Dear Booze Vegas Files, Part VI
Plaza
By the time we left The Griffin, there was quite a crowd gathering outside. Apparently, downtown Las Vegas celebrates "First Friday" every month with live entertainment under the canopy on the Freemont Street Experience. Basically, it was turning into one of the world’s biggest block parties. While we were inside, special access gates were set up along across the road to restrict access. Those wishing to enter needed to present a valid I.D. to enter, and the line was long. So walking back the way we came was out of the question.
Patchez and Mrs Patchez headed back to the hotel and the rest of us decided to walk around the corner and up a shitty alley to get to The Plaza, one of my favorite casinos in Las Vegas.
It was about a mile long walk through one of the dirtiest areas on earth. In addition to the toothless prostitutes, low-level pimps, dealers, bums, piles of human feces, discarded hypodermic needles, and random clothing, the main intersections were under construction. So we were forced to walk further out of our way to get to our destination. Personally, I was a little upset. I had spent the day crafting the perfect balance of drunkenness only to fuck it up with needless exercise.
Once inside, we all got to enjoy true old school Vegas. We were all struck by the smell of cigarette smoke and sounds of laughter, celebration and money. There was madness in the air and I wanted to be part of it. "Fuck paying for a drink," I announced as most of the group posted up at the casino bar. Snyder and I headed to the nearest Craps table. After all, when you are gambling you get free drinks. The object is to not lose too much money, otherwise each drink ends up costing about forty bucks on average.
Luckily, we got lucky and won some money.
The rest of the group joined us at the Sport Book Bar for several more drinks before heading back to the Flamingo.
I ended up going up to drink with Khan, Snyder, Gooch, and Allen in Khan's room. But I couldn't see straight and kept nodding off. So I left, made my way back to my room, and passed out. It was probably about 1:00 AM.
Here is where everything gets a little weird, and I'm hoping there are some of the other attendees who can fill in the blanks.
To be continued...
2018 Vegas Trip
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Re: 2018 Vegas Trip
DRINK!
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Re: 2018 Vegas Trip
Hey! Are you talking about my hotel room?!Dear Booze wrote: ↑Mon Aug 27, 2018 1:10 pmDear Booze Vegas Files, Part VI
Plaza
It was about a mile long walk through one of the dirtiest areas on earth. In addition to the toothless prostitutes, low-level pimps, dealers, bums, piles of human feces, discarded hypodermic needles, and random clothing, \
Okole maluna!
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Re: 2018 Vegas Trip
Ha! That's friggin funnyArtful Drunktective wrote: ↑Mon Aug 27, 2018 7:36 pmHey! Are you talking about my hotel room?!Dear Booze wrote: ↑Mon Aug 27, 2018 1:10 pmDear Booze Vegas Files, Part VI
Plaza
It was about a mile long walk through one of the dirtiest areas on earth. In addition to the toothless prostitutes, low-level pimps, dealers, bums, piles of human feces, discarded hypodermic needles, and random clothing, \
Got nose beer
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Re: 2018 Vegas Trip
Ha! I never thought you drunks would get your shit together, way to go. I read as much as my feeble mind could contain and am assured a good time was had by one and all.
You are all insane.
You are all insane.
Like a desperate thirst in a raging drought
Re: 2018 Vegas Trip
Wait till 2020 when it's a MDM Camping trip! Drunks in the Wilderness! If a bottle is thrown in the woods does someone hear it?ThirstyDrunk wrote: ↑Sat Sep 01, 2018 12:54 amHa! I never thought you drunks would get your shit together, way to go. I read as much as my feeble mind could contain and am assured a good time was had by one and all.
You are all insane.
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
If worms had daggers, birds wouldn't fuck with them-Todd Snider
Blackout and be extraordinary-Absinthe of Malice
Re: 2018 Vegas Trip
Double Down
Me and Arty D
with Nausea got pizza looking out the window. All off a sudden Dearbooze and his friends were waliking across us. Dumbasses
The double down is a thing of beauty
Good lord that bartender needs to drink with u8s
Me and Arty D
with Nausea got pizza looking out the window. All off a sudden Dearbooze and his friends were waliking across us. Dumbasses
The double down is a thing of beauty
Good lord that bartender needs to drink with u8s
Drink!
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Re: 2018 Vegas Trip
Dear Booze wrote: ↑Mon Aug 27, 2018 1:10 pmDear Booze Vegas Files, Part VI
Plaza
By the time we left The Griffin, there was quite a crowd gathering outside. Apparently, downtown Las Vegas celebrates "First Friday" every month with live entertainment under the canopy on the Freemont Street Experience. Basically, it was turning into one of the world’s biggest block parties. While we were inside, special access gates were set up along across the road to restrict access. Those wishing to enter needed to present a valid I.D. to enter, and the line was long. So walking back the way we came was out of the question.
Patchez and Mrs Patchez headed back to the hotel and the rest of us decided to walk around the corner and up a shitty alley to get to The Plaza, one of my favorite casinos in Las Vegas.
