This is a story about different styles of loud shorts, but mostly about water.
The water journey started in Macau, at the House of Dancing Water show. You know when you buy a fake Louise V purse, and the lining is Burberry plaid? Well if you take Cirque du Soleil O, speed it up, add some bling, and throw in jumping motorbikes, you're in Macau.
Strangely, no choreographed dancing was allowed on the escalators outside the show, especially while wearing crocs. Crocs just make you even less graceful.
Whoops, I forgot this picture last week to remind you that Macau's casino's are just like Vegas. Macau is like Portugal, and Macau is like Vegas, but Portugal is nothing like Vegas. Deep, right?
Anyway, the next day we circumnavigated Hong Kong. I have just dictionary confirmed that this is not entirely true, but that's how it seemed. Where are you headed, guys?
And how hot is it, Dave? (Editor's note: I felt the same level of brain-busting overheat, but luckily a lower level of photography. Neither Dave nor I can now remember much of our respective childhoods).
This is how much fluid we consumed afterwards. Each. Delicious ketchup noodles and extensive popsicles not shown.
I think that we burned off the calories from the day before, even given the fried cheese!
