WE CAME, WE SAW, WE CONQUERED

Seeing as only half The Realests was able to make the 3rd annual Vegas college reunion, I had no choice but to be twice as obnoxious. The following are the highlights from the 3-day fiasco, or at least the ones I can remember:

- Of course I end up a row behind the bachelor party crew on the flight out of Newark. These dudes complained when they couldn't get a drink before takeoff, proceeded to get bombed out of their minds and play poker in the aisles while screaming "Motherf*****!" every time they lost and "Luck be a lady tonight!" when they won. Guys, you are my heroes.

- In the cab to the hotel, a friend and I joke another buddy would like the trashy strip club we drive by. The cab driver turns around, hands us his card and tells us to call anytime between 6 PM - 5 AM: He will pick us up anywhere in 10 minutes and get us free entry and an extra treat. Man I love this town.

- The NBA Summer League: Not worth $25. You've got the 1st percentile of NBA talent there. Then take the league's defense on an average night and divide by 10. This should put it in perspective: Wilson Chandler looked like LBJ compared to the stiffs he was up against (namely Judson Wallace). The sole highlight was heckling Mustafa Shakur to stop being a ballhog. BTW, Alexis Ajinca is well on his way to being MJ's latest draft bust. Dude spent the entire time out of position and getting yelled instructions by his teammates - of which he understood zero.

- The VooDoo Lounge at Rio is an absolute must for anyone trying to relive their college glory days. At the top of the hotel, we start the night getting ripped off for $15 drinks. Then we inquire about their marquee concoction, The Witch Doctor, a 36-ounce drink they claimed had 28 ounces of alcohol. So we called their bluff for 26 bucks. Well my friends, never f*ck with the Witch Doctor. Tasting like pure sugar, it had one of our friends puking in the club bathroom a half-hour later. Never, ever question the realness of Vegas.

- Saturday afternoon we headed over to The Palms for a showing of The Dark Knight. We entered the hotel at precisely the same time as the entire Charlotte Bobcats summer league team, including Mustafa Shakur. I instantly cowered behind a slot machine until the coast was clear.

- We were originally very skeptical of Heath Ledger as The Joker. Well, nothing like a guaranteed Oscar to flip it on our face. The movie had its holes (hey, how did The Joker put a ton of dynamite in the hospital without anyone noticing?), but Ledger was flawless.

- Afterward we head upstairs to party at Moon. Classy joint. Apparently Paul Pierce thinks so too, cuz he was 10 feet away from us making out with some hootch in a booth. Things were kind of fuzzy at this point so I tried to walk right up to him - until I got blocked by one of his two jumbo bodyguards who were pancaking people all night.

- You know you're getting old when your buddy wonders onto the dance floor and makes out with a chick freshman-year style, then comes back and says, "Dude, she had a kid." (Editor's Note: Thanks to The Dude for refreshing my memory: The kid is 15. Yorp). Highlight and lowlight of the trip in my book.

- Just when we thought the trip couldn't get any better, we find a $5 Blackjack table at 4 AM in The Palms and stay up 'til 6 living the good life, knowing we are the lowest rollers in the city. Vegas, baby. Vegas.

P.S. Is there any other way to end a story about Vegas? It has to be the best 3-word description of anything ever.