Booza-Palooza 2013

Remember what happened last night? Good. Now tell the world.

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Dear Booze
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Booza-Palooza 2013

Post by Dear Booze »

Reno is a benjo ditch filled with drunken cabbies, ugly prostitutes and ignorant bartenders. It’s a shallow grave dug especially by, and for, two-bit pimps, wanna-be players and degenerate gamblers. It’s a last stop for drop-outs, quitters and the outcast. What the fuck happened to these people? They’ve given up trying to get it on with the American Dream. Hell, most of these fuckers never even made it to first base. Now they’re barely content to masturbate to it as they watch it from an abandoned doorway. They’re all desperate and doomed and I can’t help wonder what sliver of hope they still possessed when they decided to make Reno their home instead of swallowing the black metal end of a really long shotgun and pulling the trigger with their toes.

On Friday morning, Allen, Khan, Angel and I piled into Allen’s Subaru Outback and pointed the Pleiades star cluster north toward Sacramento, and then east on the road paved with good intentions toward Reno.

Sure, we’ve all been to Reno, Las Vegas, or Tahoe for one reason or another. But this trip is different. It’s a pilgrimage, an open proclamation of reckless fun. It is a chance to play a giant game of Fuckaroo with the Reno locals. Oh, imagine the fantastic possibilities...

We were on our way to the annual Booza-Palooza drinking festival.

For some forgotten reason, we decided to go in search of the best Irish pub in Reno. The internet gave two-thumbs-up to Foley’s, Ole Bridge Pub, and others that have already slipped my mind.

So, we took a cab several miles south on Virginia Street to Foley’s, but were immediately disappointed. Fuck. We let the cab driver take off; we should have asked him to wait a few minutes while we checked the place out. We won’t make that mistake again.

The place is a fairly decent looking cookie-cutter chain-restaurant-looking place. We found out later that it used to be a Hooters. The staff was courteous and responsive and the place was clean. But they didn’t allow smoking and there was a family with little kids celebrating a birthday party for one of the children. Bad sign. What kind of savage actively plans to get drunk around a bunch of kids? We all knew what would happen and it would not end well. So we downed our Guinness and immediately walked outside to hail another cab.

Our next stop was to be the Ole Bridge Pub, but the cab driver couldn’t find it. So, he dropped us off about a block away and made us walk around until we found it. Once inside, we found a really stupid bartender who was not interested in bartending at all. There were a total of six customers in the place, but even that volume pushed her past the limits of her abilities as a bartender. To top it off, they didn’t allow smoking either.

Still, we stayed for a couple of hours drinking pint after pint and several cocktails and a few shots. We even played a dice game where, by rolling, it was determined who would choose a drink, who would pay for the drink and who would drink the drink.

A poorly constructed Long Island Iced Tea put me over the top.

“Fuck you! Hey bartender, fuck off! You fucking cunt!” Jesus! Did I SAY that? Or just think it? Was I talking? Did they hear me? I glanced over at my buddies, who seemed oblivious. Time to move on.

Again, we hailed a cab and asked the drunken cabbie to take us to an Irish bar with the following characteristics: •Must allow smoking
•Must have a pool table
•Must have darts
•Must have dice
•Must be dirty

This cab driver knew just the spot. A few minutes later, we were deposited into the small parking lot of Corrigan’s Irish Pub. We walking into a cloud of smoke and stale beer with surly-looking locals who were clearly trying decide what to make of us. Pool table. Check. Smoking. Check. Darts. Check. Dice. Check. Dirty. Double check.

We even noticed that there was a large hook hanging down from the center of the ceiling with what appeared to be splattered blood on the ceiling itself. We resolved that the hook must be there to hold a Chinese Fuck Basket and that the blood stains were an accepted consequence of its use.

We started off with a round of reasonably cold Guinness and quickly recognized that undrunk people drink good beer and drunk people don’t give a shit. So we switched to cocktails.

In what seemed like only a few moments (but it could have been several hours), one of the regulars came over and struck up a conversation with us. We talked about golf… Actually, we may have talked about other things too, but I was so drunk that I only recall a hazy conversation about golf.

