The Musings Of An Opinionated Sod [Help Me Grow!]

Forgive me, but today I am writing a post for me.

Actually, I always do that – however this time it’s even more for me than usual – mainly because I want to ensure the magic of the last 10 days isn’t forgotten.

I had an amazing holiday.

A mad, stupid, wonderful, amazing holiday.

It could be, quite possibly, the best holiday I’ll ever have in my life.

Yes, it was that good.

Saying that, things got off to a dodgy start when having landed in LA, we proceeded to lose our luggage.

We’d only been in the country for literally a few minutes when we proceeded to lose our suitcases. And it was all our fault.

Yes … one person who lives in China, bumping into another person who lives in England.

Normally the chances of that would be very, very, very small – however when you find out your wives have been secretly planning that outcome for the last 10 months, you realise it’s not that rare, … even if the magnificence, kindness and unbelievable wonderfulness of their wives, is.

From there, so much happened.

Good and weird … but no bad, however some sad.

So that I can remember the highlights when I’m 90 and using a colostomy bag, I’m going to right them here now, because some simply beggar belief.

Helicoptering into the Grand Canyon for breakfast …

… then learning a helicopter – doing exactly the same trip – crashed the next day, killing all on board.
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Ridiculous amounts of food. And I mean ridiculous.

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Gambling. And winning. A lot.
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Breasts. Huge … massive …. breasts.

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Stupidly cool hotels.
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Getting remarried. Along side my best friend. And Elvis.

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Having some of the weirdest conversations of my life with taxi drivers.
[“There’s this thing, called the internet” & “I can’t get a passport for another 2 years”]
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Being dressed like freaks … or in my case, Elton John, circa 1974 … while Paul chose to look like the bastard love child of a 1980’s Gameshow presenter and a bouncer.

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Seeing a lot of B-grade Hollywood ‘stars’.
[Calista Flockhart & the Discovery Channel ‘motorbike making dudes’]
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Seeing lesbian lions. Though obviously, I didn’t tell them that.

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Missing the man who started shooting along Hollywood Boulevard by a few hours.
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Being driven at 55mph along the freeway, in a wooden bus that no windows. At night. When it’s 2 degrees.

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Imagining Elton John as a gangsta.

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Being in a cab that took 2 hours to go 6 miles.
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Paying more in tips than I do on a typical night out.

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Shunning a hired Mustang to travel LA via our own London Cab.

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Having the World’s most expensive KFC at The Ivy.

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Becoming the best friend with LA’s, “no curse” rapper all thanks to a $100 bill.

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Experiencing some classic Vegas moments …

… and LA moments.

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Seeing our wives start ‘Occupy Rodeo Drive’.

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Almost zip-lining through a shopping mall, only for my Birkenstocks to rob me of my SAS fantasies.
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Getting my first tattoo. A big tattoo … so now I am Mr LA Ink & a disappointment to my Mum. And no Billy, I’m not trying to be you …

… though judging by my wife’s first ‘ink’, maybe she is.

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Seeing some of the most industrious con-artists I’ve ever seen.
[Hello Ms ‘Las Vegas Sign Photographer’]

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Scaring myself shitless as people jumped off ‘The Stratosphere’ in Vegas. Fortunately attached to a rope.

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To be honest, none of this does it justice, but it was just brilliant in every way and I am eternally grateful to my wife, Paul’s wife & Shelly for making it happen … it was quite simply, amazing and I will literally never forget it.

OK, that’s it – normal shit service will commence shortly – but not for long, because in less than 2 weeks, Santa comes which means you get another let off my rubbish.