Birthday in Vegas. Part 2

So there we were a few hours later sitting at the craps table, between the three of us JaGe and Champ and I were up about $176,000 and things were going well. Stratt came through the casino five or six different times each time completely nude, acting like he was some sort of animal and being chased by security.

As we were sitting there puffing away on hundred dollar cigars and drinking Macallan Fine & Rare Collection, 1939, whiskey a buxom young red head starlet walks over and taps me on the shoulder. She was one of Hollywood’s head line grabbers who was livid that we bash her so often on our site. Due to legal agreements we won’t mention her name, but for the purposes of this story we will call her…Blindsay Blohan.

The four of us retreated to a private table so we could explain to her that when she puts herself out there in such ways it is our job, nay our duty to make fun of her and make an example of her. Eventually we were able to convince her it was all a big joke and she decided to have a few drinks with us. Don’t worry, we bought her $4 shots, we weren’t about to waste any of our Macallan on that hussy.

Eventually she started to complain about a stomach ache Champ offered her a handful of the pills that Sweetchuck gave him. Blindsay being Blindsay downed them before we had a chance to explain the side effects. She thanked us then invited us all back to her suite. We all decided to sit in the hot tub and relax, it was just about then the pills kicked in. I won’t get into detail about what happens next but it rhymes with Wang Dang. Oh, alright, it was a gang bang.

So it was just after sun up, Blindsay laid there passed out on the floor with certain parts of her anatomy resembling shredded bologna and we took it as our cue to leave. We headed back to our suite and to our individual rooms to shower. We all met up at the breakfast buffet to get our bellies full before starting out on a beautiful Thursday morning. Just about the time Champ turned to JaGe and asked if we should be worried about Stratt, the scrambled eggs started to move around. Just then Stratt sat up, apparently he fell asleep on the buffet table and no one noticed.

Still stark naked and covered in scrambled eggs he got a plate of breakfast and sat with us to eat. After wards we all went outside and Stratt went up to get a shower and change. As we stood there waiting on him we all had an eerie feeling we were being watched. Stratt came back down and we decided to go check out he Hoover dam. We piled in the stupid mobile and off we went.

The dam was cool, but nothing really exciting happened. We got back to town at about 2:30 in the afternoon and decided to take in some shows. We saw the Blue Man Group where Champ freaked out and started screaming something about having the answer, and that it was a Paul W.S. Anderson’s fault. Then we went to Cirque Du Soleil where we all cracked jokes about JaGe feeling right at home. It may have been the Beatles music…but it was still the French and it still sucked.

After a late supper we caught Wayne Newton, who is, was and will always be a pimp. It was now 11:30 and we decided it was time to see some titty. We popped in to a club called Glitter Gulch. I was angry almost from the get go that it was a topless only joint, but the rest of the guys seemed happy. I just can’t see the point of paying more than a $5 cover not to see and beef curtains. JaGe and I sat at the bar doing shots, Stratt sat at the stage, but I am fairly certain he was paying more attention to his DS than the silicone mounds a-bumpin and jiggling and Champ was no where to be seen.

By about 2:30 I had a pretty good buzz tied on and received a lap dance from the majority of the dancers. JaGe was completely ripped and actually on stage dancing with Cinder and Jade and screaming along with “Talk Dirty To Me”. About that time Champ came flying out of the back room. He was shirtless, pulling up his pants and covered in lipstick marks. His hair was furiously flailing with ferocity and he was belting out “Stop you bastard stop, read the Mix Tape…READ THE MIX TAPE!!!

Just then things got a little rowdy and we were politely escorted to the door, and by politely escorted to the door I mean we were tossed out by a huge bouncer named Punky. Since we knew we were going to get loaded we decided not to bring our car. We hired a limo service for the night. We stood there having a smoke and waiting for the limo to pull up. A couple of the girls came out from the club and asked what we were doing the rest of the night. We admitted we didn’t have any plans and the invited us to hang out with them.

We all piled in the limo and they instructed the driver as to how to get where they were taking us. After about a half hour of driving we arrived at our destination. It was out in the middle of the desert and resembled an abandoned meat packing plant. “What the hell is this place?” Champ asked in a gruff voice. “An Abandoned meat packing plant.” one of the girls said. As we approached the door we could hear the thumping bass of techno music. I hate techno…this was only going to be a bad thing.

Read Part 1

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