Bullets over Vegas.

I realise I forgot to mention one of the highlights of Vegas, primarily because I couldn't categorise it under any of my guy categories. Oh, perhaps I can: The clueless guy.

But first, a bit of background so that this all makes sense. Kevin had decided to come to Vegas for his birthday, inviting a couple of high school friends to join him. Upon hearing that, Dave (who also attended our illustrious university and who I knew since we had many friends in common. I even think I was his band's groupie at one point) decided to come too because his birthday is the day before Kevin's, and he had heard such great tales from the last time Kevin had been there. I always thought Kevin and Dave were good friends, because they booze together in NY all the time. Little did I know that Kevin considers Dave a "whiny little bitch," and did not want him at all in Vegas, because Dave would be whiny and wouldn't want to spend money - and Vegas is definitely the wrong city to go to if you're looking to be frugal.

The clincher came when Dave - who had told Kevin and his friends that they could stay in the free hotel rooms that Dave's uncle procured for him - rescinded his offer. Apparently, Kevin was inviting just too many people, and Dave was afraid that the hotel would somehow find out. (Technically, you're only supposed to have 4 in a room, but like the hotel doesn't have better things to do than to count the real number of people staying in a room - unless you're in Italy, that is. They're mean about that stuff over there). Since they would have been one over the technical limit, Dave disinvited them from staying in his free rooms. Even more annoyed at Dave than he already was, Kevin booked a room in a far swankier hotel than the one Dave was staying in. To add insult to injury, Dave then proceeded to invite so many friends that he was two people over the technical limit. Needless to say, this did not sit well with Kevin & friends.

Of course Dave has no idea that he is suchly despised. That would ruin all the fun.

So on Thursday, Kevin and his friends went to the shooting range in Vegas because apparently boys enjoy large firearms. To make the experience even more enjoyable, they blew up pictures of Dave so that they were poster-sized, choosing an especially unflattering picture with Dave in a mini fez, his mouth stuffed with food. And then they used these posters for target practice.

Then they each signed their "artwork," and presented them to Dave at dinner as his birthday present.

I don't know, if I received photos of me riddled though with bullets, I might not take too kindly to it. I might be hurt and madly insulted. Not Dave, however. He genuinely thought that these posters were the Best Birthday Presents he had received EVER. Even after Kevin pointed out that he shot Dave first through the head, then through the heart, "just in case the first one didn't [finish] him off." Even after Kevin and his friends said that this was the most fun they had had in ages. Even after Kevin and his friends said, "We hate you Dave, we really do." Maybe the desert heat addled Dave's thinking capabilities. It was all I could do to keep from openly gaping at Dave, because I just couldn't believe that he thought this was "truly awesome." But he did. And he wasn't even that drunk!

Perhaps you had to be there - but you can imagine it. What would you do if you were presented with three poster-sized pictures of yourself, bullet holes everywhere?

Kevin and I had a good laugh over it afterwards. But really, it's sad. Dave just had no idea.

(See - it's those 4-letter male names. Clueless and moronic.)