I had to go to the Google to learn the meaning of that phrase my Dad says when he’s really pissed at someone, but I needed it as a title for a post on the spectacular performance of my liver recently in Las Vegas.

It all started innocently enough with a “Sambatini of the day” at SushiSamba in the Palazzo. Well, when the “tini” turned out to be a fluorescent pink with “muddled” fruits, the 11 male co-workers all took turns verbally castrating me with classics like, “Hey Leo, how’s that Vag-tini?” I smiled and said nothing in the din of erupting laughter. I just sipped my fresh, refreshing pink drink like a man. Later, when our waiter sampled us for another round, Pete, the quiet instigator sitting next to me said, “You can’t let them challenge your manhood like that. You need to have another.” I did, and then a third. There’s photographic evidence of my pink thirst quenching I expect to soon see in an email, Facebook post or Powerpoint, so I’ll share it when I get it.

From the classy SushiSamba, we rolled over to the “Carnival Court,” a dive under a big tent in the shadow of the low-rent Imperial Palace. At Carnival they’ll pour shots directly into your mouth right from the bottle while you’re seated next to a hooker with dirty clothes. We chose to remain standing. The place had a stage and the cover band was blaring “Lick it Up” by KISS when we walked in, but in spite of the rock, I passed on round 1. After initially declining a round 2 beverage a mere 90 seconds after round 1 was delivered, I moseyed up to the bar and ordered my live band beverage, a Maker’s Mark on the rocks. I dipped into my billfold and extended a $10. “Twelve dollars” send me back in for a deuce and a tip. After two more Maker’s, I made the case that I was now “even.” I contended the three Maker’s neutralized the 3 Vag-tini’s and I was once again a man. I was concerned we might have a hung jury, but it was pretty cold out there, so that wasn’t a problem and I was begrudging accepted back into the male majority. One more Maker’s and a Jaegerbomb later I was on the dance floor with the 5 remaining male cohorts and the one female who regrettably joined us. Oh, and I swear there were Marines’ in full dress blues grinding each other, but I didn’t think an inquiry on “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” to young, drunk Marines’ was a good call at 2AM.

The one rule of company tradeshows is, “No matter how much fun you have the night before, the next morning you gotta’ answer the bell.” I did and was on the Expo floor by the opening at 8:30. Yes, AM. I actually didn’t feel too bad. We did suffer one casualty, and that individual is still MIA (Missing In Alcohol). Maybe they ate some bad sushi…

Btw, Merriam-Webster provides this background on the term “lilly-livered:”

“The basis of the word “lily-livered” lies in an old belief. Years ago, people thought that health and temperament were the products of a balance or imbalance of four bodily fluids, or humors: blood, phlegm, black bile, and yellow bile. It was believed that a deficiency of yellow bile, or choler, the humor that governed anger, spirit, and courage, would leave a person’s liver colorless or white. Someone with this deficiency, and so white-livered, would be spiritless and a coward. “Lily-livered” and “white-livered” have been used synonymously since the 16th century, but “lily-livered” is now the more common expression, probably because of its alliteration.”