hotel while i fought off the urge to vomit on the men who were trying to give us cards with the numbers of hookers that i could order up to my room in 20 minute's time. you see, apparently if you are a cab driver in vegas you are an asshole who won't take people anywhere unless you pick them up at a casino. jerkwads. you can't flag them down. along the way back to the hotel, we stoppped at a CVS so i could get some water and ran into aaron and mike - who was at first taking a leak on the side of the CVS. they buggered off to gamble i think and joel and i went back to our suite which was later filled with people drinking beer and recalling the night's events.