It was about a mile long walk through one of the dirtiest areas on earth. In addition to the toothless prostitutes, low-level pimps, dealers, bums, piles of human feces, discarded hypodermic needles, and random clothing, the main intersections were under construction. So we were forced to walk further out of our way to get to our destination. Personally, I was a little upset. I had spent the day crafting the perfect balance of drunkenness only to fuck it up with needless exercise.
Once inside, we all got to enjoy true old school Vegas. We were all struck by the smell of cigarette smoke and sounds of laughter, celebration and money. There was madness in the air and I wanted to be part of it. "Fuck paying for a drink," I announced as most of the group posted up at the casino bar. Snyder and I headed to the nearest Craps table. After all, when you are gambling you get free drinks. The object is to not lose too much money, otherwise each drink ends up costing about forty bucks on average.
Luckily, we got lucky and won some money.
The rest of the group joined us at the Sport Book Bar for several more drinks before heading back to the Flamingo.
I ended up going up to drink with Khan, Snyder, Gooch, and Allen in Khan's room. But I couldn't see straight and kept nodding off. So I left, made my way back to my room, and passed out. It was probably about 1:00 AM.
Here is where everything gets a little weird, and I'm hoping there are some of the other attendees who can fill in the blanks.
To be continued...
Dear Booze wrote: ↑Mon Aug 27, 2018 1:10 pmDear Booze Vegas Files, Part VI
Plaza
By the time we left Chicas Bonitas Strip Club Bar & Grill & Putting Green, there was quite a crowd gathering outside. Apparently, downtown Las Vegas celebrates "First Friday" every month with live entertainment with free blow jobs under the canopy on the Freemont Street Experience. Basically, it was turning into one of the world’s biggest cock parties. While we were inside waiting for our turn, special access gates were set up along across the road to restrict access. Those wishing to enter needed to present a valid I.D. to enter and they didn't let Oettinger in because they thought his Deutschland I.D. was fake, and the line was also long. So walking back to Chicas Bonitas for another round of donkey shows from gonorrhea infested pregnant Latinas was out of the question.
Patchez and Mrs Patchez headed back to the brothel and the rest of us decided to walk around the corner and up a shitty alley to get to The Piranha, one of my favorite naked male revues in Las Vegas.
It was about a mile long walk through one of the dirtiest areas on earth- aside from Oettinger and Artful D's hotel room. In addition to the toothless prostitutes, low-level pimps, dealers, bums, and my own piles of human feces, discarded hypodermic needles, and random clothing, the main intersections were under construction. So we were forced to walk further out of our way to get to our destination. Personally, I was a little upset that I missed the "Magic Mike" rendition at the revue. I had spent the day crafting the perfect balance of drunkenness and anticipation for this event only to fuck it up with needless exercise.
I ended up going up to drink with Khan, Snyder, Gooch, and Allen in Khan's room. But I couldn't see straight due to being roofied at the Piranha and kept nodding off. So I left, made my way back to my room, and passed out. It was probably about 4:00 AM.
Here is where everything gets a little weird, and I'm hoping there are some of the people who roofied me that can fill in the blanks.
To be continued...
Fixed that for ya! Love ya DB.
Okole maluna!
Re: 2018 Vegas Trip
My german passport got an original Führer (c) stamp, it clearly says citizen of austria since ca. 1933
The cleaning staff called our little refuse "tiny auschwitz"
For what ever resason most areas were only blocked for us
Next time I`ll bring a minigun. I`ll hide it in my cello coffin
The cleaning staff called our little refuse "tiny auschwitz"
For what ever resason most areas were only blocked for us
Next time I`ll bring a minigun. I`ll hide it in my cello coffin
Drink!
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Re: 2018 Vegas Trip
Dear Booze Vegas Files, Part VII
Golden Slumbers
I was sound asleep when I heard the hotel room door open. I instinctively looked at the clock. 3:12. AM or PM? What the fuck? It was Gooch and he was talking to someone on the phone.
Fuck.
Shut the fuck up.
"What the fuck are you doing?" I asked.
"I lost Khan. I'm looking for him."
"Well, he's not in here."
I heard Gooch rifling through his bags. And just like that, he was gone.
I returned to my slumber.
What seemed like a split second later, I heard the door open again. I opened my eyes and looked at the clock. 6:30. Light filled the room through the worthless blackout curtains. Gooch was back.
This time, I could tell that he was really fucked up.
"Did you ever find Khan?" I asked.
"Nope."
Gooch sat on the edge of his bed, swaying slightly to the left, then forward, and back to an upright position.
"You good?" I asked.
"Nope."
"Get some sleep. We got a big day of drinking ahead of us."
But I could tell that, as fucked up as he was, something was bugging him.
"What's up?" I asked. "Did you get robbed?" I'm not sure why I asked that question. But I know Gooch. And I knew how drunk he was. And I know Las Vegas. And I know how easy it is for a drunk to get robbed in Las Vegas. Shit. I've experienced it first hand. It sucks.
Turns out, I was right. Gooch told me he was pick-pocketed. He didn't lose too much. Maybe $200. But he was upset about losing the money clip which the $200 was attached to. It held sentimental value.
