Watermelon Smiles

I don't know how to explain it. Life is both easier and rougher now. And, living in Vegas, we get it the worst, right? The free-all pass to drinking, gambling, and shooting. It's just so...weird. Four of us, one hotel room. It's packed to the brim, too.

Clothes are just all over the now impossible to see floor. I don't know what we were all thinking, but, I think I'm liking it. Except for the hang-over and waking up with someone's boxers in my face shirtless with "My Property" written in a fancy cursive with a Sharpie across my chest. Vegas provides all the cheap thrills one could ask for in only a matter of hours, it's truly amazing. I love it. It's even more unrealistic when your with three people that are closest to you. Can you guess who? I doubt it, your paper. Mr.Wentz, Mr.Urie, and Mr.Saporta. Okay, so, I'm not that close to Gabe...but Pete is?

I've had to up the dose on the Prozac-y stuff Pete gave me. It takes just one more to get my mood up now. He said that it's normal, but not to go over three at a time. I'll be honest, I snuck four last night.

I feel like heaving at the moment, but Brendon's arm around me is begging me not to get up and run over to the toilet right now, that and Gabe's in the shower and I'm still shirtless. That would not be a good idea. Shirtless Ryan, heaving with a nude Gabe in the shower...no, no, never. I wouldn't dream of it. Or would I? Pete's over in the "kitchen" area trying to cook at least something. And, were out of Advil.

My stomach's not working with me right now....