The Return

After checking the weather and whatnot on Friday, we knew that the trip back was going to be awful. There's no better way to end a week in paradise than the most awful trip back possible. So the first real joke is that I lost my ipod all week and the van back claimed that they had found my ipod and were going to be able to give it to me. Turns out they had a black ipod in a black case. It wasn't my black ipod in a black case.

Well the ride to Denver wasn't a problem at all and the driver was a tetris master.

So checking into DIA we were already a half-hour delayed, which quickly turned into an hour. Boloney Moguls solution: Get hammered. Whole lot of drinking went down. Eventually we boarded an hour late, taxied away, and then got news that JFK was closed and we would be sitting on the tarmac. After a solid hour we then taxied back to the gate, to just as quickly turn around and get back into line to takeoff. Around 4 we finally took off. Our awesome inflight bartender started getting us rounds of white Russians, and I added up a 80$ bar tab... on a plane.

Oh yea, Tim got a sick Brett Michaels hat.

and that's how breckenrage ended.