The golf conversation guy was there with his brother, 80-year-old mother and maybe some of the other people at the bar. I have no fucking idea. But I do recall that his mother sent us a round of drinks. It was sweet of her, so we bought her a round and challenged her to a spirited game of dice. Same game that we played earlier. She happily accepted our provocation and the game was on. Several other regulars joined in as well.

We must have played for hours. I seem to have lost a little time.

I do recall that we came up with the greatest idea for a television show in the history of broadcasting. Relatively Famous would feature semi-famous relatives of real famous people. Frank Stallone, Don Swayze and Roger Clinton were a few names that we tossed around. We’d get about a dozen of them and make them live in a house together for a few weeks and film the entire thing. Kind of like the old VH1 show The Surreal Life. For some reason, this was the funniest thing in the world for about a half hour. Maybe longer.

We eventually left Corrigan’s and may have visited other bars. This is part of the timeline that none of us can confirm. We do, however remember that one of our cab drivers told us about a defunct S&M club that had been located in Douglas Alley, an area just across the street from Cal-Neva Hotel and Casino. Even while undrunk, I have no idea why he felt compelled to tell us about the “buy-one-ass-whoopin’-get-one-free” specials that the place used to run.

At some point, we made it back to our hotel, but I have no idea what time it was. I also know that we continued to drink and went down the street to Harrah’s to play cards, but I can’t recall any details except for a conversation with one of the dealers. She was a young dealer who was very nice and had absolutely no idea what to make of us. For some reason, the subject of Gingers came up and she informed us that she had siblings who were Gingers. We informed her that Gingers are the result of anal sex, are sub-human and cannot be trusted. She may have agreed. I have no fucking idea and I didn’t give a shit what she thought. The only thing I knew for sure was that we were not physically ejected from the casino. And for that, I am still disappointed.

I have no idea what time I went back to my room, or if I even went on my own power. What I do know is that I was rooming with Allen and he came in at some time after me. Maybe five minutes? Maybe five hours? But I remember hearing him fumble and stumble into the room.

“Ignore that nightmare in the bathroom,” I yelled into the darkness, referring to the collateral damage from a full day of heavy Guinness and Rum intake mixed with a pinch of greasy food. “The human system was not designed to handle that sort of pressure.”

Allen didn’t seem to notice or care one way or another. He’s never been able to accept the notion - often espoused by members of AA - that you can have just as much fun undrunk as you can drunk. And, clearly, neither have I. The bathroom was the accepted result of a job well done.

For those poor sons-of-bitches who show up with any dignity at all, Reno has a way of stealing it. But, it’s not like Las Vegas, with its Disneylandification of a life without morals. Reno is the real deal. If the entire City of Las Vegas is a theme park based on a real city, Reno is that city. What happens in Reno not only stays in Reno, it probably gets murdered in Reno as well. It’s a place where anything goes, but without the phony glitz and glamour that Las Vegas slaps on it. It’s a city without direction, and the folks who live there are a part of that culture. They have no direction. There are no hopes or dreams left. If they have anything resembling a soul, they need to get out while they can.

But don’t get overly worked up. Reno has its downside too.
DRINK!

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Re: Booza-Palooza 2013

Post by mistah willies »

Very well written, and with nicely acerbic wit.

Some will take offence to the Ginger part, but a good tale has something for everyone to enjoy and/or bitch about.


This site employs the rule that the Newcomer buys everyone a round, but as I am a fellow noob here, I'll simply raise my own glass to you.

Cheers

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Re: Booza-Palooza 2013

Post by Palinka (RIP) »

Welcome aboard, dear_booze. And may I compliment you on a most excellent opening post.
I hope that your stay here will proove to be the beginning of a beautiful three way relationship; you, booze and the Board.
Post drunk.
Post often.
Post drunk often.

Don't hesitate to get in touch with any of the Green Team, if there is anything that we can help you with Board-wise.