"It's okay," I told him. "In the big picture, it's only a money clip. You're safe and $200 won't change your life."
I eventually got him to shut the fuck up and I got a couple more hours of sleep.
***
By 10:00 AM, I was enjoying a perfect Irish coffee at the Cabaret Bar in the casino. A number of texts were sent around and It was determined that we would all meet up at the Double Down Saloon at 2:00.
Golden Slumbers
I was sound asleep when I heard the hotel room door open. I instinctively looked at the clock. 3:12. AM or PM? What the fuck? It was Gooch and he was talking to someone on the phone.
Fuck.
Shut the fuck up.
"What the fuck are you doing?" I asked.
"I lost Khan. I'm looking for him."
"Well, he's not in here."
I heard Gooch rifling through his bags. And just like that, he was gone.
I returned to my slumber.
What seemed like a split second later, I heard the door open again. I opened my eyes and looked at the clock. 6:30. Light filled the room through the worthless blackout curtains. Gooch was back.
This time, I could tell that he was really fucked up.
"Did you ever find Khan?" I asked.
"Nope."
Gooch sat on the edge of his bed, swaying slightly to the left, then forward, and back to an upright position.
"You good?" I asked.
"Nope."
"Get some sleep. We got a big day of drinking ahead of us."
But I could tell that, as fucked up as he was, something was bugging him.
"What's up?" I asked. "Did you get robbed?" I'm not sure why I asked that question. But I know Gooch. And I knew how drunk he was. And I know Las Vegas. And I know how easy it is for a drunk to get robbed in Las Vegas. Shit. I've experienced it first hand. It sucks.
Turns out, I was right. Gooch told me he was pick-pocketed. He didn't lose too much. Maybe $200. But he was upset about losing the money clip which the $200 was attached to. It held sentimental value.
"It's okay," I told him. "In the big picture, it's only a money clip. You're safe and $200 won't change your life."
I eventually got him to shut the fuck up and I got a couple more hours of sleep.
***
By 10:00 AM, I was enjoying a perfect Irish coffee at the Cabaret Bar in the casino. A number of texts were sent around and It was determined that we would all meet up at the Double Down Saloon at 2:00.
Last edited by Dear Booze on Sun Sep 30, 2018 10:20 am, edited 1 time in total.
DRINK!
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Re: 2018 Vegas Trip
What better way to commemorate the 2018 Vegas Trip than to take a trip to Vegas on the one year anniversary?
Yup. That's what I think I will do today.
Happy anniversary to Patchie, Mrs Patchie, Nausea, and a double anniversary to Oett and AD.
Returning to the scene of the crime is rarely a good idea.
Yup. That's what I think I will do today.
Happy anniversary to Patchie, Mrs Patchie, Nausea, and a double anniversary to Oett and AD.
Returning to the scene of the crime is rarely a good idea.
DRINK!
- Artful Drunktective
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Re: 2018 Vegas Trip
Thanks and enjoy for us! Super jealous! Eat, drink, and be merry and also be safe and unlike last time...Dear Booze wrote: ↑Thu Aug 01, 2019 9:39 amWhat better way to commemorate the 2018 Vegas Trip than to take a trip to Vegas on the one year anniversary?
Yup. That's what I think I will do today.
Happy anniversary to Patchie, Mrs Patchie, Nausea, and a double anniversary to Oett and AD.
Returning to the scene of the crime is rarely a good idea.
Don't special order hash browns crispy at the Peppermill.
Don't dance on stage at the Piranha male revue.
Don't beg to get roofied by David Coppafeel.
Don't go to the desert with any hookers.
Okole maluna!
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Re: 2018 Vegas Trip
"Don't special order hash browns crispy at the Peppermill."Artful Drunktective wrote: ↑Thu Aug 01, 2019 10:47 amThanks and enjoy for us! Super jealous! Eat, drink, and be merry and also be safe and unlike last time...Dear Booze wrote: ↑Thu Aug 01, 2019 9:39 amWhat better way to commemorate the 2018 Vegas Trip than to take a trip to Vegas on the one year anniversary?
Yup. That's what I think I will do today.
Happy anniversary to Patchie, Mrs Patchie, Nausea, and a double anniversary to Oett and AD.
Returning to the scene of the crime is rarely a good idea.
Don't special order hash browns crispy at the Peppermill.
Don't dance on stage at the Piranha male revue.
Don't beg to get roofied by David Coppafeel.
Don't go to the desert with any hookers.
Don't worry. I'll NEVER go back to that shit hole. They simply can't get an order right. Plus, I was banned from ever coming back.
"Don't dance on stage at the Piranha male revue."
I can't promise anything. I may need money.
"Don't beg to get roofied by David Coppafeel."
I've still never been roofied. Please don't take away my dream!
"Don't go to the desert with any hookers."
It doesn't count if the hooker is dead.
DRINK!
Re: 2018 Vegas Trip
I wouldn't mind drinking at The Griffin again. One of my favorite bars of all time.
Highly competent bartender, great selection, nice ambiance.
Highly competent bartender, great selection, nice ambiance.
Don't worry. We're in no hurry.
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