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Dear Booze
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Re: Booza-Palooza 2013

Post by Dear Booze »

Thank you for the kind words of drunken encouragement. Almost as good as "I love you man... give me a hug... that's not a hug... give me a real hug!"

Next round's on me. Put it on my tab.

Cheers!
DRINK!

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Re: Booza-Palooza 2013

Post by Bur »

Can I have a hug?

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Re: Booza-Palooza 2013

Post by mistah willies »

Aww, Dear Booze, you remembered our anniversary.
C'mere.

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Re: Booza-Palooza 2013

Post by Redrums71 »

Holy shit, I was at this amazing event.

It was great reading this post, and for once realizing what we did that weekend.

It stirred up so much nastolgia, that I’m pretty sure I had a lit cigarette in my hand when I first started reading reading, but by the end, the cig was gone, my drink was watered down (true crime, I know, but I thank my third grade reading level for the amount of time it took me to get through the post), and my ass started to itch, again.

Now several years and blackout sessions later, I understand why these casinos demand a higher deposit, and insist that I take a handicapped accessible room. I thought that mess in the restroom was the result of having the hooker hose herself off before touching me, but now I’m starting to think that DB broke into my room sometime in the night and left a care package.

Cheers to all, as I look forward to shooting the shit, and maybe learning a trick or two from you all.

Red

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Re: Booza-Palooza 2013

Post by Patchez »

Redrums71 wrote:
Sat Aug 04, 2018 3:14 pm
Holy shit, I was at this amazing event.

It was great reading this post, and for once realizing what we did that weekend.

It stirred up so much nastolgia, that I’m pretty sure I had a lit cigarette in my hand when I first started reading reading, but by the end, the cig was gone, my drink was watered down (true crime, I know, but I thank my third grade reading level for the amount of time it took me to get through the post), and my ass started to itch, again.

Now several years and blackout sessions later, I understand why these casinos demand a higher deposit, and insist that I take a handicapped accessible room. I thought that mess in the restroom was the result of having the hooker hose herself off before touching me, but now I’m starting to think that DB broke into my room sometime in the night and left a care package.

Cheers to all, as I look forward to shooting the shit, and maybe learning a trick or two from you all.

Red
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Re: Booza-Palooza 2013

Post by Dear Booze »

Dear Booze wrote:
Fri Jun 28, 2013 5:09 pm
...I do recall that we came up with the greatest idea for a television show in the history of broadcasting. Relatively Famous would feature semi-famous relatives of real famous people. Frank Stallone, Don Swayze and Roger Clinton were a few names that we tossed around. We’d get about a dozen of them and make them live in a house together for a few weeks and film the entire thing. Kind of like the old VH1 show The Surreal Life. For some reason, this was the funniest thing in the world for about a half hour. Maybe longer.
Son of a bitch. They stole my shit!

Relatively Famous: Ranch Rules https://g.co/kgs/b44VYQ
DRINK!

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Re: Booza-Palooza 2013

Post by Patchez »

Dear Booze wrote:
Mon Jan 03, 2022 9:05 pm
Dear Booze wrote:
Fri Jun 28, 2013 5:09 pm
...I do recall that we came up with the greatest idea for a television show in the history of broadcasting. Relatively Famous would feature semi-famous relatives of real famous people. Frank Stallone, Don Swayze and Roger Clinton were a few names that we tossed around. We’d get about a dozen of them and make them live in a house together for a few weeks and film the entire thing. Kind of like the old VH1 show The Surreal Life. For some reason, this was the funniest thing in the world for about a half hour. Maybe longer.
Son of a bitch. They stole my shit!

Relatively Famous: Ranch Rules https://g.co/kgs/b44VYQ
Gotta get them Trademarks and Copyrights for your intellectual property before you go broad casting it on the intertrons.
Now you're ready for some anti-dry-otics!-BeerMakesMeSmarter

If worms had daggers, birds wouldn't fuck with them-Todd Snider

Blackout and be extraordinary-Absinthe of Malice

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Re: Booza-Palooza 2013

Post by mIgaMiGA »

it's funny enough

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